Hello there. Bless you.
From Helena the Clown. Finally I decided to share something on my own. It was about time. Some may know me from posts or articles posted by other people, especially by my friend Ruxandra. Who, in modern vampire fiction, is what they shall call, my familiar. And yes, I am a Vampire.
I am the only Vampire I know to live in Bucharest, the capital city of Romania. At least, in recent times, after I woke up from my 90 years of sleep in the grave, I have lost my previous connections, there may be others, the city is pretty large. This is a story of what I experienced a few nights ago. I shall not recap all Ruxandra shared about me in the last months, just mention some things, on the go, just in case someone has not read those.
Life for a Vampire is not easy, especially for one like me, in a present day city, like Bucharest. The city is my home, I lived most of my immortal life here. Yet, things are definitely not like in a movie. Even a Vampire movie. A Vampire still needs to live in the same world like Humans. And many perks of Human life are for us as well, like the need to work. I do not have much money left. I do not want to get you bored with my problems, alright, I get it, I shall go on with what I want to tell you. But, if any of you are generous, so that they may donate some blood to me, I would be really grateful…
I like walks at night. I can go out during the day, I do not burn in sunlight, but I prefer the night. Not just that my kind, naturally, prefers the night, but for practical reasons. Not only do I not look Human and can not pass a Human at close distance, but I also produce a strong fear reaction in Humans just by mere presence. So, instead of just sitting at home and spending time on the web, a walk is good for me. Isn’t it the same for Humans as well?
That night something happened. Something I never thought I shall experience, on this Earth, at least. It was a night that started kind of trivial, like previous nights of walking. I used to take much precaution before going out for a walk; I need to constantly be vigilant. Back in the 1930ies, when I went into hibernation, there were no surveillance cameras, far less cars. And less people at night. I know, I can, temporarily, on short distances, take out electrical circuits. I do it less than I did last year. Since I woke up from my slumber, I did it only close to home, where people knew about me and were afraid of me. On exit and on return. On the road, I avoid using my powers unless it is really necessary, in order to draw less attention.
The last nights were peaceful, no serious issues, few Humans around, I was letting my guard down. There were some from time to time, cars rarely, I got used to it. And, as at home, I let my thoughts drift away. Now, when I think of what was in the week before, there were some things that I have not paid much attention to. Like the electrical maintenance vans passing close to me on somewhat short intervals. I minded my own mind. And also, there were several occasions when it started to get louder. Yes, louder.
You see, this world of yours, filled with mobile devices, routers, phones or internet relays I sense a buzz. It is like feeling it, somewhat like hearing it, hard to express this in Human words. Sometimes it feels more like hearing it, sometimes more like feeling it, somewhere in between, or both. I hope it does make sense. I feel it pretty constantly. It was annoying at first, but I got used to it. Background noise. At home, I disabled the Wifi function in the router. I do not use any smartphone or tablet device, strictly on dumb phones and PC connected via ethernet.
Of course, there are fluctuations, depending on the location or the time. This is why I thought at first last week that there were only the fluctuations I knew already. I was somewhere to the north west of my neighborhood, Colentina, into Floreasca. The van passed and the buzz suddenly went a bit louder. A few minutes later, I heard like a swirl over my head, like something moved not very far up, and a slight uprise in buzz. And things like that have happened several times. I dismissed them, more or less, but I got a little suspicious, as it was weird.
That night, I wanted to get downtown, into the historical center. So, I went from the Maica Domnului street into the crossroad with Lizeanu and Reînvierii streets, where the old railway was, where the ghost train still passes into certain nights. An electricity maintenance van went from behind me, turned left in a rush on the left, towards the Reînvierii graveyard, on the tram tracks. A sudden increase in buzz was felt. I felt a little suspicious, but I went on. Lizeanu was clear, no people in sight. It was ok if some would see me from a distance, they shall think I am just a weirdo (Romania, the supposed homeland of vampires, has little goths, many Romanians do not even understand what a goth is, honestly. This is why I said weirdo.) Romanians are pretty conservatory in the sense of conformists. My belle epoque black dress sticks out in public, of course, even from a distance, but at least I hope I appear Human.
