The Prophecy
The Beginning

My name is Trinity.

It was said that my mother gave methat name because it would bring me luck. That good things would always come tome and that – in the end – I would have it all. When I heard that, I would justfreeze. But it wasn’t my parents who told me these things. They both diedshortly after I was born. No, it was a nun in a monastery that raised me beforeI was adopted.

Sister Rose (I called her Mother Rose)was a kind and thoughtful sister. She took the time to be with me when I hadproblems or when my heart was hurting. I used to think she shouldn’t have beena nun; there just were several things about her that didn’t add up. She had awild streak in her. Many times, I saw her outside of the monastery wearingstreet clothes. It was years before she knew that I knew she had blonde hair. Itwas long and wavy and beautiful.

There were days that I noticed thatshe looked weak and sick and she would leave the monastery looking frail, butcome back looking beautiful once again, like maybe she spent the whole time shewas gone eating and resting. But she would only be gone for a couple hours. Ialways thought she was out meeting a man and getting her fill before communion.

Regardless of how long she was gone, she wasalways there when I woke up and still there when I laid my head down to sleep,reading fairytale novels. Even though it was against the rules of the monasteryto read anything except what was holy. I guess she wanted me to experiencethings other than what God had to offer.

When I was old enough, she sat medown and told me about the horrible accident that took my parents life andlanded me in that monastery. Most of the time, I never wanted to listen,because really there was nothing I could do about it and every time I heard it,it was like a dream that I couldn’t wake up from. But she made sure that I waslistening and she struck me with a ruler if my attention trailed off.

Sister Rose told me that it was acold and rainy night when my parents were driving home from a business party.My dad had only a couple of glasses of wine and my mother, maybe just one. Theyleft after about midnight and were driving down Broadway Road when the street turned toan ‘S’ and their brakes suddenly went out. She said they took that turn tooquickly and the vehicle rolled I don’t remember how many times. She spared methe sickening details of what the coroner’s office said. But I got the pointjust the same.

She didn’t describe what my parentslooked like, even though I must have asked on a daily basis. Come on. Whatchild doesn’t want to know if they look like their mother or father? All shewould say was that I was a perfect mix of both. And that both my mother andfather were very important people and it was that importance that took theirlives.

See it was that statement thatwould always leave me feeling confused because how can importance kill myparents when it was brake failure? It made me think that maybe my parents werein the mob and they had a hit out on them, or maybe they were spies and theirtarget got to them first? I miss her. Mother Rose I mean. When I left themonastery, I never heard from her again. I always wondered whatever became ofher.

On all accounts I was raised well.I was adopted by a wealthy couple that had the bad luck of not being able toconceive naturally. I asked my mother once why she picked me and she smiled andsaid it wasn’t even a choice: that I ran up to them and never let go. They gaveme all the love and all the possessions I could ever want or ever need. We eventook trips every winter and summer break to new places every time. My parentswanted me to know the world, not just know about it from books.

But no matter how much I knew I wasloved, I always felt different, like I didn’t belong. Not from the lack of loveor the lack of attention and it wasn’t just being in a family I wasn’t borninto. It was being in this world that I felt that way. I felt like tumbleweedblowing in the breeze, not being noticed. I felt like I could have been blowingdown a freeway and cars wouldn’t even stop to help me.

I remember being at the park,staring at the adults and their children playing and having fun. I would noticewhat child looked like what parent and I’d understand that I didn’t have that:the same-shaped eyes or the same crooked smile. Their laughter would harmonizewith each other’s and painfully I knew that mine would never do that.

But besides all that, I guess youcould say that I was pretty lucky in the beginning of that life, just as mynatural mother had predicted. I still know people who have spent their wholelives in that monastery. They never found a family. But I did and very quicklytoo. And although I wasn’t anybody very important, as my parents were, butmaybe I was only important to those that I was once close too. I still had agood life then.

