Three - Revelation
Incense…It must have been the incense. I didn’t eat or drink anything so they couldn’t have fed me a drug, but the overpowering smell must be some sort of hallucinogen. The strong scent in the clothes and skin must have been enough to give me some kind of a contact high.
As I lay there in bed with my eyes closed, I went through the events of last evening…the hypnotic song in a song, following Marie through the club, the threesome and then the drug induced vision of the bleeding man and the woman with the red eyes.
Sex, drugs and rock and roll, was that it? Is this just the game of some group of drug taking, nymphomaniac Goth groupies that I have somehow been pulled into?
I don’t know how I got back into my room last night, but I’m pretty sure I spent the evening alone this time.
I needed to get out of bed and figure out what I was going to do. I walked over to the window and opened the curtain. The sun shone in and it felt like knives going through my head.
I quickly pulled the curtain shut, but the after effects of the sunlight burned in my eyes and on my skin. I must have suffered a concussion when I ran into the door frame in that room last night.
I walked into the bathroom to take an inventory of myself. Where I expected to see a lump and maybe a laceration on my head from the prior evening's impact, I saw not even a mark. I rubbed the area and I didn’t even feel any tenderness.
So, maybe I didn’t hit my head as hard as I thought. Maybe the small impact was enough to knock me out when combined with the effects of whatever drug these people were putting into my system.
As I continued to look myself over in the mirror, I noticed the pallor of my skin was noticeably paler than I was used to. I was obviously getting sick from the exposure of foreign substances in my system.
My stomach again ached with the feeling of hunger, but the thought of eating breakfast made the ache in my belly turn and flip like I was on a sailboat in the middle of a storm.
I was going to have to go to the doctor. I needed to know what was in me and what effect it was having on my body.
I made a call to Harry to make sure he and David could handle the show today without me. My next call was to the concierge desk to get the recommendation for a doctor. I called the number given to me and scheduled an appointment for an hour later.
The doctor’s office was within walking distance so, after a quick shower I dressed and headed out the door.
The daylight hit me like a freight train. Even with the extra dark, polarized sunglasses that set me back almost $200 in the gift shop, the sun burned my eyes and made my head sear.
I instantly began to sweat and had the smothering feeling of being in a sauna with all of my clothes on. Luckily, the office was not too far away.
As I walked, I had that feeling of being watched. I tried to sort through the multiple odors that were assaulting me from the many people walking around.
Then I caught it; a very faint smell of incense. I was instantly alert and began looking around me. That’s when I saw him.
Across the street, leaning against a mailbox was a beautiful man. He had on black jeans and a white shirt that was un-tucked and unbuttoned to reveal a bare chest that was adorned with nothing but a crucifix.
I recognized him, but couldn’t remember how. He took off his sunglasses and looked straight at me. I knew in an instant who it was. I was staring at Lazarus, the lead singer from Anarch.
He continued staring and smiling and there was no mistaking that he was looking at anyone but me.
I turned to cross the street. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I felt I needed to talk to him.
I checked left and right for oncoming traffic and when I turned back to cross, he was gone. I ran across the street and spun around looking for him. I was in the middle of the block and a scan up and down the sparsely populated sidewalk showed no sign of him. It was as if he just disappeared.
Could this be more after effects from the narcotic or is this just another step in this game they were playing with me? I wasn’t sure, but I was sure that the longer I stood here in the sun, the worst I felt. I finished the walk to my appointment.
After giving a list of my ailments and symptoms to the doctor, I also voiced my concern about some kind of narcotic as well as a possible concussion.
He started with a urine sample and a battery of blood tests to check my blood count and blood sugar as well as a screening for most illegal drugs. He also added that he would do a check for all of the standard sexually transmitted diseases. Great, I hadn’t even thought of that one.
Once he got his samples he began his physical exam. After taking my blood pressure, he stared at his read out with a confused look. He took it again and apparently got the same results by the look on his face.
He next took his stethoscope and listened to my chest and back.
“Do you normally have low blood pressure”, he asked.
