Translation of an old German story (written 2010/translated 2015)

Unedited, so mistakes ahead!

  Cathérine

Leonard

Green Eyes

She glides over the street like an angel, light as a feather, almost as if she is floating over the ground. A gentle breeze blows her long red hair around her frame, wrapping it around her like a cloak.

When she spots me, she looks at me through catlike green eyes and her lips pull up into an alluring smile. She holds my gaze for just one second before the moment passes and she continues on and disappears.

I'm left there, staring at the spot she vacated just a moment ago, my heart still in my mouth. But my excitement passes too quickly and all I'm left with is emptiness.

I wonder if I'll ever see her again.

***

I'm standing in the same spot where I saw her for the very first time. Same place, same time. I'm looking for the beautiful stranger, hoping she'll cross my path once again. But she doesn't. Disappointed, I mount my bike and drive home.

My flat is tiny, but I can't afford a bigger one, I'm only the cook's assistant in a small restaurant.

The next day, it's raining and my mood is just as bad as the weather. I long to see the beautiful girl again, see her smile that tiny smile at me.

I pull up my hood and start running, I don't want to be late again for work.

As I'm waiting for the traffic lights, my eyes land on a slender woman in a black coat, holding a red and black checkered umbrella, turning the corner. Just as she is about to leave my view, I see a flash of rusty red hair dancing in the wind.

I jog over to where she was standing a moment earlier, turn around the corner and into a street, lined with expensive designer stores.

I search for the figure in the black coat and when I finally spot her, she's already climbing into a black limousine with tinted windows. She shakes out her umbrella from the rain one last time and then the door is slammed closed.

Of course, I end up being late for work. My boss was not amused and downgraded me to an errand boy.

***

Blood.

It runs down the slaughter in a deep red current as the butcher cuts up the meat. It splatters onto his clean white apron and runs down the blade of his large knife as he puts it to the side.

The broad-shouldered cashier winks at me as she hands me my packed delivery and she looks almost sad as I ignore her attempt to flirt.

I step outside the shop into the piercing cold and inhale deeply, filling my lungs with fresh oxygen. I feel dirty all of a sudden and long for a shower and fresh clothes. But instead I mount my bike and head back to the restaurant.

***

Last night, I dreamed of walking through a field sunflowers. I raised myself on my tiptoes and peeked over the flowers up to the horizon. They stretched as far as I could see, they were everywhere. Yellow flowers all around me. Yet I hate this colour.
I was walking through these flowers without knowing exactly where I was headed, but my eyes had seen enough of the sunflowers already, enough of the yellow. So I began to look out for an other plant, an other colour, anything but sunflowers. But there was only yellow around me.

I began to run in the direction I thought would be straight on. I ran without noticing if I was even moving forward or just running in circles.

Soon enough, I was getting annoyed, I was still trapped in the field of sunflowers. So I tried to run faster, wanting to break free.

The sun was burning on my back and the sweat was running down my face, but I still didn't move, it was as if I was struck in the same spot. I became so exhausted, I couldn't walk anymore. I stopped and wiped the sweat from my forehead. My legs were shaking from the exertion and I finally sat down to take a break. I lay down on the ground and closed my eyes for a second.

When I opened them again, I realized that I must've fallen asleep. Groggily, I looked around wondering what might have woken me up. There was quiet music in the distance.

I raised from the floor and noticed to my relief that it had gotten cooler. And it was evening, I saw the sun in the horizon, setting slowly and casting a warm orange glow over the darkening sky.

I heard the quiet music again, floating through the evening air, caressing my ears, beckoning me closer. I wanted to know where it came from, so I set my body into motion, wandering through the mass of sunflowers.

Finally I reached a little clearing, a small hill. There were no sunflowers there, just a little gazebo. I pushed the stalks to the side and found myself at the foot of the hill. I realized, that this was where the music was coming from. Straining my eyes against the growing twilight, I looked up at the gazebo and saw that its posts were covered in tendrils.

I drew closer and then I noticed the roses. They were a deep blood red colour, winding around the posts of the small pavilion and climbing its walls, covering the whole construction in an intricate web of dark green thorns and vibrant red flowers.

