THE TURQUOISE BEADS

Chapter 03: Tear My Heart

WARNING: I felt that I should include a warning for this chapter, and maybe for future chapters coming. For those of you who either oppose or are sickened by homosexual or bisexual references, I advise you not to read further. In this chapter it is but a reference, but it is a reference to the act of love between two males. Remember, I warned you so I should not receive a flame from someone who is appalled at the content of this story. Thank you for reading.

My lover's gone

His boots no longer by my door

He left at dawn

And as I slept I felt him go

- Dido "My Lover's Gone"

Robert took a deep breath, his handsome face pained with past memories. "Roxanne, you might not like everything that I'm about to tell you, but I'll tell you anyway since you have a right to know my past." He paused, shifting his hips so that they were right up against hers. She could feel his body shaking. Startling, her grasp on him tightened protectively and she stroked his hair to calm him. "When William found me, I was a terribly unhappy man. Clara and I had been having marriage problems since even before the wedding had taken place. Then we had Caleb and we patched up a few arguments for about a year for the sake of the baby. Needless to say, that didn't work.

"I had the habit to go out at night and drink my miseries away. I had a few friends down at the pub that I sometimes gambled with, but I mostly kept to myself, drinking until I was too drunk to stand up, let alone think. That's what I wanted: to escape from my problems to the point where I had no idea what problems even were.

"Then a man came up to me one night. I was on my third drink of the night and my vision had become hazy. The world seemed to spin around me as if I had just spun around in circles for an hour. It took me a minute to focus, but when I did I saw the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. He was a few inches shorter than I, though a few years older, and had silky smooth silvery blond hair. His skin was pale, though not pasty and his eyes were gray. No, not gray. They were silver, much like his hair. He sat next to me and struck up a conversation. I soon learned his name was William Jameson and that he had lived in London for only six months or so. I must have been slurring my words, for when I ordered another drink, he told the bartender not to give it to me, that he'd bring me home. Little did I know that I was going to his home, not my own.

"His home was a small, one-roomed place, tiny but cozy. He seemed so otherworldly. His motions were smooth and graceful - like that of a cat. Of course, that could have been the affects of the alcohol, but it seemed real to me. Taking advantage of my state of drunkenness, he lured me to his bed and we made love that night." Roxanne stared at him, never taking her eyes off of his face. He raised his eyes to meet hers, but pulled them away as soon as they connected.

"The next morning, I woke with a hangover of course, but with my arms around a strange man. As I jumped out of the bed, I soon realized that I was naked, and as the covers flew off him, that he was too. I was startled, but as he explained to me what had happened the night before, I softened and gave in to his advances, accepting his tender kisses eagerly.

"This happened several times over the course of three months. I suppose Clara thought that I was having an affair, and I suppose I was, just not in the way that she would have expected. It was a wonderful relationship, completely private. I soon came to love him dearly. But then he bared his soul to me one night and destroyed mine forever.

"After our lovemaking, he turned to me and began to speak. 'Robert,' he whispered, gazing at me seriously, 'Would you still love me if I was not all that I seemed?' I readily nodded, not quite certain as to what he was trying to tell me. He turned away and I could see his muscles tense up as if he were undergoing a painful change. Little did I know that he was. When he turned back to me, razor sharp fangs hung over his lips.

"I jumped back, terrified. But he spoke softly, telling me not to be frightened, that it was a beautiful thing to become a creature like that. For he was a vampire, and I was about to be his spawn. He reasoned that we could be eternal lovers, stalking our kill with hell-sent grace. I agreed, and his fangs slowly descended upon my neck, piercing the skin painfully. He drank me nearly bone dry. I was so faint. I began to collapse. He grabbed me with a superhuman strength and held me up while he cut a long, deep slice into his chest. Slowly, he brought my mouth to it and I began to drink. Immediately, my chest felt as if a searing knife had been stabbed into it, the pain was so intense. I almost cried out, but William held my head in place and I couldn't help but continue to drink. I hurt everywhere, my head, my chest, my stomach. As he finally let me go, I doubled over in pain and fainted."

Roxanne couldn't believe what had happened. "You… You're a vampire?" She stammered, her eyes wide with terror. "But that means you have to kill people and…" Her eyes suddenly widened even farther and she pushed him off of her. "Get away from me!" She jumped up and began running as fast as she could, away from him. She had to get away. If she didn't he'd kill her or turn her into an awful creature like him. She could hear him scramble up and begin to run after her.

"Roxanne! No, wait!" He cried, running as fast as he could. He had almost caught up with her and when he did, he grabbed her arm. She tried to hit him, to break free of his grasp, but it was no use, he was too strong. "Roxanne, listen to me. I'm not going to hurt you. I told you that I loved you. I never lie, Roxanne. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have told you about this. Roxanne, stop this!" Roxanne's eyes were welling tears and she was beginning to sob, but she still tried to push him away. He pinned her arms to her side and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her to the ground. "Roxanne, there's no need for this. I won't hurt you."

"No… You'll kill me," Roxanne protested weakly, still trying to push him away. Her strength was spent and she soon lay quiet in his arms. Her body was racked with violent sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. Robert wiped them away tenderly.