After remembering once again the old, traditional homes from Lizeanu, replaced now but construction material deposits or auto Services, I walked on. A man entered Lizeanu from the other part, I went on and, as he passed next to me, I looked him in the eye for a second with one of my gazes that rarely fails. Fear arose in him immediately and moved fast into the other sense.
After crossing the Ștefan cel Mare highway, which is quite large and flanked with communist-styled apartment blocks, into Viitorului street, as the area gets back to low buildings and narrow streets, another van came from behind me and turned left, into Făinari street. For a few seconds the buzz went strong, but it went back to background noise power as it moved away. I stopped for a second to think about it, then I continued walking, admiring what was left of a late XIXth century neighborhood. Some historical buildings are replaced by crappy things, some demolished, some renovated in a disgraceful way.
I remember thinking of other non-Human kins sharing this city back in the day. Especially the Elves. There were far more than Vampires in the city, yet still a few. Immortal, beautiful and deeply feared, they had left, more or less, their old dwellings in nature and their old lifestyle to live inside Human society, under their magical masks. I have had a pact, like a treaty with them, that meant that we basically kept out of each other’s business as much as we could.
They populated the Balkans and especially Romania; their ancient birthplace of their kin was in the Apuseni, in the Carpathian Mountains. They re-colonised their old homeland in the previous centuries, but their glory days were pretty much in the past and they tended to themselves. Of course, offending or making them angry would have been a very bad idea, especially for Humans. But most of them seem oblivious of their presence anyway. Indeed, many Humans have had some sort of Elven ancestorship, albeit faint, distant, and forgotten, mostly in this area of the world, the south-east of Europe.
Today, I still felt an Elven presence in the city, but a very different one from back in the day. I could not be sure I sensed any old, full-blooded Elves, but many, many Elves I called ”caterpillars”. Those Elves who were, in many aspects, still Human, some being born Human, some being born from other ”caterpillar” Elves, but they could become Full Elves in power and, stature, look, immortality etc if accepted by the Full Elves society and tended in a way Elves know and do no share with outsiders. Weak, feeble, Human-like, un-aware of their Elvishness, they were, nonetheless, real Elves, not Humans. I think you guessed it already, there are many, many caterpillar Elves around me now. Perhaps from the fact that the Keys of turning Humans with Elven ancestorship into Elves were found and published online and someone used them somehow? Sometimes, it felt that the Elven population around me could be up to 10% of the general population, but I’m not sure, probably it is an overestimation.
I walked and contemplated the fact this city seems to be turning into an Elvenland and, paradoxically, I can not find any conscious non-Human being to relate to, at least ones not to be hostile. I have found a Forest Girl in Băneasa, but their kind are far different in nature not just from Humans, but also from Elves or Vampires (that meaning that Humans, Elves and Vampires are more similar in nature with each other then with those beings), but she was pretty hostile on contact. As I gradually walked towards the Gemeni square, insidiously, the Buzz went, gradually, stronger. And a faint anxiety started to envelope me. Yeah, I brushed it away, being careful in my normal way around me, nothing more. Yeah, I know, so many times, when people do that, something bad happens. We know it. From so many stories. I knew it as well, I was careful, but I do not expect that to happen.
When I was close to Toamnei street, I had a sudden urge to look sideways, then up. Some whirr-like sounds were in the air, not continuous, not strong, but clearly present. And the buzz was getting stronger and a bit different. Like something was being changed, adapted. I turned left, into Ardeleni street, as I wanted to reach Calea Moșilor. Two teenage girls, speaking loudly, passed close to me. They went quiet as they got close to me, looked at me and moved at a fast pace. I smiled at them in a cheeky way, but they still got scared and went away. Probably this incident broke my attention from the weirdness it started to build up around me.
My plan was to get, that night, at Mântuleasa street, to check the place where the school of Mircea Eliade, the writer, stood, the one mentioned in his novella, ”The Old Man and the Bureaucrats”. Like other of his works, officially, fantastic literature, contains some real urban legends and facts from the 1920ies and 1930ies Bucharest. I am surprised he has not mentioned me at all, as I was one feared urban legend in my own right. I might have even met him once, on a street, at night, I am not sure. My mind was to check the old place of the school that was demolished in 2003, where he mentioned something in his novella, published in 1967. I had a thought in mind that there was something there someone wanted to destroy or keep secret.