Just as I was about to take a step closer, my gaze fell on a shadow right under the roof of the building. I stopped immediately, screwed up my eyes, trying to see something in the dim light. But I couldn't make out anything, it was too dark already. The only thing I was certain about was, that it had to be a person, there was definitely someone standing under the gazebo, hidden in the shadows.

I was still trying to perceive something in the dark, to see anything, when a soft gust of wind blew in my direction, carrying the scent of roses with it and for a second, I was able to see something red shimmering in the shadows underneath the pavilion.

Then I woke up.

***

I shrink back at the pain and the dish I had been washing almost slipped out of my hands and to the floor. I reach for the faucet and turn up the cold water, letting it rinse down my hand until my fingers feel numb from the coldness. I let it run a little longer, mixing it with the hot water inside the sink.

My boss turns the corner, so I grab a plate and pretend to be scrubbing away at a very persistent stain in the china. But he doesn't even acknowledge me, he just passes me hurriedly.

During lunch break, I leave the restaurant and walk the streets aimlessly. I just stare at the ground and walk, wherever my feet will carry me.

When I finally decide to look up, I find myself standing in the luxurious street lined with designer shops. I peek around, looking at the rich folks strolling around leisurely, window shopping.

I spot a posh looking café on the other side of the street. Glancing through the big windows, I watch the people inside of it. Most of them are businessmen in dark suits and fancy ties. They are sipping coffee from big white porcelain mugs and seem to be lost in deep conversations.

Suddenly, my gaze lands on a woman sitting all by herself at a small table. I recognize her immediately. It's the beautiful redhead I met earlier and my heartbeat accelerates immediately upon seeing her.

I watch her closely, taking in every detail. She's wearing a tight black pencil skirt and a white ruffled blouse, sitting cross legged at a table for two and drinking coffee. It looks as if she's waiting for someone. I notice a single red rose sitting on the table right before her.

I could stand there for an eternity and simply look at her, admire the way her red hair shines in the sunlight and the way she sits there, almost motionless, like a porcelain doll, fixating the door with her green cat eyes.

Alas, I have to get back to work.

I spent all my lunch breaks in the last week in that alley where all those posh shops are, studying the mysterious stranger. She was there every day, always at the same time, sitting at the very same table beside the window.

On the third day, a man in a black suit carrying a single red rose came into the café. He looked around the room, surveying the people and spotting her after a few seconds. He went and sat on the chair opposite of her. She smiled at him and said something that, of course, I couldn't hear. They talked for a while, but after some time the man stood and left the café. Leaving her behind at her table.

After having observed her for a whole week, - other men had come and gone - I decided to take the next step.

***

I'm standing in front of the café again, the one I've been staring at for so long from the other side of the street, the one where that beautiful stranger is sitting in.

She's here today like every day, at her usual spot beside the window, looking out at the pavement and wearing a tight red dress.

I gather up all my courage and cross the street. I don't stop walking until I'm right in front of the café's doors. My knees are shaking so badly, I fear my legs might give in and a lump begins to rise in my throat, making me almost nauseous.

I reach out my hand and grab the doorknob, my fingers brushing against the cold brass that's almost black from all the other hands that must've touched it before me.

I try to swallow my anxiety and tell myself that I can do this and then I pull open the door.

As I enter the room, I'm greeted by the intense aroma of coffee and chocolate, sugar and spices, a little jingling noise chimes as the door closes with a click right behind me.

I take a look around: the room before me is tiled with little mosaics and bathed in sunlight, that streams in through the three huge windows on the right side. There's a counter to my left with all kinds of little cakes, breads and baked treats behind glass displays and a cash desk.

The room is filled with little wooden tables and matching chairs.

I look towards the back of the café and that's were she sits, next to the window. Her legs crossed elegantly over each other, her cup of coffee sitting right before her, the red rose laid out on the table. She glances into my direction and my hearts skips a beat, but she doesn't look at me, her gaze goes right through me and fixes on the door behind me.
I feel silly all of a sudden at coming into the café, I don't know what to do, my plan seems to have slipped from my confused mind, so I sit down on a stool at the counter and just watch her.

A few minutes pass and a man in a dark suit enters, red rose in his hands and joins her at her table.

"Salut," she says, smiling.

He smiles back and she begins to ask him some questions.

Her voice is low, but soft and coloured by a slight French accent.

