Down through the dark ages of time I have come, the embodiment of Jung's collective memory. Freed long ago of mortal constraints, I have impassively watched civilizations rise and fall.
Alexander, Caesar, Cleopatra. Dusty names applied to almost mythical figures, yet to me, living memories.
The glory that was Rome, mighty Carthage, mysterious Byzantium, Moorish Spain - not pictures of ruins, but memories of streets I once trod; imperfect memories, but memories nonetheless, all the more ethereal as night crowds upon night.
Comedy, tragedy, exultant highs and black, depthless lows. Memories of friends long dead and enemies hoped to be so.
Within my hidden vault rest my favorite things. A dress given to me by the German Princess, long before she became Catherine the Great; a necklace of gold and precious stones, the real legacy of Helen of Troy; a treasury of relics, worth more than modern man could ever compute. But most priceless to me, a simple rawhide necklace with a crude stone carving of a long forgotten fertility goddess - all that I wore on the night of my taking.
She came to me first in dreams, fleeting images of a strange woman with red hair and pale skin. I took her to be a goddess or a demon, having never seen a white person before or even heard of one. As the nights wore on, the dreams came more often and were longer. She spoke to me, of life eternal and of power beyond even that I possessed as a shaman of my people.
One night no dream came and I felt compelled by a force stronger than my will to go to a clearing in the dense jungle. She met me there and defeated my spells and wards with a dismissive wave of her hand. With pain and pleasure she broke me to her will; pain, pleasure and hunger. She released me upon my own family and I slew many in my hungered berserker's rage.
North she took me, traveling by night, with only the stars to guide us. We crossed the mighty dessert sleeping beneath the shifting sands each day, until finally we arrived on the shores of an aquamarine sea. From mistress and slave, to friends, then lovers, time carried us.
Powerful was my sire, but not invulnerable. In the heat of the day, reavers from the sea fell upon our villa. They slew or carried away the servants. My totem spirit warned me and I rose before they entered our sleeping chamber.
Roused in the middle of the day, my sire was weak. We fought them and slew them until the mosaic on our floor was covered in their blood. Even weakened, we might have won, had not a tribesman scored a lucky shot with his atlatl the wooden shaft piercing my sire's heart.
I could do nothing to save her as the frenzied men hacked her body to pieces. Alone and outnumbered, I called upon the spirits of the earth. The ground shook and a great chasm opened, scattering the delicate mosaic into tiny bits. With the earth exposed, I sank into it, making good my escape.
When night fell I rose and followed them to their camp where I wreaked a bloody vengeance, but all of their deaths could not bring back my lover and the empty feeling would not leave me.
Since then I have taken many lovers and sired childer of my own. The last of my gifted lovers perished in Lisbon, when the seas rose up and destroyed that city. The last of my children died in Dresden with her lover, when fire consumed that city. I had long since traveled to the new world, but I felt her passing and grieved.
I had thought I was old beyond the call, but tonight, I shall take a new lover and make yet another child. A companion to travel with me through the long lonely nights ahead as this world edges towards its own destruction. Long have I groomed this one, watching her from afar and protecting her as I once loved and protected her mother.
My footman calls. The sun is finally down and I may leave this place of safety. Into the warm embrace of the velvety night.
***
Erin started when her roommate Vanessa burst into the room.
"We're in!" she exulted, holding up two tickets.
"No shit?" Erin responded, feeling her excitement rise.
"Told ya I had connections," the dark haired girl said with a smug smile.
"Never doubted that," Erin said, rolling her eyes.
They both started laughing as neither could keep a straight face. When they had both gotten control, Vanessa passed her the two laminated tickets.
"Really, how'd you manage to get these?"
"I told Bo Chatman I'd blow him if he scored tickets to Bishop's Halloween Bash."
Erin shook her head. She loved her roommate to death, but sometimes the way Vanessa was willing to use sex to get what she wanted was troubling. She always tried to convince herself it was just her Midwestern upbringing, but that never seemed to work. Erin wasn't being judgmental, she just felt like sex should mean something.
Vanessa was more than a little boy crazy, she was a fucking machine. Given her druthers, she would skip on dinner and a movie and just stay in with her date and fuck like bunnies. She was the antithesis of Erin's compartmentalized and well ordered life style. Vanessa seemed to revel in her lack of self control. Erin knew that, to her mind it wasn't a lack of self-control, but an exercise in freedom to do as she chose. Suggesting otherwise would earn you a long lecture about gender stereotypes and puritanical societal pressure to conform.
Erin sometimes envied Vanessa for that attitude, but only sometimes. She usually found it to be disconcertingly random and she detested situations where she didn't have recourse to rational thought as a guide. Her father, a brilliant researcher, had impressed upon all three of his children the virtue of order, rationality and application of a finely tuned intellect to all of life's problems. Of course her father was already married and Erin had found most of the men she had dated to prefer a girl like Vanessa to a girl like herself. Word around campus was that she didn't put out. Not that she minded, thus far very college guy she had met seemed uninteresting and immature.