I turned right on Episcopul Radu street, as I wanted to walk on small streets as much as possible, and not on large boulevards, with communist apartment blocks, for safety reasons. As I was close to the Mihai Eminescu street, I stumbled upon a group of young men, gangsta-like, having a beer in the open (Drinking alcohol on the street is forbidden in Romania.) speaking loud. They stopped talking and looked at me, from a distance at first, probably preparing to bully the weirdo into one way or the other. I walked casually beside them, as one of them started to say a vulgar joke, and showed them my cold, cheeky smile. As one of them, taller than the rest, took a step towards me, I stared at him with my white blank eyes and showed them through a smile, a bit of my fangs. Of course they stopped and moved away.
The segment of Calea Moșilor I was supposed to cross was turned in communist times into a large highway-like boulevard, with apartment blocks. A large intersection: there was a police car waiting. Sometimes, at night, I see this, I need to cross in a way not to attract their attention. They can not harm me too much, but any incident would, probably, get into some complications, I think you realize this. They were on a pretty distant part of the intersection, they paid little attention to me, but I had to walk on the boulevard itself, not on Traian street and went on a narrow street on the other side. This meant exposure to security cameras, for example, on a segment that was pretty large.
I knew there were some prostitutes around the area of Foișorul de Foc, exactly where the closest street I could switch to was. Regarding prostitutes, I am not fond at all with work. I consider this kind of activity as degrading not just for those who practice it, but also a source of degradation for women in general. But I do my best not to look down at them, especially since most of them end up doing this due to poverty or some serious drama in their life. Most of them are, actually, mothers who support their children like this. In the past, before my hibernation, I tried and even succeeded in talking to street prostitutes, I wanted to know their story, their misery. Probably this is not the moment to get into much details on that, but I can tell you I wanted to try it again, especially since my mindset and values are pretty different now. I thought they might want to talk to someone, perhaps I could show some compassion.
One teenage boy passed next to me. He was a little startled, but he did not react in a strong way to draw attention, I reached Zece Mese street pretty quietly. About this time, the Buzz started to change. The intensity was different, also the feel of it. There were also some fluctuations hard to describe, both in intensity and ”flavor”. I heard the whirr again above my head, as I saw some crows or ravens flying close to the 10th floor of the apartment blocks (usually the last floor of apartment blocks in Bucharest). That was one oddity, as it made little sense for them to be present at night, flying in that way they did and doing so silently. Inside my mind, I could feel something was wrong. I could not pinpoint what, though. I became a little vigilant on this, yet I lost the attention when I saw the first prostitute on the street.
Kind of late for them to be out now, as it was well past midnight. I tried to be as unscary as possible (Something very hard for me to achieve, I admit.) and went towards her. She turned her head to me, opened her eyes wide in fear. I tried to signal her something using my left arm but, as I got close to her, she screamed and started to run towards Foișorul de Foc. I could hear things like: ”Run! Run! Run! No time to explain! Run!” I heard other female voices, probably other prostitutes asking things like: ”What is it?” ”No time to explain, there is a dead woman coming towards here! Run away!” One of them refused to leave at first, but it seems she went along with the others.
As I turned right on Dimitrie Onciu street and I started to admire stylish houses, the Buzz went stronger than ever before. And it went stronger and stronger, until I started to sense something. Flying up in the air, pretty high above me. I would not have been the first time I felt the presence of demons above me. It was not an overwhelming presence, yet sensible.
Since it was after midnight, I ate a piece of antidoron (holy bread) and holy water and started to say the Jesus Prayer: ”Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”. Yep, I am a repentant Christian Vampire. Yes, we are possible. Yes, we are affected by the cross, holy water etc, but not that much that we should not benefit from them as well.
At that moment, it was starting to feel bizarre. On one side, a clear Elvish presence around me, that had its own sweetness, on that old street. On the other hand, a demonic presence was at work as well. I waited for a bit, went on, the demonic presence seemed to back off.