She talks to him for a few more minutes, but then she shakes her head and he stands up and leaves.

When I enter the café the next day, I don't know what comes over me, it's like some sudden boost of confidence. I don't stop to linger by the door this time, but I just continue walking, right towards her. Without thinking, I let myself fall down onto the chair opposite of her.

I look up and at her face. She's even more beautiful from up close. And that's when the realisation of what I did hits me, I feel heat rise to my face, making me flush and I don't know what to say or do, so I just start murmuring something incoherent and start to rise from my seat, not daring to look at her any longer.

But she smiles and says: "It's so nice that you finally decided to come over. You were observing me for weeks now."

Her exotic accent and the way she tilts her head to the side ever so slightly, render me speechless yet again. So she had noticed me staring at her. I stare at the table in front of me, unable to look her in the eye, the mortification must be written all over my face, I can still feel my ears glowing red.

But she says nothing further and I can't help myself from lifting my eyes up to her pretty face, only to find her sparkling green eyes staring back at me. I notice that the jacket she's wearing today is the same hue of green as her eyes.

A small smile tugs at her red lips as I look down again immediately.

I hear a small click behind me and she turns her head toward the entrance of the café. I turn around and there he is: another guy in a dark grey suit, red rose in hand.

I get ready to stand up from my seat and make room for the man, but she just shakes her head at me and hides her rose beneath the table, so he won't see it.

He takes a look around, looking for the lady he was supposed to meet here, but fails to find her, he glances at his watch and then sits down on one of the stools at the counter to wait for her.

He waits for a few minutes and glances at his watch again, waits and checks the time again, finally he stands up and leaves.

I frown and look at the woman, but she just says: "It wasn't him."

I have no idea who she means, but I don't get a chance to ask as she talks again.

"My name is Cathérine. Et toi?"

"Leonard," I respond without taking my eyes off her face.

"Ah, very nice nom," she tells me with one of her charming smiles.

I remember looking into those green eyes, thinking I could do nothing but look at them for the rest of my life, get lost in them and forget everything else around me.

She gathers up her things, puts a bill under her mug and reaches for her purse.

"Alors, on y va, mon chérie."

She rises from her chair in a fluid motion, smoothing down the front of her skirt.

I didn't understand a word she said and remain glued to the chair beneath me, almost sad that she has to go so early.

She moves to stand next to me, looking down at me, as if waiting for something.

I stare at her cluelessly, trying to piece her words and actions together.

Is she waiting for me?

I stand up clumsily and follow her out of the café where her black limousine is already waiting for her. She heads straight for it, me behind her, like an obedient lap dog.

I hold the door open for her and she climbs inside. I'm about to close it again, when she crooks her finger at me, beckoning me closer and signalling me to get in the car.

***

I'm driving to her house, mount the stairs to her door and ring the bell.

The golden ring in my pocket is burning through the fabric of my pants and into the flesh of my thigh as I wait for her to open the door, my heart hammering in my ears.

When I tell her I love her, she laughs and throws the door in my face.

Just before it closes, I catch a glance at a dark haired man on her couch, holding a glass with deep red wine between his fingers.

***

Green eyes, full of treachery, instead of love just bring you misery.

I think to myself as I crawl back home. That would be a good saying, someone should write it down, so others won't be fooled and played with like I was.

I decide to drown myself in drinks.

Drunkenly, I stumble up the stairs to my apartment and fumble with my key in the dark hallway. I hit the metal of the door twice, before I manage to put the key into the lock and open the door. I slam the door and fall into bed, not even bothering to change.

The next day, she's at my door.

"S'il te plaît," she begs. "I need to talk to you."

I open the door to tell her to leave me alone, but she throws herself at me.

"I'm so so sorry, chérie," she purrs and presses her lips against mine. I can taste her lipstick on my mouth.

"Will you forgive me?" she asks me, a cute smile tugging at her lips.

My lips are still burning from her touch, so I just nod without giving it much thought.

She smiles yet again and starts pushing against my chest until I fall back down on the bed, her landing on top of me.

She leans down and kisses me again, stealing my breath. Then she begins to open my shirt. Her fingers brush against my neck softly, stroking and pressing down on my carotid. She stills for a moment and closes her eyes before she lowers her face.

