home

search

Chapter 8: Vanity’s are vanity.. All are vanity…

  Old and beaten, rotting and sour, leaning to one side and swaying back and forth with a distasteful creaking. This was the house from Daniel's perspective, but to everyone else, the place was rather lively, well-built with warm colors, cozy in a way. They loved what lay within. Daniel hated it... All he could think about was all the people who were expecting him to be their entertainment, dancing like a dog and drinking like a mad man, ‘Life of the party’ as they would call it. As he began to walk towards it and follow his friends into the impending nightmare, he began to ponder on how he would even ingest alcohol, nevertheless pretend that he wasn't what he was. But no one would know, most importantly nobody needed to know, he’ll just walk in, flash a couple of smiles, dap a few people up, then slip away and walk elsewhere. Where, you ask? He didn't even have an answer. Just somewhere that wasn't here. But for now, he would simply sigh and scurry in with the rest of them.

  At the door some people smoking outside and coming in and out recognized him for who he was, he replied to their greetings with simple hellos and thank yous, everyone was rather impressed; complimenting him on how well made, realistic and authentic his ‘costume’ was, especially his eyes, since he no longer could hide them. In a way, playing pretend made Daniel feel better about the whole situation, his previous popularity was starting to make him feel like less of an outcast... Past the door, some more people he's recognized from other events are ecstatic by his arrival, high fiving, bro hugging. They were a little thrown off by his frigid hand, but no one was concerned too much after he told them it was a part of his piece. For a moment, Daniel actually began to feel like he fit in again, felt like people actually accepted him, liked him, and loved him for who he was. It was easier for him to hide when everyone thought he was acting, no matter how convincing or at times unnerving his approach was. He wanted to make a joke, he hasn't properly made other people laugh in what felt like months.

  The music was loud which forced you to yell for someone else to hear you. The interior of the house was cozy, with a mixture of hardwood and carpet flooring. People gathered in one of three places for the most part. The kitchen is where all the booze was, but it was far too small to hold the absolute onslaught of people cramming to get drunk. Everyone was shoulder to shoulder. Some 30 people trying to cram into such a small space was obnoxious, especially because it was closest to the front door. You would have to push past people spilling out in order to get into the second most populated place, the hallways. The halls, as they were, were in the shape of a T, coming foremost out from the door. The kitchen was located almost directly at the front door to the right, if you went further down and made a right at the end of the hall, you would reach the patio overlooking the dark black sea. If you went to the left however, you would be greeted with an open room dance floor, where the music was coming from. That place was mostly, if not completely empty, even though it was the intended dance floor, ghosted except for the few outliers on their phone or awkwardly looking around.

  After he was assured in by the mob, he found even more people he recognized but could not put as to who they were again. In his mind, it's been a month since he's seen these people when, in reality, it has literally only been two weeks and one day. You may ask yourself, ‘Well, that wouldn’t surely be a problem now, would it? He is merely acquainted with these people? No?’ To which I would say, these were his day-ones… These were the people who were there for him at his lowest, and got him through tough times, and he can't even repay them by remembering their names, how sad… But nevertheless, one thing led to another, one handshake after another, and somehow, by the end of it, he had a shot glass in one hand and a random girl he's never met before in the other… And.. Did he. Learn anything?! It was like what has happened to him hasn't happened to him at all. If the action were sad, the sight was sadder. Out of everyone there avoiding their responsibilities, the perverts, the ones giving into their addictions, drug addicts, pot heads and alcoholics… He was the biggest disappointment out of all of them for one reason… Because he was the one that said, “And for what?! For sex!?! For pleasure??! I threw away everything for this?! DAMN YOU!” before promptly ramming his foot into a poor man's chest.

  Was all his weeping for nothing? I ask you. Truly. I am asking you. He wept and he wept, he ran up the walls with guilt and shame. His repentance was at the forefront of his mind. He wouldn't lay a hand on the innocent, or the vile, even while starving. For he knew better, he knew this was a judgement, and yet.. Smiling, laughing, clanking glasses. Not a care in the world, an ounce of shame… But now, of course, he didn’t give much thought to it beforehand, of how he was actually going to drink alcohol. A sudden flinch, pulling back to reality, the fantasy was coming to an end; as he was in a circle of practically naked women, and barbarically savage men. As soon as everyone's glasses clinked and an outcry of “Cheers” was sounded, Daniel was finally put down, and the haze of calamity gnawing at his head was uplifted. He had been ensnared, pressed to give in by his peers lest they all accuse him of transgressing against them. So he followed suit, and swung the glass back; and the burning he felt was demonstrative… Instantly being repulsed into a choking frenzy, he knew before, during, and after the strong drink would destroy him. The pain was so great he was keeled and bent over by it, his eyes watered and bulged without order, as he tried desperately not to vomit the gift given to him. If the feeling were to be described, it would be like forcing a giant house in flames down a man's throat. His body took a sword against the strong drink, and the drink did take his body by blood.