I became a wife to a wonderful andsuccessful man who took my breath away every moment he had, and the mother of avery smart and talented young girl who would surprise me at every turn. I hadmy daughter when I was just sixteen and not by accident. Believe it or not shewas planned and I got married when I was twenty-one. I loved my family and allthe things you do as a wife and mother.

I always said when I had kids Iwould never abandon them as I felt I was when I was a child. And maybe thatstatement is too harsh because maybe it wasn’t their fault I was alone but theywere taken from me. Even as an adult it still makes me mad. I always wanted tobe around to do things with my children. Maybe that’s why I started my familyat such a young age or maybe I just wanted to get out of my everyday routine ofgoing to school and working. Neither of those ever sat well with me. I enjoyedwaking up every morning in the arms of my husband and my daughter’s laughtercoming from the other room. I loved the PTA, the field trips, my husband’sbusiness parties, and getting together with our neighbors. And although itseemed stressful at times, I did love the hectic lifestyle that a loving wifeand mother endures.

In that life, I was very tall,about five nine, and though I wasn’t very skinny, I held my weight well. Afterhaving a child, it was hard to get my figure back and honestly, I had myhusband so I really didn’t care. I had long, brown, stringy hair, a nice tanfrom going to tanning beds and even from the years of no sleep I still lookedtoo young to be a wife and a mother. I think I was the youngest mother at mydaughter’s school.

My daughter was a reflection of myhusband’s younger years, which made me happy to look at her everyday. She wastall for her age and towered over the other kids in her class. She had longblonde thick hair, and beautiful big blue eyes. She was very talented ineverything she did. She loved to draw and she was very book smart. And myhusband Michael, it hurts me to this day to talk about him but I guess I havetoo, he was tall and muscular, with smoothblonde thick hair. He could be all business when he needed to be. Then whenhe was home, he would kick back and relaxed. He was a kind and giving person,he would give the shirt off his back if somebody needed it, which is probablyone of the reasons I loved him so much.

No matter how bad things got or howwonderful things were, he would bring me flowers. Even if the sky was grey thatday. It was his way of showing me that he was thinking of me every day. Hecouldn’t even go one hour without calling me from work to make sure things wereokay. And every year, on Bring Your Daughter To Work Day, Sierra was right nextto him. He never raised his voice at Sierra or me and we never went to bedangry. That was one of his firmest rules. A couple of times we stayed up untilthe sun rose, talking, because we were so angry at each other. But the rule wasthere for a reason and we abided by it.

I guess you could say we had theperfect life. I guess you could say we were even envied by our neighbors. And Iguess you could say I wouldn’t have wanted to change my life for anything inthe world.

When my life ended, I had justturned twenty-five.

It all started on a rainy night inFebruary in a small town outside of Phoenix, Arizona. Man, I hated living in Arizona; the summerswere so hot and dry. But it was my home. It rarely rained in Arizona so when it did, you could smell itand it would fill your house with its cologne. Those were the kind of days youwanted to sit in the corner, curled up with a book and a blanket and stay therefor hours just listening to the sound the drops made when they hit the ground.

On rainy days, I would sometimespull Sierra out of school and we would go play in the rain all day. We wouldcome up with different games to play and wait to see who would get soakedfirst, because that would be the one who would lose. But on this night, mydaughter had just eaten dinner and was upstairs watching a movie in her playroom. Michael was in bed with the stomach flu and asked me to get him a fewthings from the store. I told him that I’d leave Sierra with him when I went.She liked to stop in every aisle and ask me to buy the first thing she saw.

I didn’t mind doing things forMichael when he was sick. It made me feel good to know he could count on me andI could count on him. Besides, he was always going places for me and this wasalways a way for me to repay him. The store was only a couple minutes down theroad and I loved driving in the rain.

When I got to the marketplace, itwas unusually crowded for a Friday night. I had to fight my way through theaisles, each one loaded with about five carts back to back. But thank God I wasable to replace Michael’s medicine. And since I had to walk slowly down the aislesbecause of all the people there, I was even able to replace a coloring book forSierra. I knew it would be something she liked. It was of rainbows and unicornswith little fairies on every page.

