Eternal Abyss
by
Kate Vaughn
by
Kate Vaughn
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Eternal Abyss
by; Kate Vaughn
Writing the beginning of a story has always been far too complicated
for me, and simply annoying. I could start from the beginning, or even perhaps the
end. But no one really knows where anything truly begins. My name is Cain. I was named Cain
after the brother in the bible who stained the Earth with his brother's blood. My mother gave me
this name, she always has held that image inside me of a sweet, naive churchgoer who only
wanted good for her children. How I do miss her. It fills me with tremendous
grief to think of how she felt when her first born was nowhere to be found.
After I decided to run away from that village, after I was turned into this
thing that I am, a vampire. Do not get me wrong, it is a wonderful gift, yes,
but many sacrifices entail one who has chosen immortality. When I was
mortal, I had never known such bliss in the ectasy of letting the blood pour into
my gut, of some sick, sadistic satisfaction. And in those moments it is
when I think, ' Why on earth do I ever yearn for mortality?' in those moments
of sweet murder, such intense pleasure.
But back to what I was saying before. I had run away from that rural
village in the countryside of Mercia, only to find more pain awaiting. But, I
could not bear the fact of my mother ever finding out, she would not
understand, she could not even fathom the thought of her son being what he now was.
And so I ran, from each village to the next, hoping to find…something. But
everywhere I went, it was the same. People looking at me, awestruck at
my beauty. Then one night at an Inn above a tavern, a man sat down next to
me.
Tall, as I was, thick brown hair, beautiful pale blue eyes, and skinjust as
mine. I had no doubt in my mind that he was immortal as well. I thought
how odd it was, in such places as these and my home, to come across one of
the few other immortals the world contains. He came towards me slowly,
smiling, and gracefully pulled the chair from under the wooden table. He looked
for a moment, staring at me and smiling, then his lips at last parted, “ It
smells of the pigs in here, let’s go outside where the air is at least fresh.”
He said in his low, silky voice. Without question, I followed. We walked
along the dirt pathway, further from town, into the field, the moon
glittering
upon us.
]
“ So, you are in this too? By choice…or by trickery? Or perhaps,
force.” , he smiled slightly, looking at me with such sincerity in his beautiful
eyes. “ By choice. I was given the choice by a sort of vagabond of vampires.
He made me, then left me. Telling me only not to go into the sun,” I
laughed slightly “ foolish choice. But there’s something beautiful and
seductive about the whole bit, isn’t there? The night that I decided to accept
this gift, I was out with a few friends, sitting in the grass and attempting
to charm any young lady that might pass. Men were passing as well
of course, and I paid no attention. Until he, my maker, walked by. It seemed for a
moment I had fallen in love with this being. Immediately, I went away from my
friends to follow him, hoping to go unnoticed. For a few long moments I did
this, thinking that he was completely oblivious of my presence, then when we
got into the outskirts of town, he whipped around so swiftly my eye saw
only a glimpse of a black mass. Before I knew it he was latched onto me,
draining me. The pain was nearly unbearable, I was squeezing my breast with my
fist, my whole body writhed. And then, he let go, and I lay there staring at
this being, staring at me. I was dizzy, and near to the point of death, I
could feel it. He came towards me, slit a few veins in his wrist and put it
up to my mouth. I don’t quite remember anything after that, except waking to
see my friends gathered round. And that is how I was made, how I came to
me. A typical story if you ask me.” I grinned and looked over at him, smiling
too.
“ My name is Othin, I’m not from here, as you can probably tell. I’m
from Jutland or Denmark, I came over here to see a friend who lives in
Danish Mercia, I did, and then decided to come here, to the Saxon Mercia,
well, for no purpose really. I learned English upon my travels, so worry not
about that. It was decided on a whim, to come here. You would love Jutland, a
perfect and beautiful country. Tall men and women, a strong and
gorgeous race.” He walked infront of me, “ Why don’t you go back and see your
mother?
She most likely misses you so.”
“No…I fear she will not understand.” Silence. “ But I suppose you’re
right. It’s been several winters since I’ve seen her last, nearly twelve. I do
hope she is well.”
No more words spoken, only a nod and then we started towards my home
village. Weeks later, we reached it. I saw everything I had known in my youth,
still the same. Though the young girls I would charm and seduce were all
married now and borne children. And my sister had left to explore the woods in
Wales. When I reached my old home, it looked as it was abandoned and
unkempt. It was. I asked the old cobbler, who was a close friend of my
mother’s, and he shook his head and put his hat to his bosom. ‘ I’m
sorry sir, she is dead.’
