-3/16/22 Gahnsonne

Greetings all you beautiful people. Yeah, you know who you are. No, not you in the back, there. You're kinda weird but I welcome you , as well. And when I say beautiful I mean inside and out. I've met many people in my life of which society would probably not classify as beautiful but you know what(?) ... they were absolutely stunning. And by stunning I mean in character, in morals, in positivity, in many ways ... they were nothing shy of beautiful. So yes, greeting to all who are beauty.

Gear up kiddos. Today I have a little treat for you. Well, more of a peek. I'm gonna give you a tiny taste from one of the books I'm working on, my vampire story. This is ... Gahnsonne

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-INTRO-

After a millennium and a half of living … was it now time for me to die? The thoughts within my head were tormented, uncertain, and in desperate need of being answered. A mind filled with so very much history and knowledge of this world and I couldn’t begin to press upon a definite answer, one that I was convinced of, true and certain. How can the future be unwritten … if it was already lived?

I live in your world but you do not live in mine. In my world, there are truths and fiction. The truth of my kind loving the color and taste of a fine red wine, one that mimics the appearance of fresh blood, is indeed so. The belief that the sun’s rays burn our skin … fiction. Crucifixes, garlic, and holy water … all misconceptions. I invite the warmth of the sun to rain down on me. Crucifixes are simple a couple of crossed sticks without the imaginary powers attributed to them. Garlic enhances my veal and there’s nothing holy about water, aside from the way it cleanses last night’s victim from your skin, whether they were willing or not. I’ll boil my eggs in the priest’s finest liquid without fear. I have no desire to sleep in a closed wooden box when I can comfortably stretch out on my rather large cushioned platform of iniquities. A stake to the heart? No one who has ever suspected lived long enough to try it so I cannot say whether it would be lethal or not, any different from the average Joe. My reflection is beautiful. I detest the filthy little winged mammals and find no need to morph into one when I possess a better means of aerial travel when the need arises. Vampires are mostly Hollywood and folklore. I am neither. The first of my kind, rare and magnificent. My strength is enhanced, to say the very least, yes. And I do enjoy the hypnotic sensual effect I possess over others. It serves me quite well. Throughout history, I have been called the reflection of evil (ironically, when Hollywood portrays me as not having one), the taker of life, bloodsucker, Nosferatu, and at times, Dracula. There have been many names attributed to me over the past fourteen hundred and fifty-eight (and then some) years I have been branded. Anyone who opposes me dies. Those who willfully give themselves to me call me Paencha, “the giver of eternity.’ Those who fear me call me ‘damnation’. Those who revere me call me by my name … Gahnsonne.

-SAELOVA-

I could feel the sun’s rays warming me as I woke from my blissful sleep. The gentle morning breeze danced through the open French doors, past the white laced curtains, and found its way to the large lavish bed that held me. It brought with it the Italian fragrances of olive oils and roasted coffees. The smell of vanilla tickled my nose as did the powerful scent of fully blossomed lime trees gladly sharing their aroma with the land. I welcomed the warm giving breeze as my eyes struggled to open fully. I rose, stretched the night away, and found my way to the doorway that led to the opened balcony, all the while embracing the new day I had been blessed with. I have seen more than any man alive. Yet, I never grow uninterested in what each one would offer me. I can recall every single one and still feel the amazement of it as if I were living it today. One could argue that I love life yet have none but what do they know? I am as alive as the next, possibly even more. They cannot and will never fully understand just what I am or how much I absorb each granted moment of existence. Perhaps they should learn to live by my same standards, their having such a limited time on this earth.

I heard movement from behind me but didn’t turn around. A lover’s grin curved the corners of my smile when I thought of who had made the sound.

“Have you ever seen such a breathtaking morning, my dear Saelova? Magnificent in every way.”

I stared out across the vast beauty before me and pulled every single inch of what I saw into my inner being, allowing it and myself to melt into one existence. I was the vineyards and they were me. The heavy grapes that were moments away from falling from the vine, the stucco and stoned walls of buildings that lined the streets, the historical beauty, the colors, everything … it and I were one.

“And since when have they not been?” Saelova returned.

