Chapter 4

Feb. 1, 1999–

His eyes slowly opened to the sound of ringing. Damien tried lifting his head, but it felt like gravity was persistent on keeping him subdued. The ringing continued, and as Damien wearily rose from the sheets, he saw the same gleam of light that shot through his bedroom window. His feet touched the cold, mahogany wood, causing him to flinch. He stumbled through his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes to find the telephone on the kitchen counter.

“Hello?” he answered groggily.

“Damien, it’s Rick,” his manager answered with a firm voice.

Damien delayed a sudden yawn to answer back cordially.

“Hey, Rick, what’s up?” he asked.

“Where the hell were you Saturday night?” Rick asked desperately.

Damien suddenly froze. He didn’t have time to fully react as there was a sudden knock at the door. He looked over his shoulder and saw a letter slide through the bottom crack. He wrapped the telephone cord around the kitchen counter and made his way to the front door.

“What do you mean?” Damien asked anxiously.

“Damien, stop,” Rick urged. “Please don’t act like you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

Damien paused as he thought, but once his eyes caught the letter, his heart sank to his stomach. It was an eviction notice for late payment on his rent. He immediately snatched the letter from the ground and tore it open with his hands.

“Damien?!” Rick yelled. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just got distracted,” Damien said justly.

“Jesus Christ, Damien,” Rick grew flustered as it was clear through his voice. “I move you to work closing shifts and you can’t even show up for them! I called you several times that night and yesterday morning. What the hell happened to you?”

Damien struggled to process anything Rick was saying to him. He had no idea what day it was, let alone the time. But as he stared blankly at the folded letter, his eyes skimmed through it hopelessly, and the date read the first of February. Damien was perplexed. He could have sworn it was still January.

“I don’t know, I...” Damien stuttered.

“I need you to come in for tonight,” Rick ordered. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Damien said. “And look, Rick, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know–”

Rick unexpectedly hung up. Damien heard the long, dreary line cut as he took the phone away from his ear. He appeared confused and hooked the telephone back into the receiver. The letter, still folded in his grasp, sent a rush of anxiety through his body as he completely forgot to pay his last rent. And now his manager was furious, unaware of the consequences that awaited him.

Damien sat at the edge of his couch with his face buried in his hands, thinking about how fucked up his life was turning out since the breakup. But somewhere amid his troubled thoughts, Damien recalled his lucid dream. He stood alone in a dark room, silenced by an eerie state. His limbs numb, fingers ice cold. He could barely hear anything but a faint whisper. A soft voice that carried right through him. He then tasted the bittersweetness of raspberry gloss and smelled the scent of iris. A muse approached him; mysterious and gothic. Damien had not recognized her but strangely knew her name. Serena.

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When Damien arrived at Skate Palace, he was met with an uncomfortable vibe by his coworkers. Abby, who used to work the morning shifts with him, was stationed at the rental booth, along with Mary and Brian. It was strange to see all three of them scheduled together, which only raised more concern for Damien’s current situation.

“Abby,” Damien called her from over the counter.

Abby glared at him before approaching.

“Where the fuck were you Saturday night?” Abby asked. “We thought something bad happened to you.”

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” Damien stressed. “What are you doing here, anyway. You don’t work night shifts.”

“Damien,” Rick called to him from around the corner. “Step inside the office, please.”

Damien’s eyes widened once he saw his manager. He cleared his throat and adjusted his backpack on his shoulder restlessly before heading to the back. For Damien, it felt like a long, dreadful walk to the principal’s office. The halls were sickly gray; the ceiling panels dull and ominous. Everything felt unusual.

Damien entered the office coldly. Rick leaned against his desk with his arms crossed and his head slightly tilted down. He tried fixing his collar to relieve the tension that was built in his throat, which only meant he was preparing for another stern lecture about attendance.

“I’ve given you too many chances,” Rick began faintly. “Each time it got worse and worse. I don’t get it, Damien. What do I have to do to make you see how important this situation is? Tell me.”