"No, I won't, it's alright, love. I knew that I probably shouldn't have told you, but I needed to be completely honest with you. Do you understand?" Roxanne nodded and relaxed her tense muscles. She still gazed at him warily, but at least she wasn't trying to hit him as before. "Love, do you want me to finish this tomorrow, or are you up to hearing the rest?"

"I can hear it," Roxanne whispered, hiding her face against his chest, still shivering. Her teeth began chattering, and Robert, noticing this, slipped off his heavy jacket and wrapped it around her tightly, cradling her in his arms.

"Roxanne, I hope you will never know the pain of your body changing into a horrible mutant beast. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before, white-hot and everywhere all over me. But once I woke up the night after, I felt different. I felt stronger, more fit, and hungry for blood. William and I stalked the night, finding lost-looking souls who probably would not be missed. We feasted off them. William liked to play cat and mouse with them sometimes, but I preferred not to make an art out of it and just to feed quickly. He often chided me about it, but I preferred to use my talent in other ways.

"It was the happiest point of my life up until then. William and I, we were a team. We were hardly ever apart and I believe that's what went wrong. All I know is that one evening I woke up and he was gone. He left no note, though he had taken a few precious possessions with him. Among the missing belongings was my personal journal, which I thought of as an odd item to take, but I shrugged it off then. I was devastated. I had been absolutely head over heals in love with him and to have him suddenly leave was incapacitating.

"For several decades and a century following, I became a recluse, only hunting when I was about to be driven man from hunger. It was a lonely life to live, but in that time I began to take up painting. I loved the way dark colors blended together and would paint scenes from my window during the night. I also enjoyed writing and bled all my pain out onto those pieces of paper. It was my life, my soul, my very existence, much like you are to me now, Roxanne.

"But then one night I decided to venture out into the night world with a real purpose, besides having to feed. And that was the night my life changed forever. On the streets that night I met a pretty, young prostitute named Adelaide O'Reilly. She was not beautiful, rather plain actually, but when she smiled she could pass as radiant. She was fifteen years old, still a child really, and her hair was red and frizzy and she had the prettiest green eyes I'd ever see, the exact color of yours. I brought her to my place that night and I paid her for her services, but I just couldn't forget about her. The next night I found her once more and took her to my room again. I was convinced that I was in love.

"Soon she stopped charging me for her services, willingly giving herself to me. I had hoped that she was falling in love with me, and I rejoiced upon hearing that it was true. The sweetest words to ever come out of her mouth were the three simplest words in the whole English language, the three most beautiful to ever exist. We were so madly, deeply in love that nothing else mattered.

"But then the night came where everything fell apart. She came to me that night, her eyes filled with tears, and whispered the cruelest words my ears have ever heard. She said, 'Robert, I cannot see you anymore.' I gasped. I was confused, startled. My heart began to pound rapidly, painfully. 'I'm sorry,' She continued, 'But I am with child.' I couldn't believe it. With child? I was incredulous. She looked so fragile and tender. I tried to take her into my arms, but she pushed me away violently. 'No!' She cried, her face screwing up as sobs began to rack her body. 'The child isn't yours.' I was devastated. How could she do this to me? I could feel the tears in my eyes and I began to cry. It was one of the few times I've cried in my whole life. I felt so sad, so distraught. My whole body shook with this new burden on my shoulders.

"And that's when I made a horrible mistake. You see, she still loved me deeply, and probably always would, but I hadn't yet told her my fearful secret. And it all spilled out of me, about Clara, about Caleb, and about William. The look on her face said everything. She thought I was a hideous creature, and a bisexual at that. I was a freak, someone that weren't even fit to be in the presence of a prostitute, the lowest life form on Earth at that point. She screamed at me, and tried to claw her way out of the room. She ran from me, much like you did, but I did not try to chase her. I could feel the love draining out of me as I watched her out my window.

"Now, while I no longer loved her, that didn't mean that I no longer cared about her, for I did. I was also curious as to how she would handle her child. I lurked around mostly, watching her from a distance. I sent her anonymous packages of money from time to time to help her support herself. It wasn't much, but it was enough, I suppose. She married a poor factory worker about five months into her pregnancy. She was a tiny, skinny little waif and hadn't yet begun to show much. When she had her child, they said that it had simply been born early and all suspicions ended.

"That child, Loreena, was a beautiful girl child, much more so than her mother had been. And she had an even more beautiful child, Clíona. Adelaide's granddaughter, Clíona, would grow up to become your beloved, mysterious grandmother."

Roxanne gasped. Her…grandmother? That's how he knew her? The situation kept getting more and more complicated and her ears began to ring.

