"Well, grab a seat and have a drink. What are you in the mood for?"
The man walked behind the bar counter and lined up the bottles. He moved with familiarity, as if this was something he'd done for a living.
"That said, you know where you are. Don't expect anything standard in this place. Sure, there's none of the real deal, but we have wine grown using cow blood as fertilizer. Gotta set the mood, right?"
He added, eliciting a faint smile and nod from the woman.
"Oh yeah, we really do. But I need to stay sober for the job, so I'll only have one glass. Can you make a Kiss in the Dark?"
The name made the man crack a grin, revealing a pair of over-developed fangs.
"Yeah, that's a specialty of mine. Good taste you got there. I'll have me some of that, too. Such a Dark Gift is actually perfect for what I'll tell you tonight. You were Ms. Malloy, right? Sit down and get more comfortable. I'll bring the drink in a sec."
"Just 'Dinah' is fine, Mr. Ehrenburg."
"Then you can call me 'Wilhelm.' Hell, even 'Bey' is good... On second thought, forget I ever said that. It ain't reasonable, but it just so happens that everyone who calls me that is either dead or unhinged. Feels like the name's cursed or something. Just use 'Wilhelm.' You'll probably know what I mean once I'm done talking. You got enough space on your recorder? Hope you're ready for a long one."
"I'm well prepared, thank you. But I must say..."
As the man — Wilhelm Ehrenburg — nonchalantly, yet skillfully prepared the cocktails, the woman — Dinah Malloy — found herself perplexed. Wilhelm was sharp enough to notice it.
"Surprised? I'm way more worldly and direct than you imagined, aren't I?"
"...Sorry, but yes, that's exactly how I feel. I'd expected a person like you to be different in many more ways than you seem to be."
"And it's making you doubt I'm the real deal, eh?"
"I wouldn't go that far... But I am curious why you decided to give me an interview."
"Ain't it obvious?"
Wilhelm Ehrenburg shrugged as he filled the two glasses with the completed cocktail.
"It's 'cause you're a fine piece of ass. See, you got me pegged all wrong. I'm never actually hiding from anyone. I live how I want and go wherever the hell I like. So if I find a good woman, I just approach her. Though, I can't deny that I've been feeling good lately. That might've had something to do with it."
He left the counter, walked up to Dinah, and extended his glass toward her. Still somewhat perplexed, she timidly accepted it.
"I'm honestly surprised that I was able to meet you so easily. I do believe that you never run or hide, but, well, you have, uh..."
"Oh, you mean the brats?"
"Yes. Pardon the term, but you have a number of fanatics. It's said that in vampire bars such as this, merely speaking your name is a death sentence. I see it's nothing but an urban legend now, but the very fact it exist is a testament to just how much you're revered by the youth that gather in Borges houses such as this. You're not just a myth, either, so I really didn't expect this meeting to come about so easily."
"And yet you came to me head-on."
"I had no other options. Is that strange?"
"Damn right it is. Takes guts. It's why I think you're a fine woman."
Wilhelm chuckled, baring his fangs and throwing his head back. They were in a private room at a vampire bar in Brooklyn — one of his main haunts. He'd reserved the whole place, so there was no one besides them.
"You're lucky, too. Luck's a pretty big thing, y'know? I have none of it, so I like those that do. Borges houses like this are all over the place around these paths, and I frequent those, too. You gotta have some of it to bump into me like this."
"True. I guess I really was lucky."
"So yeah, this is probably fate or something. You and I are connected. That's why I had the brats leave. Nothing's gonna bother us now. Tonight belong to us. I'll help you out with your work until the break of dawn. Like I said before..."
"All my questions will be answered when you're done with your story?"
"Damn straight. That's what interview are for, right? You'll know why I'm so direct, hear about the curse, and understand why I'm in a good mood... I'll tell you everything. From start to finish. That's what you want, right, Dinah?"
"Yes... I'm all ears, Wilhelm."
As if taking part in some solemn rite, the two made a toast and emptied their glasses. After she gulped down the dark gift he'd mixed her, Dinah began talking in a friendlier tone. Then, she pulled out her voice recorder and turned it on.
Wilhelm sat on the sofa opposite her and, not wanting to keep her waiting, began his tale.
"I was born in 1917... I think. Not too sure about the details. It's not like I forgot, I just don't have any way to confirm. I was born into destitute poverty. There's no family register with my name on it, and it wasn't a time or country when that was rare. Whatever the case, despite my looks, I'm actually a really old fart."
His words would've made any normal person doubt their sanity, for if they were true, it would mean he'd live for nearly a century.
However, his appearance was that of a man in his twenties. If reason applied, he was talking nothing but nonsense. It would've been easy to dismiss it as such, but Wilhelm had an aura about him that made his tale strangely convincing. The same could be said about his looks. Handsome Face, Unnatural pale skin, hair devoid of any color except white, bewitching red eyes... The dim light of the room made those features stand out like a full moon lording over a black night. Freak bars — Borges houses — such as this were often frequented by eccentrics with a penchant for body modification. To them, skin with an unnatural color was small-time. You'd have to remove a limb to leave them impressed.