Damien stood quiet as he couldn’t even look Rick in his eyes. He knew that if whatever answer he tried to give him, it would be retracted by a blunt response that would lower his self-esteem. Rick stood there, arms crossed, waiting. He chuckled disappointingly as Damien barely raised his lip.

“I’m gonna need your shirts and your card by tomorrow,” Rick said bluntly.

Damien drew his eyes daringly at Rick as he appeared shocked.

“Make sure to clear out your locker and take any personal items–” Rick added before being cut off by Damien.

“Wait, Rick, at least give me a chance to explain myself,” Damien begged.

“I’m done giving you chances, Damien,” Rick said. “What part of that do you not understand? We’ve had too many conversations about your irresponsibility over the last few months and it’s only gotten worse. I don’t want to hear anything else.”

“I just have a lot going on in my life right now, Rick, please,” Damien said as his voice withered. “I really need this job. You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand, Damien!” Rick raised his voice. “And that’s the problem. I tried being there for you, man. I stuck my neck out for you because I believed you were capable of doing great things for yourself. But I guess I made a mistake.”

Damien’s throat swelled as his jaw tightened.

“That’s what you think?” Damien asked. “You made a mistake because you thought I wasn’t capable of getting my own job, my own place, my own fucking car! Do you know how many times I stuck my neck out for you when you had call-outs or needed me to work over-time? How many fucking times I had to help out around this place and got no recognition for three fucking years!”

Rick calmly glared at Damien.

“Get out of my office,” he said subtly.

“Yeah, that’s all you have to say, huh,” Damien mocked him. “No wonder your wife left you because you’re just a bitch!”

“Get the fuck out of my office right now before I call the authorities!” Rick shouted as he walked up to Damien. “And I better not see you around here or we’re gonna have some problems.”

They both stared at each other like dogs. Eyes tough, grins shriveled, ready for someone to make the next move. Damien unbuttoned his work shirt and threw it across the room before storming out of the office. He walked out into the lobby heatedly without looking back at his ex-coworkers, but he could feel their eyes panning him down as he left Skate Palace for good.

In the lone, deserted parking lot of Southgate Plaza, Damien walked to his car that was parked under the same dingy light pole. But during his walk back to his car, Damien began to pace, his head faced down to the starch pavement that was glossed by an earlier rain. His throat went numb and his eyes started to burn with tears. As he reached his car, he leaned his entire body against the door, softly crying as he tried to hold himself up. He then collapsed, his back against the doorframe and his eyes now scorching. Damien used his t-shirt to wipe the tears from his face, but it was hard. He was there again; drowning in his sorrow as he thought about his painfully driven defeat. Through a sudden break up with his ex-girlfriend, being laid off from his job, and soon to be evicted from his place, Damien could only think of one alternative to numb the pain he so desperately wished to exhaust. However, as his mind was bending into the dark possibility of suicide, Damien heard the distant drum of a revving engine.

As this thundering sound drew closer, Damien swiped his t-shirt from his face and saw the diamond-white glare of high-beams enter the plaza. In a matter of seconds, a bullet-piercing sound shot through the parking lot as a black 1991 Ford Mustang bolted towards Damien, and drifted into a smooth stop just meters in front of him. The crystalized beams nearly blinded him as he shielded his eyes. The driver door suspended open, and a dark figure emerged from the sports coupe. In a sexy red bodycon dress and black ankle-strapped heels, a transcendental silhouette of a young woman appeared as her eyes glowed.

“Serena?” Damien said as he strangely knew her name.

In a soft, leisurely motion, she stretched her hand out to Damien. His breath went still as he unconsciously accepted her grasp. Her hands were icy and her nails were wickedly long and sharp and polished as the black coupe behind her. She lifted Damien to his feet and peered into his eyes. Whatever dark substance that lingered in his soul was no longer viable, and at that moment, Damien had forgotten the pain that once troubled him. He unintentionally followed this vexing entity back inside the Mustang and was taken afar from the misery that kept him in that bleak, empty plaza.

