Prologue:
In the year 1273, within a remote forest outside Transylvania, a strange light appeared in the nighttime sky. No one was awake to see or hear the intermittent whirring sounds when suddenly the ground shook from an impact. A large part of the vessel embedded itself within the soft forest floor, smoldering until a hand from below and inside the craft appeared as if it were reaching out from the grave. Pulling themselves out of the wreckage the aliens scattered into the darkness of a strange new world.
Part One:
Chapter 1
♪ "Hot time, summer in the city..."
The effect of the heat showed in the commuter's faces as they made their way home. Rush-hour was always frantic, especially on Friday's. Irritability ran higher than normal as car-horns honked comically in syncopation with the sounds of a distant jackhammer. It sounded like the big city's version of the popular duet
Dueling Banjos.
Demetrius was born in Romania trying to make it here in the computer industry. Most of his family and relatives were still in Europe. He felt displaced and homesick, usually on the weekends. His computer job provided a challenge different than he got from chess. He was handsome and shy, recently turning twenty-three. His difficulty with the English language was perhaps understandable; leading to frequent misunderstandings with American women. His appearance was outstanding, unique in that he had dark curly hair and very pale-blue eyes. His hair and eyes were an unusual combination, fascinating and sometimes intimidating to others. As a child he was told his eyes were a mutation and it was what he told those who often stared at them.
No one would've guessed what was to happen to him on this night. A Friday much like all the others except this one would set him on a path of self-discovery unlike any other.
His apartment was nicer than he thought he could afford. Having it all to his self made it seem like a luxury. Fortunately there was no one to object to the ever-present chess set sitting on the card-table in one of the corners. Chess, astronomy and computer magazines were strewn here and there, many unread. In addition to his achievements in chess he loved classical music; it was probably due to his father's decision to expose him to it early on in life.
His mother disappeared mysteriously after his birth. When he asked his grandmother about her she'd mumble something, taking hold of the rosary hanging from her neck, kissing it while shaking her head. Getting information about his mother from his father was no easier. His questions only seemed to provoke anger, exposing a wound too deep and not yet healed. Out of respect he chose not to pry, allowing him to have the pain he apparently felt he was entitled to.
The only thing he had to remember his mother by was her picture sitting amidst the mess on one of the end-tables. She was beautiful, there was no denying it. Her sophisticated and distinguished appearance was accented by her flawless complexion. She looked like a countess with hair as black as coal, pulled tight in a bun on the top. A black-ribbon cameo graced her neck. The far away look in her eyes made her appear as though she existed in some other world, different than the one she sat posing in.
He relied on the different restaurants and delicatessens in the neighborhood for his meals. In the evenings if he didn't have an English class to attend he'd go to the park and play chess til dark. Sometimes he'd play 20 or more people at a time, spending a few minutes at each table before making a move and moving onto the next. He saw the potential threats in his opponent's moves which always make him chuckle. Since his English left much to be desired he used the universal language of body mannerisms and behavior in communicating his thoughts to others.
One night after a nap and getting cleaned up he made his way to
Nick's
for one of their corned beef sandwiches. They were topped with a delicious sauce, Swiss-cheese and sauerkraut. As he waited for a refill on his coffee he noticed a smile on a strangers face. She was sitting at one of the tables along the front windows. Something was missing but it never occurred to him what it was at the time. In fact it wouldn't dawn on him for some time what was missing -- her reflection.
He wasn't sure why but he decided then on going to Sangre Maria's, a local dance club. He liked being in a crowd and seeing others dance, especially the girls. And who knew, maybe he'd get lucky.
♪ Dance to the music...
She was older, thirty-something and stylish. Since so many eyes were on her he felt conspicuous when she looked right at him, acknowledging his presence in a crowd of many. She had very black hair. It was short on one side, shoulder length on the other. The longer side looked feathered, textured and layered with white-frosted ends curling up and out. On the short side there was one large white curl resting on her cheek, held in place some way.
She wore a black satin dress. It fit tightly caressing and accentuating her curves. He doubted she wore a bra since her large nipples caught his attention, poking out at him from across the room. She moved sensuously to the music while standing at the bar, looking at him until he felt a connection. On what level, he couldn't say. Eventually she made her way out onto the dance floor. He saw her in a series of snapshots made possible by the pulsing strobe-lights, dizzying him with their effect. He closed his eyes momentarily hoping to restore his ability to focus. When he opened them again he saw her gaze, still on him.
"She's probably out of my league," he thought turning away, taking another swallow of his vodka and tonic.
Normally this would've been the end of his interest but every time he turned away he found himself turning to look at her again, as others nearby were doing. When the music ended the crowd receded, making room for her as she seductively walked towards him. Her hips moved slowly as she approached him. The back-lighting from the flashing strobes enabled him to see through her dress at times. Glimpses of fleshy thighs within her dress made her more appealing. His mouth went dry. He was afraid to reach for his drink, fearing he'd spill it on himself before taking a sip.
Now standing beside him, he smelled her unique perfume. Beneath its scent there was a surprising sexual odor of perspiration and what could best be described as being wild. Her presence and proximity was unlike anything he ever felt. She placed her left arm on the back of his stool, moving her right hand to his inner thigh, gently squeezing.
