Evanescere: Origins
Read Evanescere: Origins Online
Authors: Vanessa Buckingham
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product s of the
author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental
This book is dedicated to my children Leilani and
Tristan. To my husband for having the patience to put up with me while I worked
on this project. A special Thank You to my little big sister Andrea for taking
the time to read portions of my book. Finally, I want to thank everyone who
supported me during this project. I promise there are more books to come. This
is just the beginning of a long journey.
Contents
The word Evanescere is
the latin word for
Evanescence meaning to fade; vanish; and disappear
.
For
the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the
altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an
atonement for the soul.
Leviticus 17:11
W |
ATCHING LIFE PASS ME BY
THESE days and I realize how pathetic this world has become. People missing,
dying, the world in total chaos and there is no saving it. I smile at the irony
of my own thoughts since I happen to be responsible for a small part of this
problem.
I see the flyers around
the towns, flyers of myself. Correction of who I used to be. It is a constant reminder
that my family has not given up on finding me. I have to constantly remind
myself to go forward and forget. It is easier said than done. You don’t ever
think of your actions when you are doing them only the consequences of them
after the fact.
My decision to stay away
is torturous but it spares my family. I sometimes wonder if there is a way to
be there without breaking the rules. We have one major rule to live by:
Secrecy.
I push the thought away
and stalk my prey, in the dark, melee of the Big Easy. “Focus,” I tell myself.
At times I forget my nature and consider myself more of a vigilante. As I walking
the lighted street of Bourbon in the French Quarter, I scan the minds of the
crowds trying to find the one. I snap my head around and focus on his thoughts
and I see the girl in his mind. So young and vibrant. Her dark skin glistening
under the neon lights.
“No!”
My mind screams for
release but I know I have to do this discreetly. I have waited patiently for
this one. Suddenly his thoughts shift and I can hear his plan. He will do to
her what has been done to me. So quickly I am near him and I can taste my
prey’s emotions in the air and I realize he is about to strike.
In an instant, I am in
front of him. Much too fast for human eyes, I see his confusion. He had not
spotted me in the club. He would have remembered me. I have not yet tasted his
fear. With a quick sultry smile and a hello. I know he will fall for it, they
all do.
“Who can resist me?” That
would be my ego talking. His thoughts are no longer on the girl and his focus
has shifted to me a beautiful and all too willing woman. I hear her thoughts
and realize she thought he was cute, and her disappointment when he leaves with
me. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is this night. Suddenly his mood has
shifted, but it is not the fear I was hoping for. It was the anticipation of
the game we will partake in. He sees me as his prey. He sees me as a win,
better than the girl. I whisper in his ear and he follows me down the lighted
streets and into darkened streets of the Red Light district. No decent person
will be caught dead out here, but I am not decent, now am I.
In the dark streets of
the alley, I kiss him, slowly tasting his life. I have to hold back the urge to
take his life right now. I enjoy playing with my food about as much as he does.
I know after tonight someone else will be there to take his place. For however
briefly the streets will be safe.
I turn to him and push him up
against a brick
Creole
styled building. He is lost in thought of how
lucky his night has been. As he is lost in thought I strike. I bite into his
soft warm neck. I taste his blood, so warm and delicious and it revives me. I
feel him relax beneath me as death slowly approaches. I suddenly feel anger but
I continue to feed. From a distance any passerby would think we are but two
lovers.
If the women of New Orleans only
knew what fate, I had saved them from? This man deserved worse than what I gave
him. He deserved to suffer for what he has done not only to me but to every
woman he has harmed. I just happen to be the lucky one if you could call it
that.
When I finish with my
prey I want to give in to the anger I suddenly feel. He did not fear me. It
felt as though he embraced death with open arms. Oh well. They can’t all be the
same. Slowly I lift him into my arms and run at great speed to the Mississippi
River and slowly place him in warm waters. In the morning he will be found and
he will be listed as another casualty of the Big Easy.
You would do well to
remember nothing good ever happens after midnight. I take one last look at him,
dark curly hair, baby faced, young, he could be handsome if he wasn’t what he
was. A danger to all women….