Serena cruised through the nightly city while Damien admired the scenery. He never knew how beautiful Seattle was, especially during the night. He always wanted to explore the city and discover its cultural wonders that not many people knew about. Although to be seated in a vintage car, accompanied by a beautiful young woman, and to see the lively metropolis under a clouded sky was a therapeutic relief that Damien so desperately needed. However, he did not know who this mysterious young woman was, or why she was so persistent in being around him.

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“Where are we going?” Damien asked.

“You’ll see,” Serena said quietly with a soft smirk.

They eventually arrived at a high-end condominium complex downtown. It was a sleek, luminous tower that stretched several feet high, wedged within Seattle’s entertainment district. Its poised credibility was known by many business influencers that worked in the area and were rented occasionally by well-known celebrities alike. Damien, who was completely in awe, admired the environment as he could only imagine what the interior looked like.

Serena parked inside the controlled access parking garage. Among several different vehicles that occupied the storage, the Mustang was certainly the most appealing. It only provoked Damien’s curiosity to know who exactly this young woman was. He then followed her into the elevator which took them to the last floor of the high-rise.

When the elevator doors opened, Damien stepped out into a vast hallway. The warm colors of cedar and penny wood matched the subtle tones of the honey lights that conveyed elegance. Damien followed Serena further into the high-rise, down the elegant hall until they reached the large, twin doors of the apartment. Serena casually gripped the brass-plated handles and opened the doors to the penthouse. She waited as Damien calmly walked in, only to see his face glow in wonder.

The Penthouse was a sharp decor with blended palettes of neutral color. The walls were of a classical touch that left signature praise to an expensive condo. Damien stepped into the lounge area, which featured a bar and its own dining facilities, followed by an open view of the city. A bathroom was attached to the lounge, hidden around a secretive door that opened by movement. Its entirety was made of expensive marble, designed perfectly with two sinks, a tub, and a walk-in shower separated by a stainless glass door.

Damien stumbled back into the lounge area and noticed Serena at the bar. She poured two glasses of gin from a collection of liquor that rested on the counter behind the bar. She casually made her way around to Damien and handed him his drink. He undoubtedly accepted it but waited until Serena drank from her glass first. The whole time she stared at him with the same sexy smirk, knowing exactly what ran through his mind. Damien threw the liquor down his throat and tried to suppress the burning sensation that etched down his chest. Serena, who still kept that sexy smirk, walked back to the bar and poured herself another glass. She then sat down in the lounge, legs crossed seductively, and waited for Damien to say something.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.

“Who are you?” Damien asked.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” Serena said before she took a sip from her glass.

Damien thought about the name that lingered in his mind. It was like a forgotten memory that had suddenly found its way back to his consciousness. However, Damien was perplexed at the idea of him knowing her name, as he couldn’t remember her telling him.

“But why do I know your name?” Damien asked anxiously. “I never asked for it.”

“You didn’t have to,” Serena said.

Damien hesitated as he strangely believed her. His mind throttled for a response, but he quickly retreated as another memory provoked his thought. The night at Trinity resurfaced and Damien recalled everything that led up to their unexpected kiss.

“That night at the club,” Damien began methodically, “when we kissed. I never felt anything like that before. It was like my head was on fire. It was like my entire body was submerged in a pool of cold flames. I never felt anything like that before.”

Serena softly bit her lip as she remembered.

“But something tells me you haven’t felt anything like that, either,” Damien added.

Serena lowered the glass from her lips and stared right through him. The blood in her veins ran thick as her heart steadily paced. She was getting turned on the longer she stared at him. Although Damien couldn’t remember what happened after their encounter in the alley, Serena was sexually aroused as she recalled perfectly.

“It’s a shame you don’t remember everything from that night,” Serena said. “Only what I wanted you to remember.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Damien asked curiously.

Serena smiled as she stopped herself from answering.

“You have a very interesting past,” Serena alluded.

Damien felt nauseous. He was uncomfortable knowing that he was too drunk to remember anything from that night. However, he felt more uncomfortable knowing he had told her his dark and vulnerable state of mind.

“I wouldn’t consider it very interesting,” Damien said firmly as he tried not to think about Aaliyah.

