Thursday, November 1, 2007

Garou

Recently, I met a man born on Halloween who intrigued me. He has sparkling green eyes which seem more light green when he is angry and a crystal green when his passions are flaring. Like other kindred, many movies, like Underworld, seeks to glorify these creatures. What creatures? Oh, let me give you other details.

We sat in my car outside of his house one night. The radio was quietly playing and the engine hummed. His window was cracked a little. Out of the blue, he asked did I hear that. Hear what, I thought? He could hear the sound of someone in his own kitchen running the water. He could hear someone exitting their house down the street. Hyper-sensitive hearing.

Sense of smell is alarming. I had purchased garlic shrimp and transported in my car. I saw him hours later. He stuck his head into the car and immediately pulled back. He told me I should air the car out. He doesn't like shrimp and mixed with the pungent garlic smell.

In a fit of rage against his inability to do something right, I watched him pound his fist against a concrete wall. I was frozen in fear. I thought for sure with the force with which he had hit the wall he'd be bleeding. No blood. Not a mark. The wall had a significant indent. How could this have been possible? I thought for sure days later he would have broken bones. Nothing. All I could remember were all those cheesy horror movies.

Contrary to popular belief... the moon doesn't make him a wild crazied animal. Something driven by his "true" nature. He was and is consistantly more affectionate. He cuddles like a dog who wants to snuggle with you on a couch. He is warm and sweet. Tender and nuturing.

A Garou is not wholely like Blood and Chocolate. I've never seen him turn. I never find clumps of fur in the backyard. His eyes do change, but not within in the realm of science and/or belief.
How did he get this way? How or was he "turned" or "made"? I asked him...

This is what he told me...

Vampyre Tales

Whether you read Anne Rice or simply subscribe to the belief that a half-breed like Blade could possibily be real, nature loves diversity. With all the recent discoveries of the bones of ancient children and men, why can't a breed such as a vampire exist?

How does one become a vampire? I have been told two tales. So sit back and listen to the tale of two youngsters who are what many don't understand.

The Born:
I often venture into Starbucks when I have to drive over Laurel Canyon. It's not just that it's convienent. I would like a strong black tea to wake me up and to warm my blood. This particular night, I noticed a young woman seated by the window. She was huddled up with her face buried into her laptop. The glow from the screen was eerie. Her eyes sparkled with a multitude of colours everytime she clicked to a different website.

Maybe it was really how she looked in the light. She was dead looking. Or should I say undead. You know that look. Too pale. Too distant. Not vacant. She looked like a young woman who was lost in our world. She was struggling to belong -- to fit into a realm which was not hers. My heart felt an instant attachment and attraction to her. Not sexually, but as a mother to a child or as a sibling. I wanted to find out what made her this way.

She noticed that I was staring. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. I smiled not at her more like to her. She was uneasy at first, then a smile slowly crept across her face. She knew that I recognized her. As I waited for my order, I glanced back at her, but she was gone. When I went to pick-up my order, she was standing next to me. I controlled my urge to jump sky-high. But I am sure the flushness which raced across my face gave my fear away.

She quietly introduced herself as Veronica. She made up some lame excuse that she saw the script in my hand and wanted to chat about it. I had some time to kill and did. The conversation meandered for sometime and over then next weeks we chatted via email and when I we could in person. She is kindred. She is born to the bloodline. She doesn't suffer from any "illness" or deformaty of blood. She is genetic. She is hypersensitive to light in general and sunlight. Any blue eyed person will tell you the sunglasses are a must.

Veronica doesn't really get tan. She burns and burns badly. Hence you'll be hard pressed to she her out at the beach. She has a keen sense of hearing. Okay, a scary sense. The littlest sniff or fart 500 yards away she can detect. She is strong. Makes it horrible to play raquetball against her. And quick, but that doesn't mean undefeatable. Speed and strength doesn't mean that you can't be beat. Remember a lion can be bested by an elephant. But what makes her different... What makes her not like most every other person....