My heart stopped. I ran to the graveyard and found a large rock on top
of a grave, old English engraved on it. I shook my head and whispered, “ So this is what I have
to look forward to…this damned, Eternal Abyss of death.”
by; Kate Vaughn
Writing the beginning of a story has always been far too complicated
for me, and simply annoying. I could start from the beginning, or even perhaps the
end. But no one really knows where anything truly begins. My name is Cain. I was named Cain
after the brother in the bible who stained the Earth with his brother's blood. My mother gave me
this name, she always has held that image inside me of a sweet, naive churchgoer who only
wanted good for her children. How I do miss her. It fills me with tremendous
grief to think of how she felt when her first born was nowhere to be found.
After I decided to run away from that village, after I was turned into this
thing that I am, a vampire. Do not get me wrong, it is a wonderful gift, yes,
but many sacrifices entail one who has chosen immortality. When I was
mortal, I had never known such bliss in the ectasy of letting the blood pour into
my gut, of some sick, sadistic satisfaction. And in those moments it is
when I think, ' Why on earth do I ever yearn for mortality?' in those moments
of sweet murder, such intense pleasure.
But back to what I was saying before. I had run away from that rural
village in the countryside of Mercia, only to find more pain awaiting. But, I
could not bear the fact of my mother ever finding out, she would not
understand, she could not even fathom the thought of her son being what he now was.
And so I ran, from each village to the next, hoping to find…something. But
everywhere I went, it was the same. People looking at me, awestruck at
my beauty. Then one night at an Inn above a tavern, a man sat down next to
me.
Tall, as I was, thick brown hair, beautiful pale blue eyes, and skinjust as
mine. I had no doubt in my mind that he was immortal as well. I thought
how odd it was, in such places as these and my home, to come across one of
the few other immortals the world contains. He came towards me slowly,
smiling, and gracefully pulled the chair from under the wooden table. He looked
for a moment, staring at me and smiling, then his lips at last parted, “ It
smells of the pigs in here, let’s go outside where the air is at least fresh.”
He said in his low, silky voice. Without question, I followed. We walked
along the dirt pathway, further from town, into the field, the moon
glittering
upon us.
]
“ So, you are in this too? By choice…or by trickery? Or perhaps,
force.” , he smiled slightly, looking at me with such sincerity in his beautiful
eyes. “ By choice. I was given the choice by a sort of vagabond of vampires.
He made me, then left me. Telling me only not to go into the sun,” I
laughed slightly “ foolish choice. But there’s something beautiful and
seductive about the whole bit, isn’t there? The night that I decided to accept
this gift, I was out with a few friends, sitting in the grass and attempting
to charm any young lady that might pass. Men were passing as well
of course, and I paid no attention. Until he, my maker, walked by. It seemed for a
moment I had fallen in love with this being. Immediately, I went away from my
friends to follow him, hoping to go unnoticed. For a few long moments I did
this, thinking that he was completely oblivious of my presence, then when we
got into the outskirts of town, he whipped around so swiftly my eye saw
only a glimpse of a black mass. Before I knew it he was latched onto me,
draining me. The pain was nearly unbearable, I was squeezing my breast with my
fist, my whole body writhed. And then, he let go, and I lay there staring at
this being, staring at me. I was dizzy, and near to the point of death, I
could feel it. He came towards me, slit a few veins in his wrist and put it
up to my mouth. I don’t quite remember anything after that, except waking to
see my friends gathered round. And that is how I was made, how I came to
me. A typical story if you ask me.” I grinned and looked over at him, smiling
too.
“ My name is Othin, I’m not from here, as you can probably tell. I’m
from Jutland or Denmark, I came over here to see a friend who lives in
Danish Mercia, I did, and then decided to come here, to the Saxon Mercia,
well, for no purpose really. I learned English upon my travels, so worry not
about that. It was decided on a whim, to come here. You would love Jutland, a
perfect and beautiful country. Tall men and women, a strong and
gorgeous race.” He walked infront of me, “ Why don’t you go back and see your
mother?
She most likely misses you so.”
“No…I fear she will not understand.” Silence. “ But I suppose you’re
right. It’s been several winters since I’ve seen her last, nearly twelve. I do
hope she is well.”
No more words spoken, only a nod and then we started towards my home
village. Weeks later, we reached it. I saw everything I had known in my youth,
still the same. Though the young girls I would charm and seduce were all
married now and borne children. And my sister had left to explore the woods in
Wales. When I reached my old home, it looked as it was abandoned and
unkempt. It was. I asked the old cobbler, who was a close friend of my
mother’s, and he shook his head and put his hat to his bosom. ‘ I’m
sorry sir, she is dead.’
My heart stopped. I ran to the graveyard and found a large rock on top
of a grave, old English engraved on it. I shook my head and whispered, “ So this is what I have
to look forward to…this damned, Eternal Abyss of death.”