“Maybe not,” Serena said as she finished her glass. “Or maybe you just tell yourself that to hide the emotions you’re so afraid to accept.”

Damien sighed heavily as he clenched his teeth and squeezed his fists.

“Oh, you’re getting upset, aren’t you?” Serena moaned. “I like that.”

Serena placed the glass on the coffee table and stood from the couch. She slowly made her way toward Damien as she could smell his blood getting warmer.

“I want you to feel angry,” Serena said sensitively. “I want you to feel all the hate and despair of the life you once thought mattered. All the things you thought meant something to you are no longer relevant. You are nothing now.”

Damien associated Serena’s demeaning words with all the inconveniences that tortured his life. The inconvenience of losing Aaliyah, his job, and his apartment bundled into one intolerable emotion of pain that caused his heart to ache. Damien couldn’t breathe, his blood boiling hot, and his eyes brimming with tears. He was about to explode into a hysterical rage he was unsure to control. Though as Serena stood before him, she gently caressed her hands against his face, and her eyes locked onto his.

“But when you’re with me,” Serena began tenderly. She leaned in close and her lips inevitably met Damien’s, and that soft, sweet raspberry taste sent his mind into a fiery tornado of euphoric pleasure. And once her lips detached from his, Serena provocatively glared into Damien’s eyes and said, “I want you to feel like you’re everything.”

The rage was subdued. The pain was no longer there. Damien felt exactly what Serena had told him he was, and he felt more alive than ever. He could barely move in that paralyzed state; similar to his lucid dream that loitered his memory. He then licked the remaining taste from his lips and searched for words.

“What are you?” Damien strangely asked.

Serena was startled as the question caught her off guard. She was curious to know if Damien was aware of her supernatural presence, as the recent memories he retained were altered by her. However, it seemed unusual, as Damien had referred to his dream, something Serena could not experience.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” Serena anxiously replied.

Damien looked behind Serena at the open view of the city and only saw himself standing in the reflection. His eyes casually drew back to hers, and in that short, suspenseful silence between them, Damien knew.

“I had a feeling,” Damien said.

“And how do you feel about it now?” Serena asked with allure.

“I don’t know,” Damien said softly, “you tell me.”

His lips unexpectedly met hers. She tried to remain calm but she could smell the intensity of his sexual appetite for her. Serena gradually threw her arms around him, her grasp tight as he was a few inches taller. Each kiss was a quick, breathless touch that intensified their arousal. Serena snatched the end of Damien’s t-shirt and tore it from his body. His lean, sculpted arms forced her off her feet as he hurled her against the bar. She pulled him back as her lips remained dormant on his; her dress suddenly being stripped from her slender body. She tore away her black-laced bra and invited Damien to stroke his tongue against her chest up to her neck. Her senses heightened the more his touch caressed her skin. His blood smelled like warm honey as it perfused through his sweat. Serena fought back the urge as his neck was inches from her mouth. She clenched the edge of the bar with one hand as the other latched around his neck. Damien unbuckled his pants and dropped his boxers to his ankles. He rubbed the head of his penis against her clit as it caused her to quiver. Her nails gently dug into his neck and Damien grunted. He slid her laced thong from her legs and slowly made his way inside her. She gasped heavily as her nails peeled some of his skin. Damien clenched his teeth in pain, feeling his blood leak down to his back. Serena smelt the sweet aroma of it as it traced down his spine. Her eyes went dark and her teeth sharpened. It was impossible to resist, but before she could submit to her desires, Damien thrust his entire body onto her. Each stroke a bolting rush that sent lightning through her body. Her moans were sensuous as it carried out into the room, allowing Damien to increase his momentum into a satisfying climax. Serena’s legs quivered as she tried to tame her orgasm, but Damien made it difficult as his lips gently sucked the surface of her nipples. It was an enduring sequence that felt like hours. Damien had been pulled into a world he didn’t know he was ready for, but with Serena, he felt like he could do anything.