When I got up to the self-service checkoutcounter, I stood in line impatiently waiting. Finally it was my turn and Iplaced my two things on the counter. As I scanned in my first item, I overhearda man asking the assistant if she had a discount card that he could use as heforgot his. She denied him of course. She even gave him a snotty look just toshow she could.

The man didn’t say another word about it. Iscanned in the coloring book, smiling as I thought how happy Sierra would bewhen I gave it to her. Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard the man’svoice. When I looked over my shoulder, I noticed there were two men instead ofthe one.

The man’s voice was deep andold-sounding. He was very short and heavy set, an older man with graying hair. Hehad no wrinkles under his eyes and in fact he had no wrinkles at all. He had amustache and long beard that reached his belly and it was also gray and wiry.But what I took more notice to was the color of his skin. He was white, almostporcelain. We lived in Arizona,where days are filled with almost nothing but sun. How could he be so white?

He looked like a man out of the 1920s.I found it hard not to laugh. I wanted to remind him what century we were in and that it was okay for older men todress accordingly. He had a gray top hat that looked like it could be the twinto Abraham Lincoln’s, a white button down shirt and black dress pants. Bothlooked freshly pressed. He wore a long black leather coat and black boots; Icould smell the leather even from where I was standing. I felt a chill go downmy spine when I saw him.

The other man – or maybe I shouldsay he was a boy considering he looked younger than I was but not by much,maybe in his early twenties – he was very tall, taller than me, maybe six footone or two. He looked thin, but it was hard to tell, judging from what he waswearing. His skin was also a shade whiter than normal, which, again, in Arizona was quite odd,considering three hundred and twenty days out of the year it is sunny there.

His top hat almost matched hisoutfit but it was black with a dark blue ribbon wrapped around the bottom witha Queen of Hearts playing card sticking out from it. The card wasn’t from anormal deck; the numbers where blue. He wore a black button down shirt with apair of blue jeans so clean you could still see the crease in them, a longblack leather jacket and black boots. There was something different about thisman, something that only a glance could give away. He wasn’t like hiscompanion; his eyes were kinder. I didn’t want to make it known that I wasstaring, so I quickly looked down.

I reached in my purse, grabbed mycard, and handed it to the older gentlemen. I was hoping he didn’t notice myhand shaking when I gave it to him. I felt fear in my heart when he looked atme. I couldn’t shake it off, but I went on with my business just the same. Ibagged my two items, took my receipt and left. The parking lot was slowlyemptying and it made me wonder how long I had been in there. The rain hadstopped, but the puddles remained, and you could smell the moisture in theclouds.

When I walked up to my truck, waterwas still dripping from the rain. I noticed the two men, walking to their car,which was parked right in front of mine, never taking their eyes off me. Islowly got inside and placed my bag on the passenger seat. They got into theircar, almost imitating my moves. The younger man was in the driver’s seat. Ittook me a couple of times to put the key into the starter because I wanted towatch what they were doing. They just sat there, not talking, not moving, andjust staring.

As the two men backed out of theparking space, they kept going in reverse. I don’t even think they lookedbehind them. I backed out and drove to the east exit. When I reached Main Street, I sawthem speed through the parking lot to comeup behind me. I should have realized then that something was wrong, but thiswas a small town and nothing bad really happened here. So why would I thinkthat a strange driver was anything but strange?

I think the worst thing that everhappened to us in the San Tan Valley happened about two months ago.The local High School football team wasarrested for hazing their rival high school team. The boys decided it was timeto get back at the others for spray painting their main locker room. So fortheir revenge, they got a dozen sheep to wear the team’s football jerseys, andthen let them loose to run around the entire school. On purpose, they left outone numbered jersey. By the next morning, the authorities had captured thesheep, but because there was a missing number, they spent the whole day lookingfor the one that seemed to be missing. They closed the school that day. It madeall the headlines and news broadcast stations and was a big laugh aroundtown.