I knew too well that the spirit world is around us, that spirits, including evil spirits, demons, visible or invisible, of one type or the other, some stronger than others. Fortunately, we do not see them or sense them most of the time but, sometimes, they are allowed to be sensed and get power. They can only act as much as God allows them to. The least of demons can destroy the world, but they are not allowed by God. We need not to pay too much attention to them, because this gives them more power over us, unless it is necessary to do so. In other situations, we need to have a different attitude, to be conscious of their presence and, very often, we need to discern how and where of each.
My mistake at that moment was that I decided not to pay attention, especially since what was happening with the Buzz was nothing good for sure. On the other hand, even turning back towards home would probably not have avoided what was coming for me. I went on, into the Pache Protopopescu boulevard, admiring the old buildings and enjoying the discrete, yet visible, Elvish flavor of all. Wind was rustling into the trees, making the remains of autumn leaves fall to the ground. The Buzz seemed to get fainter, but it changed its manifestation. My thought was to go to Mântuleasa, at the place of the demolished school, then turn back home, but I wanted to at least see that place, before turning back.
Mircea Eliade suggested in his novella that in that basement of his school was a gateway towards something. An underworld or fairyland. Of course, we do not know how much was fiction and how much it was reality. Or how much of any. He seemed like the type of writer to combine them. I wanted to ”smell” the place a little. I had a hunch it was connected to the Elves.
As a cold autumn breeze rustled the trees, I felt refreshed and looked at the moon through the clouds, shining like a ghost from behind a thin sheet. I admired the moonlight, like I do it, most of the time I see it, for a moment of beauty hard to describe, when my nature felt like touching the ancientness of the Elvishness around me and getting in harmony with it. I also felt the connection with both my kind from distant lands. Since my Vampire bloodline comes from Britain, and the presence of Elvishness from the British Isles was felt, I felt like in a beautifully adorned crypt from Ireland, at night, at the edge of an Elven forest. A deep breath.
The church of the Greek community, with its ancient Greek temple outer architecture, was dark and imposing, and this made me feel even close to whole, since I was now Christian myself. A moment when the worlds met in harmony in one place, one time, in and around one person.
Probably then I stopped paying attention to the prayer, as it was for the best to be on my mind. I got lost in my mental dark and gentle bliss, as I turned left on Sfântul Ștefan street, then right on Dimitrie Racoviță. As a little irony, there was next to me, at one point the Lunei street, that meant the Moon street, basically. The Moon was above its own street, shining. This area was far less damaged in the last decades, most of the buildings being old, from small, neoclassical, French-like houses, others larger, two or three levels 1930ies small apartment blocks. A few cars passed by on Pache Protopescu, into Carol I boulevard, as the night progressed and the Human presence was fainter as hours passed. I think it was well past 1 am at this point.
Finally, I reached Mântuleasa street and turned left. One man, about 30 years old, on my left, got into his car, before going to Calea Moșilor. He gave me a short puzzled look, he was not too close. Yet, my presence and appearance probably intrigued him.
I think there were signs of what to come from this moment. Something inside my mind started to become heavy. Like when the wheels of a carriage (Probably I would better refer to the wheels of a car, in 2022.) start to work harder, like something is dragging them slower and heavier. Like a pebble getting stuck somewhere, or some trash. The Buzz was getting lower, and felt like going into the ground. And wavy. If this makes sense. The fluctuations I call waves felt, in a way, physically like some sort of waves. But also metaphorically. Sounds weird to you? It would have sounded weird to me as well, if someone would have said it to me before all this, I guess.
As I walked towards my target, waves became irregular. And the whole Buzz became less regular. On my left, a new apartment block ruined the landscape of old buildings. A green square, with some benches, next to it. The Mântuleasa church next. It is the oldest building on the street and the area. A traditional church, from bygone times, from times that felt mythical even to me. It was not open, of course, it would have dared to go in and take a little rest, perhaps. (Yeah, probably not, of course.)