She was still buried beneath the Victorian style comforter as she spoke. Saelova is my half sanne, for she carries not my pure blood, having once been a feminine human, turned. She fills my every desire beyond measure. She willfully gave herself to me over six hundred years ago (yr. 1329) and still to this day I have yet to meet a more sexually charged person, yet a lady of elegance. Even still, after all this time, she challenges me beyond my wildest expectations while keeping my heart intact. Many have transitioned by my hand but none do compare to her level of aspiration and pure emotional companionship.

The night before was festive, indeed. Full of entertainment that would have enticed the damned and frightened the righteous. My Saelova, I see her as both in many ways. The world wouldn’t agree, though, but that’s of no concern to me. She is my morning star and my reflective moon of the evening.

She pulled back the bed’s covering, smiled and asked, “How is it that you treat each day as if it were your first and last? Where does such passion come from?”

“From within itself,” I replied. “If you see it as passion then it must be. And if it is passion then you must live it with all that you are. Anything less is a travesty. Why mock the very air that fills your lungs? The very sun that warms your skin? What reason does the blood within your veins flow? To simply carry your angst and worries from one corner of your body to another and back or to bring you fulfillment in all that is placed before you? Does your heart beat in step with regret or does it approve of the many opportunities the universe gives it and longs to reach out and grasp as many as it possibly can?”

She closed her eyes and soaked in my words as I stretched out both of my arms as wide as they would go before curling them inwards to hug my torso.

“I live to embrace life. That which is given to me and that which I give to others.”

I released the hug with palms facing upwards.

“Life is magnificent … vibrant … and real.”

I spun around and saw her raised and resting on both of her elbows, her eyes still closed, lost in the passion of my words. I sauntered to her side and knelt down beside the bed, touching her dainty arm.

"Feel it, my love. Let it move you. Let it be you.”

I moved my hand to her cheek and slowly slid my fingertips into her tantalizing ginger hairline.

“Let your mind search out every imaginable wonder that hides deep inside of you. See it. Take it, and bring it to the surface so it can become … not just a fantasy that you desire … a fantasy that is achievable. A fantasy you reach for, and grasp. A fantasy … you live. If it is in you then it can be you. This is what it means to be alive. I want to live. Don’t you want… to live?”

She opened her eyes and looked towards me with a cherub’s smile.

“You’ve been here for so very long and yet you never grow weary of life. Is there anything you fear?”

Her words pulled at a hidden string far beneath my surface that no one has ever heard. A cold, tarnished, almost dull piece of who I am. I heard its ever dreadful sound the moment she asked and my mind retreated to a faraway place. I felt my heart sigh, as it did many times before when I was tormented within my private thoughts.

“I do,” I said. “It is not time that I fear but the lack of.”

I closed my eyes and whispered within my thoughts, “The fear of it never being so.”

I could sense Saelova silently questioning my response and studying my demeanor, longing to be the light within my darkness that comforts me. But she could never fully be. Because she is an Epulantium, a mortal turned by blood. Someone as I, the purist of blood, could never enlighten her on the origins of my kind. I could never reveal to her where I began. The truth, I forbid myself to share with her. Half-bloods could only speculate on the times of olden. Their speculations would carry over to each generation of Epulantium that followed, only hallowed opinions with partial facts. They were mostly left with only their imaginations and best guesses. The outsiders shared only the rumors of myth and folklore between them until the ones who were unfortunate to know the semi-truth took it to the grave with them, unwillingly, or were turned. Even within the earliest turned, I held tight to the greatest secret of all. A page in a closed book that had never been read, yet. Words never spoken, yet. Things never seen, yet. Knowledge never known, save another from I. We knew the absolute truth about us, a burden to hide. Much easier for her who cannot speak from the grave. The burden rest with me now. Yes, there is something for me to fear and it is almost here.

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And that is that. A little taste. What think thee, people? Are you ready to be bitten by the mighty Gahnsonne? This story is set in 1952 Italy. Well, for the most part anyway. Gahnsonne has a real zest for life and a fascination with 'ruby red.' If he bites you , you'll end up in one of two ways, turned or drained. I can't wait to get this one out to the public (in its entirety). It has been so much fun writing about the 'original vampire, and the challenges he faces. Hopefully soon.

I hoped that wet your whistle just a little bit. If so, let me know. I totally dig feedback. I will see you back here in a week.

Until then, go bite something and whatever comes out of it ... use it to feed your brain. You owe it to yourself.

Angelo

Visit angelobain.com to view my previous blogs and to check out/get a copy of my newly published book, Caesar's Move.