"You've got that look again," Vanessa said.
"What look?"
"The one where I wonder just how far away from here your mind has wandered."
"Sorry," Erin said with a sheepish smile.
"Now remember our agreement. I got the tickets, you promised to loosen up and not be such a tightass," she said seriously.
"Do I really seem like a tightass?"
"You don't just seem, you are!"
"Van..." she started.
"Don't Van me. It takes a letter from God to get you out of the dorm room half the time. You don't date, you don't drink, you don't smoke, and you don't wear sexy clothes. If I didn't know bout your vibrator I'd swear you don't like sex either. Life isn't made to think about, it's made to enjoy!" she said stridently.
Erin looked down and Vanessa's voice softened.
"Just try to have fun tonight, Okay?"
"I will."
"Good, did you get your costume yet?"
"Yeah, I picked up yours too while I was out."
"Great!"
There were two bags hanging on the back of the door. Vanessa had no trouble telling which one was hers. At five foot six, she was a full six inches shorter than her roommate. She took hers down and tore into it. Ohhing and ahhing as she pulled out the various accoutrements.
"This is going to be perfect!" she exclaimed, holding up the red satin cape.
"Only you," Erin said as she retrieved her costume.
"First prize is a thousand bucks."
"Yeah, well, half the city is going to be trying to get in. And those who do have a lot more to shell out for costumes than we do."
"So?"
"Nothing," Erin said, remembering her promise not to be a kill joy.
***
Bishop's was the "in" club. Its meteoric rise from empty warehouse on the edge of the meat packing district to "must be seen at" hotspot was still the subject of much conjecture. Most attributed it to the influence of the mysterious owner, who seemed to have a knack for getting celebrities to stop in on their club hopping junkets. Others maintained the regular appearance of mobsters, purported drug kingpins and other less than savory characters fueled the frenzy of rebellious party going teens to be seen there.
Whatever the draw, the lines were already down the block and around the side when Erin and Vanessa arrived. They walked past a collection of costumed hopefuls that would have shamed a Hollywood prop department. Ghosts and ghouls, witches, black cats, monsters of every description, aliens, trekkies, fantasy warriors and princesses, mad scientists, hookers, Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Minnie Pearl, the variety was incredible.
Erin noticed most of the women wore revealing costumes, even the witches and other standby's showed daring amounts of cleavage or leg. She understood the reasoning; you had a better chance of getting in if the bouncers at the front door liked your costume. Even so, very few wore as little as Vanessa.
She had bleached her hair and eyebrows to an almost white blonde, held back with a black hairband. The skin tight, white lycra half shirt with a huge red S emblazoned on it struggled to contain her big breasts. There was absolutely no question she was braless. She wore a blue mini skirt that just barely covered her ass and when she was walking, you could tell her thong was red. She had a big red cape and red, knee high boots with spike heels. She also wore white opera gloves, pushed down to her wrists. It was as sexy an adaptation of Supergirl as Erin had ever seen.
Her own costume had been inspired by her love of musicals. She had chosen a red velvet dress, off the shoulder and trimmed in black lace. Under it, she had on several frilled petticoats in pink, white and baby blue. These would only be visible when she lifted the hem of the skirt. She had on stay-ups under that, in black with lines of darker material running vertically through them and spiked heels. She wore a black choker with a cameo, black bracelets with faux gemstones and a tiara-like headdress made of feathers.
They passed the main entrance and were stopped at the VIP entrance by a huge man in black.
"Tickets?" he demanded.
Vanessa passed them to him and he examined them.
"Sorry girls, but these are counterfeits. You'll have to get in line like everyone else."
"You've gotta be joking?" Vanessa whined.
"Nope. Don't feel too bad though, we've turned away at least a hundred others. I hope you didn't pay too much for them."
Vanessa was about to make a scene, Erin could see it building. She grabbed her smaller friend's arm and started to pull. The bouncer was watching them when a phone rang behind the little podium next to him. He picked it up as Vanessa pulled away from Erin's grip.
"Don't make a scene!" Erin whispered.
"Fuck that, we'll never get in if we have to wait on line. I'm gonna fuck Bo up when we get back to the campus, but we are getting in, come on!"
Erin groaned inwardly, but there was no use in trying to stop her, that would just lead to a scene before Vanessa made one with the bouncer. They approached the bouncer again as he nodded and hung up. Before Vanessa could even start in on him he unclipped the velvet safety barrier across the entrance.
"You girls are in luck. That was the owner. She said to honor any counterfeits we get. So have fun."
"Hell yes!" Van said triumphantly as the both entered through the blacked out glass doors.
The inside was dark, but the dance floor was brightly lit with strobes, lights and multicolored spots. Cobwebs and bats and ghosts decorated the thick pillars that held up a roof lost in shadow. People milled around, some moving towards the dance floor, some towards one of the four bars and others towards the darkened corners and recesses where candle lit tables were placed. The noise level was just shy of unbearable; a constant blare of techno dance remixes with throbbing base lines.
"What do you want?" Van shouted in her ear.
