She lost track of the time, and before she knew it, the sun set. It was dark, and she was lost, and she was really scared. Then, she saw this cloud of mist suddenly appear in front of her. In the mist, a face formed, white as a full moon. Then, it was a man standing before her, but she knew it wasn't a man. He smiled, and she saw his fangs, but he extended his hand and told her not to be scared. She took his hand, and it was ice cold. He walked her through the woods, quickly guiding her home. When my grandmother's house was in sight, the man disappeared in a cloud of mist."
The tale brought a smile to my face. "That is certainly a plausible story. We, like you, are equally capable of good and evil."
She shook her head, smiling. "This all seems so unbelievable. At first, I thought you were crazy. I didn't want to think so, but I really didn't have any choice. But there's no doubting what I've seen." Nicole reached into her purse, drew a mirror, turned her back and looked at the reflection over her shoulder. She shook her head again, shuddering ever so slightly.
"I am not really real, not in the sense that you normally think of within your accustomed context."
"But I see you. I can touch you."
"My natural state is more like mist than corporal matter. What you see is, in a sense, an illusion."
"An effective one, I'd say." Nicole replaced the mirror and turned toward me. "So, that story about that woman - Anya - that was on the level?"
"Yes. We had the misfortune of being inPrague when the Germans invaded. Before we could escape, the Nazis broke into our garret. They raped and killed Anya while I lay helpless within a crate."
Shock registered on her face. "Helpless! While they killed the woman you loved?"
I studied the swirling grain of the stained oak paneling. "It was just about the most hideous experience in all the years of my existence. The coming dawn finds me near comatose, too weak to even move. When the Nazis broke in, the sun had just risen. All I could do was listen. I had not even the strength to lift my arms."
A hand rose to her mouth. "Ohmygod. What did you do?"
"Nothing." The word passed my lips like a spike driven into damp earth. "When I was finally strong enough to rise, I buried Anya, then killed every German soldier I could find."
Nicole reached for my hand. "Oh, Al, I'm really sorry. Christ, that's years ago, but for somebody as old as you, it must just seem like yesterday."
Her fingers felt smooth as she squeezed my hand. "Aye, that's the rub. You are correct. I may be a thousand years old, but I still see Anya standing right before my eyes as if it were yesterday."
"A thousand years." Nicole seemed to speak to the air floating above us. "Were you - were you human? Once upon a time?"
"That last moment of mortality remains with me, always remains with me, like some hideous painting, perhaps like a combination of Van Gogh and Munch at their most macabre.
"When I gaze upon that painting, it is as if I am on the outside looking in. I see myself lying on my bed, an expression of abject horror on my face. To my side lies my wife, her skin gray and bloodless, her throat ripped open, her blood all over the sheets. Straddled over me is a vampire, mouth open, poised to strike, blood and saliva dripping from his fangs, his face contorted in manic, animalistic fury.
"He sank his fangs into my neck and drank deeply until I no longer could feel my body. It felt like I was flying. The room before me disappeared. Blinding, white light appeared ahead of me, and all I wanted was to fly toward the light, feeling the peace within its embrace, knowing that my wife waited for me there.
"But then, there was a salty taste in my mouth. The light faded and disappeared, and I was back in the shabby little hovel that had been my home, our home, the vampire sitting on my waist, his wrist pressed to my lips.
"Rage filled my entire being. Almost home, but then he pulled me back to a place that no longer held any meaning for me! I could not have known exactly what his blood would do to me, but somehow