Soon after, there is a house people say is haunted. I felt something about it, but not really bad. In the area there was darkness similar to the one that is part of me, that makes me what I am. Probably most Humans will fear it, if they felt it, but not me. As I stopped and looked at the house, something demonic, not too strong or daring was not very far, lurking. I wonder what they wanted of me. Only a short prayer and went on to my target. I lost the prayer from my consciousness as I was getting ready to reach the place.
You know, let me tell you something. At first, it will sound disconnected to all those things. Something about how I was turned from Human to what I am now. And beyond. Most of you can not imagine how it was. No way. An eight years old girl, broken, starved and terrified beyond belief. I knew it would come to me, that there was no escape and that I was powerless against all. I knew it would be an abomination. Something maybe worse than normal death. And let me tell you, when it came, it was far worse than my worst fears. As my blood came out of my body and that mix that contained Vampire blood entered it, my soul felt crushed,smothered. The light was extinguished and replaced by darkness, life by something cold and ruthless, innocence by some insatiable evil. Do you have any idea how it was? I do not think so. I don’t even know if I can express myself well enough.
I think you have no idea how it was afterwards, as I started my life as a monster. How this new evil nature felt to what was left of my Humanity buried deep inside. How hopeless it all felt. Mortals feared me, and rightfully so, as I preyed on them in the night. As I delighted in the fear, suffering and death. How it was when the monster was ecstatic and the leftover of the old me screamed in silent screams, that went fainter and fainter with each victim. How it felt when I met my Human parents, how they looked at me, and how I looked at them. Like my soul wanted to jump out into Hell just to escape the moment. No, of course you do not know. How could you? Not one percent of all. But enough of it, I am now free. I am myself again now. With the help of God all the evil in me shall be contained and defeated. Although I am still what I am, and there is no way back to Humanity. But why did I break the story for those things? So that I can tell one thing: What came moments later was, in a way, worse.
I need to state that I was not drunk. And I have taken any drugs of any kind. I was pretty ”natural”, so to say. You may say what you want, of course, that I was drunk, or high, or both, or that I lost my mind. What I hope is that you shall believe me.
From the Romulus street the Buzz started to bring some sort of wave. It came regularly. Like a fan moving at a steady pace. A giant fan of unknown nature, of something I could not discern if it was matter, vibration of just spiritual. My mind started to grow heavy, but I fought half unconsciously to dismiss it. The weight grew stronger at each moment, as I reached the place of the demolished school.
Nothing left above ground, except for a leftover of the old fence and the old gate. A new, utilitarian fence was behind it, making the place unreachable by foot. Vegetation has engulfed the place. How much of the foundations and of the basement were still there, I could not tell without going in. I looked for the gate of the new fence until I found it, covered in ivy. I grabbed the gate with my right hand and started to scrutinize the place. Elvishness? Present, but how shall I say it… Something strong, on one side, or maybe on others as well?
I do not remember exactly the first seconds of it. Precisely because it was something so inconceivable, that I refuse to acknowledge it for myself. I had a thought of breaking the lock from the gate and getting in. As I grabbed the lock, it was the moment where I could no longer deny it.
How shall I describe it? The mind became heavy. Very heavy. I looked at the lock in my hand and my mind could not handle it as a concept. Like the thought of it was harder and harder to grasp, like a fish covered in vaseline, becoming very slippery to hold in grasp. I find it more and more difficult to perceive the fact that I held the lock in my hand, like I was supposed to focus really hard just for that small something that would just come natural. Its mere perception was like a burden. Then, very fast, this feeling extended from the lock to the things around. Very, very fast it happened, like an escalation of something, yet still I could perceive it like an escalation. And from the thing around, to the situation. Like my perception turned from something I took for granted into something close to impossible, in a matter of seconds.
No, no hallucinations, nothing visual, hearing, smell etc . Not the sensations, the perceptions. Something was melting away, and fast. My mind, or reality itself. It felt like a destruction or, perhaps, a radical reconfiguration. Into what?
Like a tornado something was swirling around me. Like it wanted to destroy my mind, my consciousness fully. Or the world itself? The abyss was under me. And you know what? It felt like this new reality that was taking over was not just new, it wanted to replace the past as well, like what I perceived so far, my whole life, was an illusion and this new one was the real one, all the time. A new, dark reality. Dark not in the way I am a dark being, but like other kind of darkness.