But since we had a near zero crimerate in my town, I just figured I would be all right if I drove the whole threeminutes home. Maybe I should have been more on my game that night. Michaelalways told me to watch for anything strange. If I did see something, he saidto not go home but to call the police even for the stupidest things. When Ithink about it now, I wish I had just driven the opposite way home or just keptdriving until I ran out of gas. Then maybe none of this would have happened.But everybody thinks of those kinds of things after the fact.

You know what I’m talking about. Likewhen you’re in a heated argument and you think you have said everything you canand you thought that you’ve made your point very clear, so you walk away. Butthen, as you’re walking, your mind starts to wonder, and you think of all thethings that you could have said that would have been better or would have dugthe wound a little deeper in the other person. But now it’s too late. It’s thesame thing: shoulda, woulda, coulda…

When I got home everything seemednormal. Sierra was still watching TheLittle Mermaid. She was lying on her stomach, with one foot twisted aroundthe other, and Michael was still in bed. Poor thing. He looked like he wasdoing better, but I knew he was hurting inside and just needed the time tosleep. I gave him some medicine, kissed his forehead and closed the door behindme. I didn’t want to get whatever he had so I decided to just go sleep on thecouch.

I walked into the loft and toldSierra that it was time for bed. She didn’t argue, she rarely did. She just gotup, turned the TV off, and walked into her room. I tucked her in, kissed hergoodnight and went downstairs to lie on the couch, exhausted from my day. Itwas another moment I wish I could change: I wish I had stayed longer with her,maybe read her a book. I didn’t care the house needed to be cleaned or thedishes needed to be done. I just wanted to sleep my day away. I fell asleepquickly, a dreamless sleep. It was what I awoke to that I will never forget.

The first thing I heard was glasscrashing upstairs. I opened my eyes suddenly. I was a little disoriented frombeing pried from my sleep. I thought maybe Sierra broke something in her room.If she had a nightmare and she rolled over, she would sometimes knock the cupoff of her nightstand. So I would sometimes move it away from the edge. But shewould always move it closer again.

I didn’t think that noise wasanything to be scared of or panic over, so I got off the couch slowly. Thehouse was dark and I could hear the minutes clicking in the clock on the wall.I didn’t hear Sierra cleaning up the mess or Michael coming to investigate.Just silence.

I stumbled up the stairs slowly,holding on to the railing to keep my balance. I looked down at the stairs andstarted counting them as I climbed each one. But a sudden scream pierced myconsciousness. It was Sierra. That scream is the panic in a heartbeat that anyparent dreads. I started to run frantically to her bedroom. When I reached thetop step, the screams went silent and my heart, beating so fast, fell to the bottomof my stomach. Michael was already out of bed with the hall light on and a batin his hand. His hair was a mess from sleeping. He only wore his black pajamapants. “What’s going on Trinity?” He said nervously.

“I don’t know?” I mumbled under mybreath.

Together we ran into Sierra’sbedroom and saw her lying in bed. We looked at each other with dread in oureyes and then looked back to her. We walked to her side. I thought she wouldsit up when she heard our footsteps, but she didn’t move. I called out her namebut got nothing in return. As we got closer, we noticed her blonde hair wascovering her face. It was stained in deep red blood.

My hands shook and tears werealready running down my face. I bent down and pulled back her hair, and that’swhen I saw her neck. She was covered in blood. All of the skin on her neck wasgone. It looked like it was torn off by an animal. I started to scream. As bestI could, I picked her up and held her in my arms, demanding that she saysomething. I rocked her back and forth, cradling her like she was still a baby,but she wouldn’t wake up, she wouldn’t move. I don’t think the images of thosemoments will ever leave me.

With all the horror I waswitnessing, I tried to think what could have caused something so vicious,something so senseless, but my motionless daughter blocked any reasonablethoughts that might form in my mind. In an attempt to try and save Sierra, Iput my hand over her neck wound to try and stop the bleeding. But I couldn’tfeel a heart beat to save. The bleeding had stopped and all that was left washer in my arms. It’s a known fact that a child is supposed to out live theirparent. And who would want to kill such a beautiful and innocent child?