I |
AM SO EXCITED TO BE GOING TO NEW
ORLEANS, it is going to be a great time, hopefully. I know I am not twenty-one
any more, but I honestly don’t go to party. I’ll have a few drinks every now
and then, but not the way most people do. The ones who drink themselves into
oblivion in order to suffer from temporary amnesia and insanity. That has never
been me.
In reality I go to New Orleans for
the experience, the excitement of just being there is amazing. Every time I go
to New Orleans it is a different experience, you never know what to expect. My
mind is going a million miles an hour just like a child in the candy store. I
know what I want to do but oh so little time.
I hop in the car. I feel proud of
my car, a red, slick Camaro, and oh so fast. My husband gets in the passenger
side and I know with him in the car I will have to keep to the speed limit.
There is something about speeding that is amazing, exhilarating, my husband
tends to always play it safe. The fact that we are polar opposites is what
brought us to this point.
We left the children with my
parents for the weekend, this is supposed to be more of a rekindling get away.
I was surprised when my parents arrived at my house last night. Apparently my
parents and Axel schemed for this getaway. I am not complaining, just
surprised. It was a spontaneous idea.
My husband, Axel, and I
had been having some issues lately, only because we seemed to be going in
different directions. I want so much more from life than being a stay at home
soccer mom. I want adventure, excitement. I remember when we first met eleven
years ago. It felt like love at first sight if you can believe it. Axel was in
the military at the time. He was fit muscular and funny. At six foot he was an
imposing figure, that scared me. If he had not been the first one to crack a
joke, I would have been running for the hills without a backward glance.
Instead, his relaxing nature made me pause for a minute. He charmed the hell
out of me.
Later on, when the kids
came along, things began to change. We no longer went out anywhere, we no
longer had fun. Life was about working Monday thru Friday, and taking care of
the kids. Even when Axel is home he never wants to go out and have fun. Axel is
a homebody. When you have kids it is difficult to maintain the reason you fell
in love in the first place. You just forget what brought you together in the
beginning. I am stubborn and never give up and Axel is the same. I suppose this
is how we got to this point in our lives.
A few years ago, I
started to see my life slowly pass me by, and I began to question my purpose,
my existence. I was just a zombie going through the motions. No one ever asked
me how my day was. I needed grown up contact, which when you have children is
few and far in between, when your friends don’t have children. My life began to
feel bleak, this is what my life had become. Life had become about quickies,
laundry, and kids. I envied the Axel. I envied the fact that he could get ready
to leave, while I still had to get the kids ready before myself. I envied the
fact that he could sleep in and relax. Sometimes I wondered if we had rushed
into getting married and starting a family. But then I look at my kids and
wouldn’t want it any other way. I sacrifice for them to be happy.
I bring my thoughts back
down to earth and focus on driving. The four-hour drive is beyond beautiful. I
get a glimpse of the giant Pine trees and Spanish Moss; the view is scenic. I
am feeling ecstatic and nervous driving the I10 right at the never-ending
bridge. I lower the window to feel the air. The air is crisp and I can smell
the faint smell of rain. The road is a little wet. It must have rained early in
the day. I notice that the Louisiana sky still looked a bit on the gray side.
The clouds were low and heavy. It reminded me of the old saying by Syrus
rolling, like a rolling stone that gathers no moss. It tends to rain a lot
here, at times out of nowhere. It is part of the attraction and our decision to
move to Orange, Texas.
We had been in Orange for
about five years now. It was beautiful. When they say small town charm, they
mean small town charm. The population is about twenty thousand. I love the fact
that small town translates to safe town and everyone knows everyone one way or
another. You cannot go to the local Kroger’s without running into everyone you
know. Even if you don’t know them, the people are polite. This is a very close
knit community. We help each other out in times of need and no one goes
without. Also it is the last stop before leaving Texas.
I pulled my long
chocolate brown hair out of the elastic and let it whip in every which
direction. I reminded myself I needed a trim. My hair came down my lower back.