Some will call this a panic attack. No, this was not a panic attack, although this was terrifying in an enormous way, in its radicalness, acting close to foundation, also in its ruthless engrossment of all dimensions and in targeting as much of any one of them as possible . Panic attack is an intense fear of something you may or not comprehend, but the fear is, let’s say, confined to being fearful. In this case, the intensity of fear was a consequence of the intensity of the rest. I did not understand, of course, what was going on but, on the other hand, it was more than visible the fear was derived, it was like the opposite of a panic attack. This kind of fear is like nothing I could ever conceive, nothing I ever remotely experienced.
I looked at a leaf from a small tree that grew on the inside of the former school, after it was demolished. That leaf, its mental perception started to fuse with something else, like the light from a house I saw behind the school yard. Like they were fusing together. And then, they started to fuse with the cables from the old railway from Lizeanu, close to home. And this is just one thing that I remember from all that. Only one, there were so many, as a part of my mind was getting tangled and turned into mush.
I managed to get my prayer rope from my purse and started to pray the Jesus Prayer as much as I could: ”Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner!” I grabbed my mind to His name and His icon in my imagination, although I find it really hard to keep in mind. I turned my back towards the school yard and, semiconsciously, bowed my head to Him and pleaded, desperately for help: ”Lord, You save me from the darkness, You have forgiven me, You have welcomed me to Your Church, You came in reality in Holy Communion is my body and being. You loved so much that You did all this. Do not let me go! Please, I do not love you, I am a sinner, I deserve what is happening to me, but your mercy has no bounds… Your mercy has no limits…”
You know, after I returned to faith, after I repented and decided to be myself again and to be good, not evil, I have received so many gifts, it was all so wonderful… I felt His work in the unworthy being I was, like a small piece of Heaven lived inside of me… Christ was with me, inside me… But now, I could not feel His presence. He was far away, I felt desolated, dry and alone. But I kept praying the Jesus Prayer, because I knew He is with us, if we call Him. I bowed my head down, like throwing myself at Him, in prosternation, begging Him. I held the hands of my soul into the tree of prayer, so that the storm shall not grab me.
It took about a minute, in this state, slowly, but surely, the storm diminished, until I could say it passed. I dared to look around. I breathed slowly, and continued to pray the Jesus Prayer and to hold the prayer rope. I bowed my head once again and thanked Him. I was out of the storm. Opened my eyes and looked around again, silently sobbing. My cognitive functions seemed to have been back in function, at least mostly. The leaf was a leaf, the bulb a bulb, the former cables from Lizeanu were back in the past and in another neighborhood. I could count, I listed all the letters in the Latin alphabet, then the ones in the Greek alphabet. that I have been studying lately. It seemed ok. I could make small calculations in my mind.
But this is not the same reality. Oh no. It felt unreal, like I am now in another world, another planet, another universe, another multiverse? A twisted, dark one. Physically, all was back to normal, nothing in my sensation to feel different. No one in sight, their presence of just a Human was hard to bear yet, they could throw me off track. I was vulnerable at this point, as my mind was still ravaged, like a wooden house that went through a tornado. Also, from the experience, there were like leftovers. You know, like when some people get a muscle cramp in their legs, it comes quickly, it escalates quickly, then it lets go slowly, leaving some discomfort zones in the muscle for hours.
The Buzz was around yet. I started to notice it again, although it has been there all the time. Even the fan sensation was still present. And, alongside the fans or as an extension to it, some sort of waves were coming from not very far and hit me. Not strong, but it felt like they came closer and closer. They felt like some sort of trumpet sound, a large one. And I could not say they were waves literally or metaphorically, they were like both or a continuum between literal or metaphorical. If it makes sense to you…
I wanted to get home. to my place. Where I could feel stable. And, most probably, safe. My familiar city was turned into some sort of strange alien place, where I was a very easy target. So, I decided to get through the Paleologu street back home, because it was smaller and I could avoid both the larger portion of Calea Moșilor and the intricate way I came on, although this would mean, on a short term, a sidestep in my road.
This was just the start. Even worse was to come.
Update, check Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 of my experience that night.