Robert, sensing her confused, tightened his grip on her protectively and continued. "Roxanne, I loved your grandmother more than anyone else in the world. I loved her more than I loved William, and I loved her more than I loved Adelaide. She was the ideal woman, breathtakingly beautiful, with long silky red curls hanging down to her waist and beautiful green eyes, always bright and cheerful, and they were laughing even when her mouth wasn't. She was a lover of the arts, and I'd often draw pictures of her sitting in my flat during the bright day hours with the curtains drawn tightly. I even painted a picture of her, and it was my favorite out of everything that I'd ever painted. Clíona was a writer, a beautiful writer. She could weave words together like no one else could. I admired her from afar for several years, until the year she turned nineteen. I couldn't stand not knowing her any longer, and appeared to her one night as I appeared to you. At first she was frightened as you were, but then she began to accept me. She was not afraid when I told her my secret, though she was a little startled, but not afraid. She immediately accepted me.

"I loved her dearly, though not in the romantic sense. I knew that she wouldn't love me back because she was not attracted to men in any way, shape or form besides friendship. We would talk and write and paint together every night that we could, but the pressures of her life soon bore down upon her and she fell very, very sick. She nearly died, but somehow a miracle occurred and she was saved. But as soon as she was well enough to get back into the real world, a marriage was arranged between her and a middle-class boy, Nathan Corri, whose father employed her father. They married happily, somewhat. She liked him enough to tolerate his advances, and as she was his wife it was her duty to accept them, but she never quite liked him. She couldn't tell him about her sexual preference because it was still a socially unheard of occurrence. To have a homosexual in the family was the equivalent of having a military deserter, or a criminal in the family. She was married for about fifteen years before she was finally able to have a child. There was gossip about her being sterile, but that all changed when your mother, Lily was born. Your mother was a lot more like your grandfather than Clíona, in looks and spirit. She lacked the green eyes and vibrant red hair, replaced instead with limp blond hair and emotionless hazel eyes. She was a bad child from the start, always getting in trouble during school, never listening to what Clíona told her to do. I did not particularly like her, but kept an eye on her for Clíona's sake. She dropped out of high school about a month before she was supposed to graduate, and began living with a man twice her age. She had several children before she had you, all of them dying before their tenth birthdays. I remember thinking that she must have a new boyfriend every month. And then your father came into the picture. He was Japanese, soft-spoken and artistic, not at all your mother's type, but she still seemed to love him. Of course, their affair produced you, and though you look a lot like your father, I can see strong resemblances between you and Clíona.

"When you were but four months old, your father was killed in a fiery car crash that killed him instantly and painlessly. Lily was devastated. She began doing drugs and drinking and before long the boyfriends started coming again." Roxanne shivered. She could remember the boyfriends. One that stuck in her mind was her mother's longest relationship that she could remember. His name was Billy and he was a horrible pig of a man. "Roxanne, love, are you alright?" Robert asked her, concerned. "What happened, darling? Why are you afraid?"

Roxanne breathed in deeply. "One of my mother's boyfriends, you just made me remember him."

"Which one?"

"Billy," Roxanne told him, shivering again. "He was awful."

"What did he do to you, love? It's alright, Roxanne, you can tell me."

"I hated him from the start," Roxanne whispered, her eyes starting to tear up. "I was seven years old and was easily frightened then. He'd always touch me. He'd sneak into my room sometimes at night and make me beg and plead him not to rape me. Different sorts of fetishism. Sometimes he'd make me suck his…" Her voice trailed off. "What could I do? If I didn't do it, he'd probably kill me. Then one night I refused, and he threw me down on my bed and began ripping my pajamas off. He was about to pounce on me when I must have fainted. Everything went black and the next thing I knew, I was being taken away from my home and to a new home, which I liked a lot better than my old one."

"He didn't rape you, you know that, right?" Robert reached for her hand. "I remember that night vividly. I was watching him do this to you, but I felt so powerless. I didn't know if I could stop him or not. But when he pounced on you, I couldn't stand it any longer and I put an end to him before he could do anything more to hurt you." Robert's face was ashen gray. "That was the first time I'd ever killed anyone that I didn't feed off of. I didn't want his blood, for it was tainted with his filth. I broke his neck right then and he lay on the floor motionless. I tried to put your clothes back on you as much as I could, so that when you were found you wouldn't be naked for everyone to see.

"I began watching you more, especially when you were in your new home with the Li's. I wanted to make sure than they were treating you nicely, and I suppose they were. But you looked so lonely. I began leaving feathers on your windowsill to remind you that someone was watching over you. Sometimes I'd leave tiny turquoise beads along with the feathers. Clíona had loved turquoise so much, and I felt that you should too."

"I do," Roxanne nodded, gently touching the necklace encircling her throat. "Robert, thank you for telling me what happened to you. It must have been painful to remember everything like that."

Robert shrugged, pulling away from her. "Yes, I suppose. But I felt that you needed to know." He stared down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"Robert, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes, Roxanne. I'm quite fine." He paused, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Roxanne, now that you know that I-that I'm a vampire, do you still love me or are you afraid?"

Roxanne sighed and snuggled close to Robert, resting her head on his shoulder. "Robert, I am frightened. Most people would be. But fright does not dissolve love." Robert smiled, and lay down in the sand, wrapping his arms around her. They both smiled somewhat shyly at each other before dozing off to sleep on the cold ground with the wind howling around them. But they did not feel the cold, for with their arms wrapped around each other, nothing could penetrate their grasp, not even the bitter cold of the North Atlantic coast.