One sexual confrontation quickly turned into episodes of pornography. In the dark shadows of the penthouse, hidden deep in the vacant corridors of the complex, there was a place dedicated to these erotic obscenities. A place the size of an empty hall. A place that only allowed a suspended globe of smoky light to reveal a round, single-layered bed above a maroon red carpet.

Damien would lay naked on this bed and wait anxiously for Serena. She would emerge from the black shadows of the room like a voluptuous necromancer. Her nude body covered by a black, see-through robe that she would unveil the moment she reached the bed. Their sex was seductive and uncanny. Rough yet leisurely. His hands smoothly gripping her neck as she rode him in slow, swiveled motions. It became routine as hours of play turned into days. Each confrontation was a new experience.

Sex was quickly mixed with psychedelics. Brain-warping drugs created fantasies that were perceptible realities. In the course of their endeavors, Damien would see a world of blazing colors, hear an opera of dreary melodies, and taste everlasting pleasure from the touch of Serena’s lips. However, these drugs only brought out the disorder in him, and the hunger for her.

During the late hours of the night, when the city was nearly asleep, Damien would stalk for her. His thwarted mind was seen through a drugged-out lens as his eyes were dark and threatening. He waited in the shadows like a sullen predator, the handle of a .45 1911 sweaty in his grasp. And when a drunken couple would walk the allies of the bars, Damien would emerge from a steaming fog produced by the sewers and hold them at gunpoint. He would then lure them deep within these allies and wait until Serena would descend upon them with her vampiric nature. Her demonic fangs would sink deep into their jugular, bursting their veins, and drinking their blood like delicious nectar. It was disturbing as their bodies would deflate and their symbolic features would wither tight against their vitriolic bones. Damien had seen this many times; corrupted and unnerved.

In the darkroom beneath the penthouse, Damien would occasionally watch as she would eat her victims, sometimes sending them into a coma. Her vampiric abilities allowed her to manipulate their minds, creating an illusion that they had to obey any command she requested. This proved useful to their sexual desires, creating threesomes that eventually turned into orgies. Serena took pleasure in seeing other women seduce Damien, but would slit their wrists as punishment when they made him cum too fast. A sense of jealousy, he supposed. But somewhere in his drugged-out, psychedelic state, Damien would sit at the edge of the bed and think. He would hear the subtle voices of different women seduce him, and occasionally saw duplicates of Serena participate around the room; whether it be her drinking blood or fucking her victims. Damien knew something was wrong.

On one night, during the late hours of a stalk, Damien waited sullenly in a dark alley. He held the .45 close to his chest, peering into the foggy night as the city lights were a dazzling haze. He waited as new prey became available. Serena was hidden, somewhere in the shadows, waiting for Damien to lure them. But once he revealed himself to them, the gun in his hand began to tremble. He pointed the .45 aimlessly at two wicked figures disguised as Serena. However, they did not represent her mysterious and seductive presence, but instead, a terrifying illusion of the monster she truly was.

Damien reacted boldly as these creatures of Serena exposed their black eyes, sharp teeth, and uncontrollable hunger for blood. The first had lunged at Damien, and in a quick pull of the trigger, the barrel snapped, a bullet casing twirled in the air. Serena hit the ground immediately, but the other was quick to attack. Damien shot again, the bullet missing, but the next hitting the creature in the chest. He stood by motionlessly as he peered over their dead bodies. It was then Damien had seen their true form; two young adults who had no intention of dying that night.

Damien stood over their bodies coldly as Serena crept behind him. She had seen their timid faces; still and cold as their blood-soaked the pavement. She glared at Damien curiously only to sense the guilt that ate his cooked mind. Serena slowly took the gun from his hand, stepped in front of him, and glared into his eyes. His soul was cracked.

“Come with me,” Serena said softly.

Damien heard her deceptive voice through the chaos and looked into her eyes. She caressed his cheeks as the cold numbed him. And in a quick, woozy shift, Damien found himself sitting at the edge of the bed in the dark room, surrounded by cadaverous corpses. He no longer heard the voices in his head. He no longer saw the clones of his vampire girlfriend. What Damien saw was something else entirely; something decisive to his manipulated state. He had seen himself.