Wilhelm, though, had none of the reek of fakery prevalent among those folks. He felt like a natural freak — a perfect fit for the establishment. There was a generic disorder called "albinism," and he appeared to be a prime example of a sufferer.
"You were born in Germany, weren't you?"
"Yeah. Hanover. The whole country was probably the same back then. In a word, it'd be 'shithole.' You're a journalist. Means you know your history, don't you? It was basically what you'd expect from a country that lost a war. Shit's not worth talking about."
A time of mass poverty and public unrest. Though he'd experienced the horrors first-hand, he talked of it not with gloom, but with grin. He claimed to have been born in Germany at the tail end of World War I, and he act as though he knew the ugliest side of humanity better than most. Dinah didn't question the authenticity of his words and merely listened. Now and then she'd give her passive nods. Being a professional interviewer, she couldn't allow herself to interrupt him. Even if Wilhelm was just a megalomaniac, it wasn't her job to try and fix him. However, she couldn't help but voice a reaction to the words that followed.
"My Mother was my Sister."
"Huh...?"
She couldn't understand it. To her, those were words of pure madness, thoroughly detached from reason. Or perhaps it was a reaction of her most animalistic instincts, rejecting what seemed implausible for any fellow human. The reaction onlymade Wilhelm's grin grow wider.
"You didn't know that? It's info you can find if you look hard enough. Didn't come prepared, did ya, Dinah? The vampire of the battlefield. The pale-faced SS officer who had appeared in just about every war-torn area since World War II. The wandering Hakenkreuz. The one and only Wilhelm Ehrenburg. Saying all that is embarrassing, but it's who I am. You're here to interview me, aren't ya?"
"Ah, umm... Sorry. You're right. I should've done more research."
His somewhat playful words made Dinah hastily shake her head and apologize. She then repeated her words, as if to digest them.
"Your mother was your sister... Does that mean...?"
"It does. Don't you journalist hear about stuff like this pretty often? Or is it so sickening that you just can't get used to it?"
"No, that's not it. And none of it is your own fault, so I don't any less of you because of it."
"Really, now? I'm pretty damn disgusted by my blood, myself."
Though this ugly facet of his origin wasn't unheard of, it was certainly something that would raise a lot of eyebrows.
"Just like everyone else, I don't have any memories from before I was born, so I don't know shit about who pumped me into her womb or when it happened. I'd like to say that's something only the mom knew, but the bitch was a damn prostitute. I can only guess, really, but I'm damn sure I'm right about that. My earliest memory is from when I was four or five years old. I wandered out of my box for the night, walked around the house, and saw my old man and sis just going at it like wild animals."
"Your 'box'...?"
"Yeah. Just a box. Nothing special about it. It was both my bed and my hiding place. You know what I mean, don't ya? It's pretty damn obvious that I ain't good friends with the sun."
Dinah nodded in response. Albinism was a condition that disturbed melanin production, and those affected were extremely weak to sunlight — especially ultraviolet rays. A malnourished child with this disorder would definitely die if he walked around during the day. Thus, young Wilhelm always hid in his box until sundown and crawled out when it was night. It was a life fit for vampire, not a human.
"My old man was a loser who lost a leg in the war and was kicked out of the army. With nothing else to do, he just drank booze, fucked his daughter, or punched me around while shitting all over the place. That's all I remember about him, but that's probably all he was. And my mom... Well, sister... Ah fuck it. Heiga's fine. That's her name."
"Did she punch you, too?"
"No, she was actually pretty nice to me. I can still remember her drunk, sugary voice as she called out 'Wil, oh my dear Wilhelm.' Woman was lost in her own world. Dumb bitch."
Wilhelm continued to spit on the memory of what might've been the only person to have ever loved him, apparently feeling nothing. He ridiculed her, making blatant his shame at having her blood in his veins.
"She was so damn stupid that everyone could have their way with her, and she never really got what happened and why. It was like she didn't even have the capacity for the slightest bit of sense. Anyway, enough about my happy little household. Let's get back to me. Like I said, I couldn't move around at day, but at night, my old man and Heiga were busy doing their thing. It was nothing I wanted to watch, and I was hungry, so I just went ahead and took to hunting. First bugs, then mice, then I became good enough to occasionally catch birds and stuff. It was a life of nothing but going hungry and eating. Then, one day, I realized that this was the kind of creature I was."
He'd discovered his identity, and it stayed with him to this day.
"A vampire?"
"Yeah. Hey, doesn't that sound like some sorta miracle to you? Some kinda truth? I mean, think about it. Back then, I didn't even know about those things. Hell, I barely knew what a school was and didn't even have a single picture book at home. There's no way I could have been influenced by Bram Stoker. That can only mean that I'm not some faker or a follower, but an original — a true ancestor. I got to where I am all on my own."