“I guess, but I didn’t think it was a big deal. Is there a problem”, I queried.
“It’s just that I had a real hard time getting a reading. Your pressure is fine, but you heart beat is so slow I was almost missing it. If it were any slower I would have thought you were dead”.
After finishing with that he checked for signs of a concussion which he couldn’t find. The rest of the exam was just as unremarkable.
“I know you’re from out of town, so I’ll see if I can’t get a rush on your blood work. We have a lab right here in the building and I can probably get the results back by before we close today. Can I call you on your cell phone with the results?”
“That would be great, doc, thanks”, I said as I stood and began to get dressed. Now, what to do next? I needed to find Marie, but where was I supposed to look next?
I could enter the name Marie into Google search along with the band’s name to see what cross references I could get. Of course, there were thousands of possibilities that could come up with that. And, of course, I didn’t even know if Marie was her real name. I needed a better plan.
As I started to pull on my shirt, my doctor made a comment about my tattoos. “You know, we have some really great tattoo shops here in New Orleans. You really should try to check some of them out”.
Of course, Marie’s tattoos! The artwork had already led her to me once, why not again. I can check out the shops in town and ask around. How many women in New Orleans can match Marie’s description and have those two tattoos?
“Thanks doc. That’s a great idea”, I answered.
I left the office and turned back towards my hotel. I was still not feeling well and I needed to get out of this sun before I started feeling worse.
I decided to head back to the hotel and have a light lunch. No sense eating heavy since my stomach feels no different no matter the size of my meal. After that, I’d lie down for a nap. I’d go out looking for Marie tonight. It seems I felt much better last night after the sun went down.
As I walked, I again had the feeling of being watched, followed. I concentrated on the noises and was able to isolate a set of footsteps behind me that had matched my step and gate stride for stride.
Without stopping, I looked over my shoulder to see that I was being followed by Lazarus. He smiled and waved at me. He was very friendly for a hallucination.
After finishing off a salad adorned with some local shrimp, I went to my room for some sleep. I closed the blinds completely and turned off all of the lights to plunge my room into complete darkness. This seemed to drop the temperature in the room the few degrees that the air conditioning unit was unable to achieve.
I was asleep in no time. I’m not sure how long I was sleeping when I was awakened by a whisper. I’m not sure where it was coming from or what it was saying, but I heard it.
I opened my eyes and stared at the pitch black, concentrating on the sound. My nose was greeted by a smell that could only be described as wet fur. I turned to one side and saw, across the room, what appeared to be a set of red eyes staring back at me.
Afraid to move, I just lay there. The eyes blinked once, then disappeared. As the source of the whispering appeared to be coming from the other side of the room, I turned over in my bed and gazed in that direction. Another set of eyes peered back through the dark at me. After a few moments, these too blinked away.
I concentrated on the sound to see if I could see where it was coming from and what it was saying.
“Michael, come Michael”. I was being beckoned.
I stood in the dark room and looked around. The only thing I could make out clearly were the edges of the furniture and more eyes. The red eyes were appearing and blinking away all over the room.
I started towards the bathroom and what appeared to be the source of the whisper. As I approached the door, all of the eyes peering at me though the blackness all faded away.
There was definitely something on the other side of the door. I could hear it moving, breathing. I slowly swung the door into the room and was standing face to face with a figure.
In the darkness, I couldn’t make out much other than the outline of a figure, and the eyes. This set stared at me and did not blink, did not go away.
I stood there waiting for something, but I’m not sure what. I finally got the nerve to reach for the light switch. I wasn’t sure what I was going to see, but I wasn’t prepared to stand there and wait. I would see my fate face to face.
I switched on the light to find myself alone in the bathroom. Straight ahead of me was the mirror showing my own reflection looking back at me with red eyes.
The sound of my cell phone ringing woke me from my dream. The hallucinogen in my system was now causing nightmares. I could only hope the good doctor could figure out what was poisoning me and give me something to counteract it.
A look at the bedside clock showed that it was 4:45. The slivers of sunlight escaping from behind the curtain told me that it must me PM.