The lights in the room and in thehallway suddenly went out. Both Michael and I were frightened in the darkness,wondering what was going on. Michael was failing at trying not to show howscared he was. He came to me, grabbed my arm and tried to lead me out of theroom. His hands where cold and shaking worse than mine. I didn’t want to let goof my baby girl though. I yelled out no but he was firm and told me we had tohide.

When we reached the hallway westopped before continuing down the stairs. That’s when we saw shadows movingfrom side to side, slowly at first then faster and faster. I don’t know why,because every part in my body told me to go the other direction, but we startedwalking towards it, even though we couldn’t see anything clearly. I felt mybody start to tremble with terror and I held Michael’s arm tighter. We slowlywalked down the stairs. I still couldn’t see anything. I relied on Michael tosafely guide me, but I was still tumbling over my own feet.

Michael was shaking as bad as Iwas. You know, guys can sit there and tell you how strong they are and how hardthey can fight. Until they are in that situation. I always thought of Michaelas a lion, strong and fierce. Nobody could upset him, until that night. Thenight he saw his daughter lying there, not moving, not talking, feeling blindedby the unknown. He tried to be strong for me but you can’t fight what you can’tsee.

Suddenly we heard a man’s deepvoice break the silence. “We only want you.”

The words stopped both of us in ourtracks. It’s funny how the simplest words can make your life flash before youreyes. We both looked at each other, wondering which one of us he meant. Iwondered if Michael had wronged somebody and I knew that he was thinking thesame thing about me.

When we finally reached the bottomof the stairs, something struck Michael in the face with a hard blow and I sawthe shadow of his body fly across the room and hit the wall with a thud. Istood there trembling, holding onto the banister with everything I had insideof me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should run or not. Icouldn’t see anything or anybody. Then from deep within the room I heard themysterious man’s voice yet again.

“Awe, Trinity, it’s been a longtime,” he said almost sincerely.

I was surprised that even throughthe darkness I could see his eyes. They were glowing a light shade of blue. AsI tried to speak, my words came out weak and confused. “W-who are you? What do you want?”

“We want you,” he said again.

My tears were blinding me from whatlittle I could see, except his mysterious eyes, and my thoughts were only of mychild, the child I had just lost. I put my hand over my mouth to cover my criesand shook my head, No, not knowing if he could see me as clearly as I could seehis eyes.

“We’ve waited a long time to get toyou,” he said, with what seemed like laughter in his voice. “What has it been?Twenty-five years now?”

My world, which always seemed tostand still with peace, was now spinning and I was losing the ability tobreathe. My legs felt like boulders, too heavy to move but too strong to break.I then felt an arm wrap around my neck. It took me by surprise because now Iknew there were two men in the room with me, not just one like I had thought. Iwas wrenched in a powerful grip and the hold was more than I could bear. Hisarms felt like cold rocks against my neck. But with as little comfort as itgave me, at least I could see over the man’s arm. He led me closer to thevicious man who was talking. I put my hands on his arm to try and get it off mebut it felt like steel that I couldn’t move and it was cold to the touch.

“It would be easier if you didn’tfight this, my dear,” the man across the room said. He paused for a moment.“You’re a hard woman to replace, Trinity.”

I tried to fight back the flowing tears.I wanted to at least look like I was strong but it was hard to hide my fearbecause my legs were shaking. I looked over at my husband lying on the ground;his arms and legs were spread out. I was hoping he was just unconscious. Iprayed for him to wake up, to help me get out of this horrible mess. But withevery breath I took, and every tear that ran down my face, he wouldn’t move.

“Pleeeaasse! What do you want!?” I asked,my tears falling even faster.

The man walked slowly into whatlittle light there was and as his appearance became known, I recognized thelittle overweight man from the market who had asked me for my discount card. Helooked down at his hand, studying his white fingers. His nails were long andsharp. My heart started to beat faster as his figure slowly emerged from theshadows. I tried to think of ways to escape from the grip that held me sotight. But everything I tried proved to be useless.