  When he quickly noticed he was beginning to cough up blood, he gave haste to the washroom, even while people were showing concern for him. He crashed and drove into the people in his way, and said people turned against him to give a rebuke to his action, but his silhouette whistled in the wind with each gallop, racing against time to expel the lethal toxin. And hence when he reached his sweet meadow, he did slam the door and vomit out his blood and his drink in a horrible black mixture that smelled of Death. Its filth polluted the water into a thick pitch of darkness, and it did bubble with a glassy fizz. The prudent smell hit his noise and it forced him to gag and immediately vomit even more blood, and with extending violence. When he could breathe again, he went limp and toppled over laying flat on the floor face up. Who knows what ungodly fluids were on it with him? It was partially sticky with trash all about, stained mirror and all. As he laid there, staring into the ceiling, he simply wanted to pass out and fall into a deep sleep, for all of it to end. To stop smelling, hearing, feeling, lusting, everything and everyone all at once none stop. He closed his eyes to try, but he knew it could not be here, “Maybe, somewhere on the beach, that would be nice.” he mothered to himself, his throat inflamed and his body in total eruption, the cacophony of voices he can scarce compare to fear. Over stimulation, would naught be able to describe an eighth of it. And as he arose from agony, his head pounding with the might of 10,000 horsemen, opening the washroom door to things in full pandemonium. Speakers defiling the air with meaningless filler, everyone around him laughing, crying, gossiping, dancing, judging, drunk, high, passed out. With an uncaring effort did he push through them trying to get to the porch, but then he stopped for a moment…

  Ah…. Ah.. Yes.. That look in his eyes. That empty look and exhausted posture…

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Then did it dawn upon Daniel like Armageddon to the unjust.

  Standing in the sea of people, darkness being broken by strobe lights.

  Then did he realize, realize how pointless it all was, with that all menacing glare.

  Then did he know,

  Vanity’s are vanity.. All are vanity…

  What a beautiful revelation to man. What a gift for him to receive.

  Take heart dear listener, for I am leaving you now. But I am near by, and shall be back soon.

  For Daniel’s suffering be not in vain, for has been hollowed out and emptied, and must endure for a little season longer. For He that is mighty makes the ground dried out and desolate before he gives the good gift; of fertile soil, and the fruit yielding abundance.

  As Daniel stood in the midst of the uproar of party goers he thought to himself, with tried and weary eyes, “Did… I really enjoy this? Is, this what I loved? Being here? At the center of it all?...” He let out a depressive sign, continuing his walk towards the glass sliding door. The room was quite massive and the ceiling quite tall, meaning that there were many people he had to traverse through in order that he may be free. The tide of partier's went back and forth, pushing and shoving-jumping up and down to the rhythm of the latest chart topping song, the party was now reaching its climax. The glow of Daniel's red eyes pierced through the crowd like a search light, scanning the room, and although it was near pitch black, he could see as if the lights were on. He shoved and bumped into more and more people without a care in the world of what they may say or what they may do. In his mind he was worthless… Suddenly however, there came a hand to his shoulder pulling him from behind. He turned to answer it, being greeted by a young man with a well cut fade, he was also Latino, he was dressed as swat officer. He also had a look of announcement on his face, and with boldness he did ask, “Yo bro, you good?” Although it was more of a "What's your problem?” then anything. The boy was drunk and feeling prideful, wanting to make a statement about his perceived disrespect. He wanted to start a fight, punk someone off, put another man down…