It was the doctor. “Michael, I’ve gotten back some of your blood work. Your red blood cells seem a bit high, but nothing to be too concerned about. The drug screens have all come back negative”.
“What does that mean, negative?” I asked.
“It means just what it sounds like, negative. There are no traces of any kind of illegal substance showing up in your system. If you were asked to take a surprise drug test you’d pass with flying colors”.
“How can that be? What about my upset stomach? What about the headaches and sweating? What about the hallucinating and the nightmares”?
“Nightmares”, he repeated, “that’s new. Michael these symptoms are not just caused by drugs. These are also caused by stress. Look, you told me yourself that you’ve been traveling way too much lately and you’re missing your family. Then, after your little rendezvous with your mysterious young woman, you’re completely off kilter. Your system is on overload and it’s telling you to slow down and take it easy”.
“I don’t have all of your tests back yet, but I should have the STD test tomorrow before you leave for home. That way you’ll have one less thing to worry about, or at least have time to figure out what to do”.
“Thanks”, I mumbled distractedly.
“By the way”, the doctor added, “have you ever registered with the rare blood directory? Blood like yours is hard to come by and you could probably save someone’s live one day”.
“Rare blood directory”, I asked, “since when is A+ a rare blood”?
“A+ isn’t, but you aren’t A+. You have RH17 blood. That blood type belongs to something like 1 out of every 150,000 people. You’re quite unusual Mike”.
“Thanks again, doc”, I said as I hung up the phone.
I had to find Marie.
A quick search on Google and I had a list of tattoo parlors in New Orleans. The good doctor was right, there were quite a few.
Tattoo shops in general tend to attract a very dark crowd. In a town in New Orleans where Goth was commonplace, then I wondered what exactly I would run into tonight.
I did my best to pick something from my limited wardrobe to help blend in. A pair of black jeans with a white silk shirt that I would leave untucked and with the sleeves rolled up. Not exactly ready to start my own band, but I wouldn’t stand out like a store thumb.
As I left the building, the sun was beginning to set and I was feeling like my old self. In fact, I was feeling better than that. I felt strong, alert and full of energy. There was no doubt that there was a drug in my system that was wearing off. Obviously the blood tests couldn’t test for everything and they had just missed it.
With the list in hand, I began my trek from one tattoo parlor to the next. I wasn’t quite sure what I would find, but I was hoping something would jump out at me. Maybe I’d see Marie or one of the ladies from last night. Maybe I’d recognize a tattoo on display. I didn’t have much to go on, but it was all I had.
As I went from shop to shop, I was happy to see that I was right about my change of clothes. While I wasn’t immersed with local crowds in and around the shop, at least I wasn’t attracting any unwanted attention.
My search for the first hour and a half was fruitless. The shops were giving nothing up. From the look of the building, to the clientele and artists, to the samples on the wall, the shops were all but identical except in name. That was until I reached Bloodlines.
On the outside, it looked like the last half dozen parlors I visited. As I approached the door, the hair on the back of my neck began to rise and my pulse quickened to an alarming rate.
I pushed open the door and was immediately overpowered by the scent of incense. I had to be on to something here. There would be no need for me to take out my sketches and describe Marie. She had been here before. I don’t know how I knew it, but I did.
The man behind the counter looked up and acknowledged me with a familiar gesture that made me think of my “comfy” group last night.
“So”, he started, “are you here for your mark”?
Since he began a conversation with me, there was no need for me to bring it to a halt by telling him he had the wrong guy. “Yep, that’s me”
“Head on back”, he said as he nodded his head in the direction of the open doorway next to the desk as he went back to the magazine spread out in front of him.
I walked into a room that was filled with tables and chairs that looked like every other tattoo parlor I had been in.
I stood alone in the room wondering what I was supposed to do when my friend from the front desk stuck his head into the room. “Not this room, in there”. He pointed to a closed door against the back wall.
A man stood in this room at the stainless steel counter. He was mixing colors and spoke to me without looking away from his work.