The humidity is high these days especially during the summer months. The high
humidity and long hair do not exactly mix. It’s beautiful though, I think to
myself. I have had long hair for as long as I could remember. I never fix it up
anymore the way I did in the past. Now it goes up in a ponytail. No use in
fighting a losing battle with the humidity.
We stop half way to New
Orleans at a local gas station. I don’t even bother with where we are exactly
on the map, other than I needed a bathroom break. Soon we are back on the road.
We talk about just random things, nothing that really keeps our attention for
long before we are quiet again. I turn the radio on just to keep the silence
away. I sing along with some of my favorites. Even though I don’t sing as great
as the famous signers, it’s not that bad. There have been a few times where
people have complemented my singing,
We finally arrived at the
Airport Hotel on the outside of New Orleans, right when you arrive in New
Orleans and I am ready to go. First things first, we have to check in, get
ready, catch the shuttle and
laissez les bons temps rouler
. I feel the
excitement building inside of me, just waiting for release. “You’re just like
the kids,” my husband tells me. After we are both ready we go downstairs to
catch the shuttle to Bourbon Street. I feel a little anxious without my
cellphone. I left it on the hotel dresser. Trust me when I say there a lot of
pickpockets on Bourbon Street. As we wait for the shuttle, I look around me and
it looks like we weren’t the only ones going to the French Quarter. At last,
the shuttle arrives, we are the last to get on. As I start to climb the steps
of the shuttle, I noticed it was full and standing room by the looks of it.
Axel and I looked at each other and shrugged. We finished climbing in and
grabbed a rail.
Although, I am not happy
with having to stand on the drive to the French Quarter, I am quite giddy on
the ride there. While standing I was able to look of the tinted windows of the
shuttle, this pacified me a bit. I noticed the closer we got to Bourbon Street,
the more people there were. It looked as though people were just appearing out
of nowhere. The crowd was getting thicker and harder for the driver to maneuver
through. Axel, turns to me and again reminds me that our time here is short and
we must spend it wisely. I guess he just wanted to talk to pass the time. I
asked Axel if we can go to the St. Louis Cemetery after lunch.
“Sure,” he tells me.
We get off the shuttle
at the corner of Bourbon and Ursuline. I look around me amazed, stunned into
silence by all that I see. I don’t know where to start. I notice the beautiful
Creole building, it was a dark green with red trim, and tall windows. I could
only imagine living in such a home. Most of Bourbon Street and the Rue Royal
are home to such architectural buildings. Many have been converted to
townhomes, bars, and mansions.
We walk down Bourbon
Street to see what restaurants are around. We went to several restaurants and
they were full some had lines going around the block. I was amazed just by
looking around me and was fascinated by all that I saw. We come upon a group of
street dancers, dancing to Queen’s I Want to Break Free, their moves so
complex, yet so fluid. I applause with crowd and gave them a tip when the
coffee tin came around. I silently wondered how they keep they bright white
pants so clean.
Further up the street I
see children tap dancing, a young disheveled girl playing Tchaikovsky’s Violin
Concerto. I noticed the girl’s dirty blond hair was not brushed it was wild, it
gave her character. She wore and old beaten brown coat and jeans. When she
looked up, her eyes were a beautiful hazel. Her face appeared to have seen
better times. Her face looked leathery with age, and I realized this was no
young girl. This was an extremely talented woman, with the troubles that a hard
life provides.
There were more street
dancers, and New Orleans’ very own Silver Man. He scared when I first noticed
him. He did not move and as I walked past him, I felt the gently pull of my
hair. I turned around and he was in a different position, with an expression
that was unbelievable to pass as innocent. I turned back in his direction and
placed a tip into his tip jar.
I am so lost and
enthralled with New Orleans. If you have never been to New Orleans, then let me
give you fair warning, by night fall, New Orleans is covered in filth and the
stench is awful. It smelled of cheap tobacco and stale alcohol. I could also
smell urine and vomit. I could see people too drunk to walk staggering through
the street. We walk around them for fear they may try something dreadful.
