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    Beyond Realities
    Beyond Realities
    Beyond Realities
    Ebook109 pages1 hour

    Beyond Realities

    By Lisa Williamson

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Ever dreamed of places beyond your everyday life? Heard something that both intriqued you and made you wonder? These tales are filled with magic, wonder and take place just left of our reality.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLisa Williamson
    Release dateMay 2, 2016
    ISBN9781533751652
    Beyond Realities
    Author

    Lisa Williamson

    Writer of fiction in the fields of fantasy, science fiction, horror, poetry and even erotica

    Read more from Lisa Williamson

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      Book preview

      Beyond Realities - Lisa Williamson

      ​​

      NIGHT AND DAY© 2012

      Inspired by a filk song, this was one of the first attempts I made at writing both in first person and a male protagonist. Having a very tired being trying to explain to his captors that they have to wrong man was freeing. We, as humans, have expectations of the world around us and when they do not exactly match what we have preconceived, we don’t take it well. This story first found print in the collection Outside Reality – Inside of Dreams. I have edited it to a much cleaner copy.

      Mortality bores me. It is a gift of the gods, a gift given the humans. I, who look just like one of them, do not suffer it. I pass among the cattle, unnoticed. Their animal eyes don't see me. In the past there were those who saw me, feared me and loved me. Now they only see their machines, their science. The world has grown smaller for them. There is nothing they can't see with their tools. Nothing, but me

      Once, I cared. I tried to help the mortals. Tried to ease their pain and care for the lost. They turned on me. How could you help someone so different, they demanded? How could you care? Slowly the friends became enemies and the pleas became demands. You live so long, show us how! Give it to us! Make us live forever

      I tried to explain, tell them that being immortal wasn't for them. They wouldn't listen. Then one day the trap. Sending her, the sweet one, so innocent, I thought. She knew what they planned. Knew what she led me to. And I, the fool, followed her, thinking that she was true. Thinking that she would never betray me; how much a fool I was.

      It was a cold day when she brought me into this hell, to this cell that they have trapped me in for the past six hours. Thinking that I am what I am not. They have bled me, trying to gain my powers, my unending life. I could tell them that they are wrong, but I won't. My blood is not the source of my powers. I am not what they think I am.

      Somehow in the past two hundred years rumors about me had sprung up. Tales of me being a dweller in the night, a drinker of blood, a seducer of innocent girls, but that was not me. I am much different from the legend. Somehow they mixed up the true me with my enemy.

      Yes, there is a being to match their legends, though he is much stronger than the legends give him credit for. He is not so easily destroyed. And he is still walking free, still wreaking his will upon the masses. But these mortals do not believe that. No, they believe I am the blood drinker, that I am the Vampire. Little do they know what they truly hold inside their cell. If I were my brother I would be gone from this cell. My captors would be shells left behind, their blood the price of their desire, but I am not my brother and he is not me; for he lives in the night and I the day. He lives on their fear, their lust and their deaths. I, on the other hand live in the day, in the light. Where the blood is the source of my brother's power, the light is mine.

      Once the night descends I am undone. I go to rest and he rises from his sleep. It has been such since the beginnings of life on this sad world.

      Oh, don't you think that I drop into some somber slumber when the sun drops beneath the horizon or that he will burn up if he sees the sun. It is quite different, but it is indeed a powerful effect. For when the sun sets my supernatural gifts flee.

      All that is, but my never-ending youth and life. That is always with me, but my strength, my ability to fade from the minds of those around me or to take the shape of one of the true animals flee from me. I become almost a mortal man, almost, but not quite.

      For though I lose those gifts that could remove me from this cell I retain the unearthly beauty that my brother and I share. My wavy black hair, my deep, dark eyes and my white skin, what is left after their torture. It has, over the years, been both a blessing and a bane. For women are attracted to me. Not as many now, during these years of machines and television and computers, but it does still happen. They see in me something they have dreamed of in the night or maybe in a moment of boredom. Both my brother and I are tall. Well over six feet. And through no effort of my own my frame is muscular. It is just something that the gods gave me. A gift they said as they laughed at the punishment they gave us.

      Oh I long for this night to be over, for the sun to rise. The fools think that they will be able to threaten me into giving them something, some way for my power to be transferred to them. They stand across this cold room talking quietly.

      They do not understand the small smile on my chiseled features. They wonder at my lack of reaction with the threat of what they think will burn me up. What they know in their weak bones will turn me to ash. It is so amusing. Or would be if they would stop the torture, take off these electrodes.

      Here science has a foothold over ancient magic. For these new powers of the mortals, this ability to harness the power fields and to send it coursing through wires is still a wonder to me. In the eons I have lived I have watched these creatures evolve from hairy, cave dwelling near apes to touch the stars. They have still so much potential inside them for greatness if they would, but give up the dark side of themselves. Where the old magic of the humans had no power over my brother, or me, this electricity they play with hurts greatly. Even stuns a mind unused to being lessoned. The last time I felt pain such as this was when my brother and I were cast out of our home and made to wander the face of this world.

      Once again the balding, bespectacled scientist comes forward, the small black box in his hand.

      Though I understand the devices of this time, this box is different. It has, but one, button and when he presses it my body suffers immense pain. Over and over during this, the longest night of the year, he has hit that, button. At one point I lost control of myself and fell down into darkness for a long time. It

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