“Let me guess. On you back, right? Take off your shirt”.
The smell of incense was strong here and I was beginning to feel lightheaded. I felt like I was on to something and didn’t want to stop until I had some answers. If it meant getting another tattoo to get those answers then so be it.
I took off my shirt and sat into one of the massage chairs. The artist walked over to me and placed the ink and needle gun on the tray next to the seat.
“No rubber gloves”, I asked as he prepared the tools.
He laughed. “I’m not too worried about catching anything from you.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what kind of tattoo I want”? I asked.
“I already know”, was his only response.
It seemed like the longer I sat in this close proximity, the more I had the feeling of lightheadedness. My mind struggled as it was making the connection of the incense and the hypnotic feeling. I remembered that it was like this with Marie and again in The Cathedral.
I tried to concentrate to see if I could make some connection to any narcotic that I knew, but my mind finally gave in and I sat there in a happy stupor.
He picked up the gun and walked behind me. The man gave what can best be described as a long hiss and backed away from me. He slowly walked back to me and began to run his finger around the tattoos that already decorated my back.
“So”, he said in a low, menacing voice, “the hunter has become the hunted. How sweet this is”.
I struggled with coherency to try to put some kind of meaning to what he was saying, but to no avail.
He began his work in the center of my back between my shoulder blades. My mind knew that this should hurt, but instead it felt wonderful. I was beginning to feel aroused by the pleasure/pain combination.
As he worked I noticed something else felt different as well. Most artists will draw for a few moments and then wipe the area clean from blood so that they can see what they are doing, then return to drawing.
Instead of blotting my skin with a towel or gauze, it felt like he was pressing his lips to my back and licking the area clean so that he could continue his work.
Part of my mind knew that I should be bothered by this, knew that I should jump up in protest, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I was under a spell and willing or not, I sat there in a blissful state.
“All done”, he said after a time. I don’t know how long since I had lost track of time. I felt as if I was coming down from whatever high I was on and began struggling with the entire situation.
He walked to the counter and brought back a large, handheld mirror and stood behind me. He pointed to a wall mounted mirror in front of me where I could see the mirror held in his hand and the new tattoo on my back.
It was the flowered dagger, the one that I first saw on Marie, the symbol of Anarch. I was about to protest what he did to me when the door to the room opened.
In walked Lazarus followed closely by Marie.
The tattoo artist dropped his eyes to the floor and bowed his head as they walked into the room.
“Leave us”, Lazarus said to the artist.
“Yes, Prefect”, was the only response as he put down the mirror and rushed out of the room.
Marie stayed in front of me as Lazarus walked behind me to admire my new tattoo.
“It’s quite beautiful, Michael”, he began, “but quite a contrast with the runes that now surround it. I don’t think your Grandmother is going to be very happy”.
“Who are you and what do you want with me? And what do you know of my Grandmother”?
“There’s plenty of time to answer all of you questions, Michael. You have nothing but time”.
“I want answers now”, I yelled at both of them as he came back in front of me to stand next to Marie. “What have you been slipping me? What did you drug me with”?
“Michael”, Marie cooed quietly as she walked up to me and traced her finger around my face and down my neck, “I didn’t give you any illegal narcotics. You know that, your doctor even told you so. But you are right about there being something in your system”.
“What are you talking about? What do you mean? What have you done to me?” I was beginning to panic and felt near hysteria.
“Michael, you have much to learn now”, Lazarus began, “and as all new childers, you are very upset and confused. Do not worry my little neonate; I will take good care of you”.
“I don’t want you to do anything to me,” I yelled as tears began to run down my face. “I want to know what you’ve done to me”.
“Michael”, Marie said to me as if I were a toddler, “you have been embraced. You are now a Kindred”.
“A what”, I asked, almost implored, “What are you talking about”?
Lazarus walked up to me and put his hands on either side of my face. He turned my face up to look at his. His eyes had just a hint of the red glare I had seen on those people over the last two days.
He said, “You are a vampire, Michael. Welcome to the family”.