A sunlight-hating, nocturnal hunter with a taste for blood. If he'd recognized himself as such a creature despite not knowing the concept of vampires, then indeed, it was safe to call him the genuine article. At the very least, he definitely wasn't merely imitating it.
"Sure, I can only say this now 'cause I learned about vampires later, but all that matters here is the first moment when I realized the truth about myself without anyone telling me. Things started to change fast after that. Awareness is power, you know? I became better at hunting and got way stronger. I could even beat and eat a pack of stray dogs. But then, well..."
He lightly chuckled and shrugged in a self-mocking manner.
"Sadly, they weren't just enough for me anymore. Pretty stupid, ain't it? I grew up and started to crave better quality and quantity. Cats and dogs just didn't cut it. I wanted some hotter blood."
"And so, you..."
"Yeah, I went for humans. They were the next logical step. I started with a baby. Kidnapped the damn thing. I ate it and slurped up its blood,"
He added with no remorse in his tone.
"I went on to do lots of other stuff after that. Sometimes started fights, sometimes got dragged into them. Shit like that. Anyway, that was just about when Heiga found the mountain of bones I'd buried in our yard."
He hadn't even felt like a child caught committing mischief. In fact, he had been more surprised by the fact that Heiga, of all people, was the one who'd found him out.
"That was when I had a little thought. 'Why are these my parents?' I didn't know about incest or how society saw it, and even now, I don't really give a shit. But even back then, I could tell they weren't like me. They were something really fucking disgusting. I guess you could say they always pissed me off. I could just feel they were my parents, that we were related by blood, and the fact that something like me came from something like them? It drove me nuts. And what did I do them? Well, isn't it obvious?"
Wilhelm asked.
"I killed her. If I didn't break where I came from, I couldn't have been born in the real sense. It was a... How do I put it...?"
"You felt that your birth kept you bound, so you wanted to discard your past. Settle the score, so to speak."
"Yeah, that. That works."
Wilhelm was a vampire, but his parents were lowly humans. From his perspective, he was a phoenix born to a pair of kite birds. This truth endangered his identity, so he tore it all apart. If he didn't shatter the connection, it would've destroyed him, instead.
"My accursed roots, return to ash."
He had both an abnormal mind that could form such alien conclusions, and proactiveness that let him act on them with no hesitation to speak of. To Wilhelm, it all came as naturally as breathing. He was indeed a "monster." Sanity was no friend of him.
"So yeah, the time I killed Heiga was probably the first time I became sure about myself in the real sense. Not that it changed the fact that I reached the truth all by myself. I fucked her real good when I tore her apart, but I only did it 'cause I wanted to break the hole I came out of. I was rock hard and came over and over. Lemme tell you, I felt reborn in more ways than one. Whoa, sorry. That's not the kind of thing you tell a woman. Not with that kind of excitement, anyway. All you need to get from this is that Heiga was my first woman, and that she was pretty damn good. Khahahaha!"
The exhilaration in his tone, combined with the subject matter, was enough to induce nausea in most people, men and women alike. Dinah's endurance in this regard was nothing if not commendable.
"I'd like to ask some questions. What became of your father?"
"Killed him. As an extra after Heiga, basically."
"Did Heiga try to scold you?"
"Fuck if I know. I killed her right when she called me over. But, well, she wasn't one to ever scold me. Honestly, I think that..."
"She was glad to have been killed by you?"
"Maybe. I mean, she became the foundation for her beloved son's greatest desire."
"So this event meant a lot to you, didn't it?"
"It did. I've never felt more satisfied than I did at that moment."
"But didn't you say that you still find your own blood disgusting? You killed your parents and broke free from the curse of your birth, so why would you say that? You've been reborn, right? You found yourself and became the vampire you were meant to be, didn't you?"
In response, Wilhelm simply shrugged.
"No need to rush me. I'll tell you all about it."
As if declaring the introduction over, he began talking in a more theatrical.
"The years right after I killed Heiga aren't even worth talking about. Sure, I was having the time of my life, but in hindsight, it was all so fucking dumb. I was too damn short-sighted and narrow-minded. So I'll just skip ahead about a decade. To a certain... Evening, I think... In the year 1939. I'll tell you about my meeting with Lord Heydrich and the rest of the Longinus Dreizehn Orden... I'll tell you what the thirteen of us thought, did, where we headed, and where we arrived. And what we're planning to do now. Of course, I can only tell you the things I saw with my own eyes, so I can't vouch for the bigger picture,and there might be things I misunderstood. But know this: I ain't gonna tell a single lie."
"Kiss in the Dark."
The Dark Gift. The vampire pointed at his own chest and cracked a suggestive grin.
"That's the cocktail we just had, but it's also the name of a certain something living in my soul. Now ain't that just fuckin' classy?"
His voice carried with it his love of the night. And then, he merrily began to recount his tale. What follows are his memories — the bloody, strife-stricken life of the man called "Kaziklu Bey."