  But all he got in return is the dissatisfaction of a hand placed on the heart, “Forgive me...” Daniel replies lowering his head. The aggressor was taken back by this, pausing briefly with a look of disbelief and confusion, he still wanted a fight but he didn't know what to say. Although Daniel could easily incapacitate him given what happened to Bullnapar a couple nights ago, but.. “Yo man i said what the fuck is your problem?!” Then the drunk turned him around and shoved him into another group of people, and as begun to walk away towards the door again, his promptly received a punch to the back of his head. “Bitch!” Cried out his nameless aggressor, and as more and more people saw what was happening, his friends, their friends, and whoever else began to swarm like locusts to get between them. All Daniel could do was hold his breath and grit his teeth, everything in his body was clawing at him to turn around and snap his head off, enraged by the stinging blunt pain, thinking to himself “Rghh, It would be so easy! So easy.. Asshole, it would be so easy… TO SPLATTER YOU’RE BRAIN ALL OVER THE PLACE!!” He headed even faster through people, trying simply to remove himself from the situation, until he finally reached the glass sliding door and stepping out.

  He ran outside towards the shore line, not even bothering to close the door. There were some people on the porch, two smoking cigarettes and one smoking weed. He volts over the wooding railing and lands into sanded vegetation of bushes and shrubs. Stumbling through with twigs nicking and nagging his clothes. As he broke free from the bush he ran forwards to a small dune. The wind was strong and as he ran further and further away the lights from the house began to dim. There were some stragglers from the party walking along the beach, but he gave no thought to them, he just had to run; in a way the whole thing felt like the night of the incident all over again, the night his life would be flipped into a never-ending misery of fear and hunger… The sand that separated the earth from the water seemed as though it was endless, and subsequently upon reaching the second dune he fell over by the force of the wind, roughly tumbling to the bottom.

  As he laid there covered in sand, scratching and clawing the ground, putting his head into the floor, curled up screaming into his clothes. He gritted his teeth and rose to his knees in breaking point, punching the sand all over the place in the same character and virtuosity as he did before with his floor boards. Hate? Hate?! Where would one even begin to understand his hate, for everyone and everything that has treated him like an abortion… When he finally exhausted all the energy he had, falling forward on his jaw with his but in the air, his lungs feeling like a cold deflated sad balloon, completely defeated…

  “Daniel.” He hears a voice from the shoreline calling out to him… He groans and turns his head, still looking at the ground, “Hgghhh..” he didn't think it was real at first, maybe it was just the wind or something. Until he heard it again, "Daniel!" and before he could write it off again as just some whips in the wind, “Get up!” His eyes dilate... There is clearly someone here now, who could it be though? He looks up with his miserable face, and drooping eyes, “huh?” And when he looked up, not too far away, he as it were, a man? And an exceedingly tall one at that, maybe around eight to nine feet tall to be exact, it was hard to tell from Daniels blurry perspective. “He must be from the party.” he said to himself, still slowly coming back to his senses. As he vision began to sharpen more and more, he saw the following figure.

  His back was faced against him, as he looked out into the eternal darkness. And he wore an extravagant royal white garment, with golden lining, accents, and beautiful flowing patterns all about. Around his waist was a belt fashioned to complement his robe, and the belt was long, going around his waist and crossing his back in an X, so that both sides went over his shoulders and in through the front of his belt, to sway by his feet. And in his left hand he held a staff of iron, that from the bottom barred a beautiful subtle ingraining of flowers and magistrate peacocks; and at top its spiral sat two snakes intertwined with their heads facing each other, and a cross in between them. And he wore a red head band that disappeared into his hair and came out of his ears. He was far too well dressed, and was anomalous among the party goers, eerily standing out. Even more eerily simply standing there.

  They did not turn to face Daniel, but our vampire did rise to meet him. He didn't have to walk very far, and when he was close enough, he stopped for a second. No, Something didn't feel right, this, “person” if you call it that.. Its freakish height and size, the way it was dressed, and the way it was subtly lit a faint blue by the moon and the distant house lights. After the pause, Daniel looked side to side to see if anyone was with him, but he also noticed that there were no footprints around his visitor… Before he could think or ponder any longer, it spoke to him, "Give man a blessing, and he will call it a curse. Bitter in his mouth, yes. But soon, sweet in his belly…” The wind blew one last time before it came to a standstill, and the distant sound of waves and music did still too. Nothing but silence and weight. The figure began to turn his head. Slowly. very slowly...

  And as it reared its head around, to look upon him to deliver the warning. Saying unto him in a manner most chilling.

  “Someone. Is coming…”

  A shadow then casted over Daniel from the dune he fell from, and as he snapped around with speed unmatched, he saw them, and he was astonished.

Recommended Popular Novels