September 9th, 1945
The curious case of a young girl
born with a third eye draws to a close today.
We are traversing the sands of Egypt
and I must say that I rather enjoy the desert.
It suits a vampire oddly better than ordinary living arrangements. Considering that he tends to sleep during the
day and be active at night, a caravan in the desert does us just fine. I suspect that these individuals are not
entirely human, as they also enjoy sleeping in tents during the hottest hours
and then traversing just after sundown.
We move about until the nights turn
bitter and then set-up camp to sit by firelight. Just before the sun peeks out we move again
and then bed down just before the rays become too hot for certain people to
stand. We also carry lots of umbrellas
and protective clothing.
But I’ve gone off on a tangent. I could scribble for hours about the shapes
of sand dunes, the beautiful skies at night, and all the creatures I have
encountered.
I started this entry to finish up about the girl and the
murders. As I had journaled before,
Cyrus was contracted to look-into some murders at a small village. A man claimed that a child had been born with
a third eye, and ever since, their village had been cursed. Everyone blamed the child for a string of
brutal and inhuman murders that had befallen as of late.
My vampire companion took the story incredibly serious. However, he never seemed too upset or
astonished at the prospect of a child with a third eye. We did search for the child and we did in
fact find such a creature in the desert. However, much to my surprise, when we
caught up to what I thought an inhuman fiend attacking villages; Cyrus began to
commune with the girl, instead of bringing her harm.
I suppose it is true what they say; never judge a book by
its cover.
I am continually humbled by my traveling companion. I watched him sit with the girl, extend his
hand as one might to a wounded animal and draw close a scared child. He held her and rocked her, telling her that
it was going to be all right and that he understood her plight. I, of course, was entirely in the dark.
Sitting at a camp fire with a leg of roasting goat, Cyrus
explained that the third eye is a sign of a curse. Such a curse was not placed upon the girl for
any wrong doing she might have done, but it was because of her father. Likely her father was one of the men that
hired us to kill the girl in order to cover his tracks. As for the murders, my vampire had a theory
for that and it was so gruesome I could scarcely believe it to be true.
Despite not believing the child’s mother to be a walking
undead corpse creature feeding upon the flesh of the living, Cyrus was correct again. The entire case was mind-boggling. I sit here with a bottle at my right
hand. I am not bothering with a glass,
but sipping straight. It will take years
to get the images out of my mind.
When all was said and done, a woman with a third eye just
like the child’s appeared out of the darkness.
She extended a hand to the girl, but before the two disappeared into the
night, the girl asked a favor of my Cyrus.
She told him that she had not been given a name when she was born. She asked him to name her, so that she might
carry something special with her from the man who saved her life. I was dumbstruck and he seemed equally awe
inspired by her request.
After a few moments, he lowered to his knees and proclaimed
the girl ‘Kaya.’ It was a beautiful name
and the smile that appeared on her face warmed my heart. We said our goodbyes to ‘Kaya’ and I could
not help but inquire as to why he chose the name.
He shuffled from one foot to another before explaining that
if he ever had children; he would name them ‘Kai’ for a boy and ‘Kaya’ for a
girl, after his vampire father. I was
surprised. He has never spoken much
about his vampire kindred. His voice
held an air of reverence as he spoke of his father ‘Khaba Kayan’ who apparently
lives somewhere south amongst the desert sands.
As I stared at him amongst the twinkling stars of the desert,
warmth filled my heart to the brim. I
felt as if my insides might burst. I am
afraid that I am slowly coming to the realization that it is not just my body
that desires this man, but other parts of me as well. I fear that I am truly falling madly and
deeply in love with him.
Life is cruel, Journal.
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