By early evening we had
the good luck to walk into to a quaint restaurant near the corner of Bourbon
Street and St. Louis. It was not very full, maybe because we ended up skipping
lunch to let the lunch rush pass. We sat at a booth with a large window, the
familiar Cajun decorations throughout the restaurant was amazing to me. The
waiter came to take our order. He was young, I would say maybe twenty-one. His
pimply face gave him away. He was nice enough. I ordered the red beans and
rice with a Dr. Pepper and Axel gets a famous Louisiana Po’boy and sweet tea.
As we sit there quietly talking I remember the day I first saw him and the
first day I knew I loved him. Eleven long years together and two children, of
course we hit that dry spell. Rather than throw it away we decided to fix what
is broken and salvage us. That is what this trip was about. Seeing him and
spending this time together brought it all back, I wonder if he felt it. After
our order arrived we ate in silence, savoring the delicious food. When we left
we held hands and I knew we would be okay.
We continued walking
around Bourbon Street and entered the various voodoo shops to look around. I get
my fortune told by a fortune teller at The Voodoo Lady shop on Bourbon Street.
She looks at me oddly, gives me my money back and states a great evil will
befall me as death stalks me. She ran us out of her shop with a true, deep down
fear in her voice. Two blocks down from The Voodoo Lady there is another Voodoo
Madame, with a booth set up on the side walk. I pay her the forty-dollar fee to
have my fortune read. She is a young white haired, light skinned black woman.
Her bosom nearly falling out of her bright pink peasant top. Her dark brown
eyes glaze over, and she looks at me with fear and pity. Slowly she tells me
“that which you seek, you will find, but a great price you will pay, for a
great evil awaits you.” Wow cryptic. As I get up slowly, I notice the woman was
not truly light skinned. She has patches of black skin on her hands and on the
back of her neck. Vitiligo, I thought to myself. I look at my husband and
naturally he is concerned. I shrug at him and tell him not to worry about it
because fortune telling is for entertainment purposes. He nods and we go on our
way.
At the corner of Bourbon
Street and Orleans we enter a store. We pay for The Ghost and Vampire Tours.
This is not get on an open bus and ride around town. This type of tour is just
paying for someone to walk you around the French Quarter telling you scary
stories about New Orleans. During the tour we walk around Bourbon Street and
the Rue Royal. We stop in front of a gorgeous period home. We are told it is
the La Laurie House. Chasity, our “tour guide” for all intents and purposes was
dressed like a vixen. She wore a short black leather skirt, with fishnet
stocking, pale make up except for her lips. Her lips were a blood red. She also
wore a white corset and a long black cape with red velvet on the inside. She
was certainly making her money. I noticed some of the men in our group could
not keep from drooling.
After the tour we
continue walking the streets of Bourbon and the Rue Royal. By this time Bourbon
Street is in full swing life mode. I enjoy the lights, the dancing. As we are
walking I tell my husband not to look down. “Ewe gross,” I hear him say. I turn
to look at him laughing as I say “didn’t I say don’t look down? In front of me
basically at eye level to myself, was a skinny young, black man wearing a red
thong and nothing else. I look at my watch and realize it’s barely ten in the
evening. Daylight has long since faded and the threat of another day slowly
approaches.
We went to Ashes on the
Bourbon and had a few drinks I took a turn on the electric chair and downed a
shot of Tequila. For the record, it is not really electric. I mean it does give
you a little bit of a shock, like the type you would get from a shocking pen.
Later we went to the Blackbeard’s Booty Bar. This is a regular bar, with
Karaoke. I loved this place, I was able to ride the mechanical bull. It was so
much fun. I remember getting thrown off the bull and getting back on it. It is
a good thing they have padding along the area surrounding the bull.
I loved this time we had
together. It was past midnight when we decided to go back out on the street and
catch the shuttle. We walked back to the corner of Bourbon Street and Ursuline,
back to the green house. I leaned against the house as we stood waiting for the
shuttle. I had to go to the bathroom and was unsure if I could wait until we
arrived at the hotel. I could tell it would be along ride back because the
streets were crowded and there were police barricades at the intersections.
This would make travel to and from the French Quarter tricky. Deciding I did
not want to wait, I told Axel I was going to run across the street and use the
bathroom. I never made it back to him.