As he got closer, I looked into hiseyes. They were cold and showed no emotion. When he smiled, his teeth werebright white and seemed to drip with saliva.It was sickening to watch him drool like he did.

“We want you, Trinity. You see wecan’t let you leave. Well not alive anyway.” He blurted out a laugh that seemedto carry throughout my house. “Oh I’m sorry. I’m such a bad host that I forgotto introduce myself. My name is Gerviase, and the one behind you is Alexander.”He pointed with his long finger.

Gerviase took his top hat off andbowed to me as if to intimidate me. “You see Trinity, you are a very importantwoman in our world.” Except for the fact that he was trying to kill me, I couldhave listened to him talk for hours. His voice was charming and when he spokehis words seemed to come from a different time. His accent was hypnotic.

“What are you talking about?” Iasked through my tears.

He spoke the words very low and tender.“The vampire world,” he said. My eyes widened. Was this a joke? He continued,his voice getting louder. “Didn’t think we existed, did you? Well I can assureyou. We do, my dear. You see Trinity, you have been talked about for centuries.Kind of like a bed time story for children.”

I wasconfused. Vampires? That couldn’t be true. Vampires were for horror and badromantic movies. How could he expect me to believe that he was a vampire? Trueor false, I didn’t care what his story was. I wanted them out of my house. AndI wanted to kill them for what they did to my daughter.

He moved closer to me slowly,gliding almost. There was a grace in the way he walked, the way his body moved.It was almost like a waltz. One arm was folded and the other hand was rubbinghis jaw. I saw the color of his cold eyes even more clearly. They were a lightshade of crystal blue, almost a dead shade of blue, and they seemed to glowwhen the moon hit them just right.

He kept talking. “Which makes mesorry to have to do this…”

It seemed like I blinked and thenhe was right in front of me. My heart seemed to stop and I braced my body forwhatever he was going to do. He tilted my head and whispered in my ear, “Thiswon’t hurt … much.” I was ready for it. Killme now, I thought to myself. I didn’t want to exist without my daughter. But make it quick, I thought. I didn’twant to feel any pain. I closed my eyes and waited for my walk to Heaven. Butbefore he could do what I could only imagine a vampire to do, I felt the coldlips of someone else, from someone behind me. I could feel icy cold teeth on myneck. Then I heard the strange sound it made when his teeth broke through myskin. It sounded like biting down on a potato chip.

I felt my blood draining frommy body and I started to shake. I feltlike I was losing control of my body and my senses. I couldn’t do anything butallow this man to confine me and continue to drink. The room began to spin, I couldn’tfeel my legs and I lost my thoughts. Everything started to blur and mysurroundings began to turn black. But before I lost all consciousness, suddenlyand without cause, he stopped and let me go. I fell to the ground with a hardthump, landing on my side. I put my hands to the ground and lifted my head up.Then I heard a loud crash from behind me. I tried to focus my eyes and after asecond or two I looked around and saw that Michael had woken up and come backto be my hero.

He had smashed a chair onGerviase’s back. The chair was broken to pieces at Gerviase’s feet, and thoughit didn’t faze him much, it still made him turn to see what was happening.Everything was still foggy to me. I wanted to jump to my feet and help myhusband, but the blood loss had left me cold and weak. Gerviase jumped to wheremy husband stood, and Alexander stepped over me to hold my husband’s arms back.

I heard Michael’s low and strainingvoice say. “Run, Trinity. RUN!” I didn’t want to run; I wanted to die with him.I wanted to stay by his side and walk the cloudy path to Heaven, holding hishand. How could he expect me to just run? As he grew weaker he muttered, “Ilove you.”

I was sure I was going to dieanyway, so I managed to do the one thing I would later regret. I got up,stumbling, and ran like my husband told me too. I ran as fast as I could. Ididn’t even look behind me to see what would happen to my Michael.

~ And that was the end of my humanlife ~