Chapter 21: Vampire’s Shadow

--- Aurelio Hermenez ---

His shadow shifted and moved until it took on the shape of a woman before further shifting so that it seemed to sit on the counter in spite of being an otherwise flat image.

After a moment a pair of solid white eyes opened on the shadow, along with a thin but grinning mouth. (I honestly wasn’t expecting you to be able to hear me for a few more weeks.)

“And why’s that?” He asked, keeping to a whisper as he pulled out some bread from a cabinet over the shadow’s head.

(I’m somewhat lacking in corporeality at the moment.) The shadow pointed out, moving her flat hand in an obvious manner. (I didn’t think I’d be able to introduce myself until I’d built enough power to form actual vocal chords.)

“Well, given how you can talk, are you going to introduce yourself?”

(Hmm, don’t you know you’re supposed to introduce yourself to a lady before asking their name?) The shadow teased amusedly.

“And don’t you know you’re not supposed to eavesdrop on others’ conversations?” He teased dryly.

The shadow’s smile grew as she seemed to laugh inside his head. (Depends on what game we’re playing.)

“Mmm, twenty questions.” He answered, moving for the fridge. “So, your name?” Something occurred to him. “If you have one?”

(Names have power in certain circles.) The shadow told him as he dug around in the fridge while pointedly ignoring the blood bags in the back. (That said, given our relationship you can call me Geraldine Kite.)

(An alias.) He immediately decided, closing the fridge with his hip.

The fact that Geraldine’s smile grew, just confirmed that she could hear his thoughts.

“Well, Jerry, you already know my name is Aurelio Hermenez.” Admittedly it wasn’t the name he was born with, but he preferred his mother’s name to his father’s.

(You really are too perfect…) The shadow chuckled as he began assembling a sandwich.

“Perfect for what?” He asked, knowing that if she was anything like the people from his father’s circle she was not going to answer him honestly.

(To be my host.)

He paused what he was doing. “Your… host? Do you mean that in the social way or in the parasitic way?”

(Both, though I’d consider our relationship to be more mutualistic.) Jerry confessed.

His eyes narrowed. “How so?”

The shadow seemed to buff her nails against her chest. (Well, you know how little Alex thinks he gave you the, heh, gift of blood by accident?)

He remembered the woman he’d seen before blacking out. “I’m guessing that was actually you.”

(Yes, though given my lack of a body he’s mistakenly claimed you as his own child. Which given my lack of a body is probably for the best.) Jerry admitted, looking conflicted.

He couldn’t help but grimace at that reminder. “I hope you don’t expect me to start calling you mommy.”

(Oh? Are you sure?) For a brief moment the shadow once more took on the form of a beautiful woman as she crossed one leg over the other before slowly leaning forward and revealing her neckline. “Because I can be a very nice mommy.”

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For his own sanity he decided not to respond, instead filling the sudden dryness in his mouth with the rest of his water bottle.

Geraldine laughed before sinking back into a shadow. (Don’t worry, unlike Mr. Pierce I view this more as a student-teacher relationship than something familial. I have no idea where he got addled on that one.)

That was a relationship he was much more comfortable with than either of the previous ones. “Okay, and what exactly do you get from turning me into a vampire?”

(For one, a body I can actually feel and interact with the world through.) Geraldine told him dryly. (An expected and accepted cost of cheating death.)

“You’re a ghost.” He realized, while doing his best not to squee at yet another teenage fantasy coming true. (Do not think about Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. Do not think about Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. Do not think about Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore.)

Jerry gave him -what he assumed was- an amused look. (I… have no idea who either of those people are.)

“Right, um, how long have you been a ghost?” He asked.

(I’m not entirely sure.) Jerry shrugged. (A few decades at least… Truthfully, I was asleep in my Soul Box until a member of my Bloodline opened it. A failsafe to maintain my sanity while trapped in a completely incorporeal state.)

“Soul Box…” He repeated, not sure if that was just a fancy way of saying coffin or something else.

(It was an anchor to resurrect myself after death.) Jerry explained, before elaborating that. (It was something I made after discovering that the Bad Blood does not actually grant immortality, but rather reduces one’s aging speed. My own attempt at recreating the process slowed me and the rest of my Bloodline down to approximately a third of the human norm. I used this additional time to study Necromantic practices in an attempt to figure out true immortality, anchoring my soul to a physical object that would then use my Bloodline as a resonance factor to resurrect me as a possessor of sorts. That said, given how I refuse to give up my hard earned magic I had to give up the domination aspect of things and instead make it a vicarious existence through whomever I would end up bonding with.)

He… tried to process all of that, but he also got the distinct impression she was purposely dumping so much information on him, solely to keep him from understanding what she was telling him. (That or she just likes proving how smart she is.)

(Oh, that is a factor.) Jerry admitted with a grin, before frowning. (I also like having someone to talk to after… who knows how long in isolation.)

“You’re being fairly upfront about all of this.” He noted, unable to keep all of his suspicion out of his voice.

(I am.) The shadow -apparently possessing him- agreed. (As I said, I’m currently dependent on you to live on any level. I need you to eat, drink, move and so on for me. Admittedly, I’ll be a little more active once I’ve regained some of my power but for the most part you are now my Soul Box and should you die then so shall I. Hence why I used what power I had to add you to my Bloodline before Mr. Pierce could accidentally kill you.)

“Okay…”

He was silent for a minute, mostly to eat his food but that was also an excuse to go over everything she’d told him thus far. Something Geraldine made no motion to interrupt.

(So to summarize she was a vampire witch like Alex, who turned herself into a ghost when she died, that for whatever reason is now haunting me, and she turned me into a vampire to increase my survivability because if I died her ghost will… cease to exist I guess?)

Considering all of that, once he finished his food he gave Geraldine a curious look, “What exactly do you want from me?” (Because I’m not stupid enough to think you don’t want something beyond my survival.) “I’m not going to help you manipulate these people if that’s what you want.” (I’ve more than had my share of political relationships.)

The shadow took on a disgusted look, something he didn’t actually think was possible for a shadow. (Believe me, I am more than done with politics. I spent my entire first life controlled by politics, I have no intention of wasting my second on such a thing. I’ve already told you I’m living vicariously through you. I don’t mean that in a metaphorical sense, I mean that in that I quite literally am living through you. I feel what you feel. I taste what you taste. I hunger for what you hunger for. You want to know what I want from you? I want you to drink, to fight, to fuck…)

Geraldine’s expression shifted into something he could only describe as desperate. (Gods, if you have sex for me -with an actual human being, and it be good- I will teach you whatever dark magic you want. I am speaking of raising the dead, killing gods, whatever you want.)

He wasn’t sure how much of all of that he believed, the entire offer being just a little too good to be true, but he absolutely believed the sheer amount of thirst in this poor woman’s voice.

“Um, that’s… not necessary…” He’d honestly feel really weird if he accepted, almost like he was selling himself for magic. (Which would kind of dirty the whole thing…)

(Please…?)

“You… you can wingman me?” He offered.

(Thank you…)