My whole world starts to spin when she presses her lips to my neck.

***

Blood.

I feel it sticking to my skin, clotted and dried.

It's still oozing from the wound in my neck.

I can feel it run down my neck, warm, sticky and wet.

I can smell its metallic scent, taste it on my lips.

I'm lying on a pillow that's soaked with my blood.

I open my eyes, the movement is arduous, tiring, my lids feel like they were made of lead. At first I see nothing, I'm surrounded by darkness. Soon my eyes get used to the blackness around me.

I turn my head to the side and am blinded by a searing pain. Gingerly, I touch the side of my neck, my fingers coming back wet and sticky. Wet with my own blood, I realise. My hand skims over the edges of a bite wound...

When I wake up again, the smell of blood hits my nostrils and my whole body aches. I'm lying on a big bed in a dark room. I try to move, but it feels like my limbs are weighing a ton. I give up and look around.

The room I'm lying in is cast in a gloomy grey colour, I can barely see anything in the dim light. Straining my eyes, I can make out a closet at the opposite wall and a door in the corner of the room. To my right there's a window, but the curtains are pulled closed, the only light coming from a small gap between the wall and the fabric.

There's nobody there except for me, at least no one I can see, but somehow, I can feel, that there's someone nearby, maybe in the room next door.

Now I strain my memory, trying to remember where I am or how I ended up here in the first place. But I have no idea what kind of place this is or how I got here. I poke at my brain, closing my eyes and trying to recollect what happened, but there's nothing there.

***

I find myself standing on the street. Alone, in the middle of the night. It must be very late for there's no one around.

I turn around and take in my surroundings. There are a few street lamps lining the pavement, but the closest to me is not working, casting me in shadows.

I begin to move towards the next lamppost.

The orange light emanating from it, stings my eyes but I keep going, ignoring the pain until I'm blinded by tears and can see nothing anymore. I struggle to blink and that's when I hear a low noise. It sounds like the tick of a clock, but deeper, more muffled.

It must be my own frantic heartbeat, that's echoing in my ears, I think to myself and stop walking. I lay my palm down on my heart and try to calm my rapid pulse. But there's nothing there. Weird...

I put my fingers to my neck, pressing down onto my carotid artery... nothing. I move over to my wrist to where my radial artery should be, but again, the skin underneath my fingertips remains unmoving.

I start to panic, my breathing accelerates.

What's wrong with me? Am I dreaming again?

I begin to run, without thinking, until I reach streets that seem familiar to me. I continue to run across the city, losing all sense of time.

Somewhere along the way, the streetlights turn off, meaning that the sun will be rising soon and morning must be near. I continue my run, unfazed.

Suddenly, I hear a deafening noise behind my back. It sounds like footsteps, but it's so loud, that I have to cover my ears. I stop in my tracks and turn around.

There it is again, that deep, low ticking sound. I feel someone approaching me and as a soft breeze tickles my face, it brings a soft scent with it. Like a cloud of the sweetest perfume. I inhale deeply, greedily, soaking it into my lungs.

I hear footsteps not far from me and then a voice.

"Is someone there?" It asks in a shrill tone.

I can feel myself let out a low laugh and make a step forward, towards the source of the sweet smell.

And then my head gets cloaked in blackness.

The next time I feel again, I'm lying in a dark alley, in between decayed brickwork.

I straighten myself up a little and look up into the streaming sunlight.

Apparently that was a mistake, I think to myself as pain shoots through me. I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the light and lay back down for a few minutes.

When I open my eyes again, I feel weird, it's like I'm not myself anymore. I long for a shower.

Instead I look down on my hands and am shocked to find blood on them. Someone else's blood, for I'm completely unscathed.

***

Sunlight streams through the large window in my bedroom, spreading over the floor and creating rectangular shapes on the wooden flooring.

I'm sitting in the farthest corner of the room, crouching in the shadows, my back against the wall, my head on my knees. I tried crossing the room to reach the door, but every time the sunlight touched me, my skin ignited in unbearable pain as if it were burning me and I was forced to retreat back into the shadows.

I lift my face and my gaze wanders through the room.

What is wrong with me?

I haven't slept nor eaten for days. I can't feel my pulse anymore and can't stand the sunlight.

Also, pieces of my memory are missing. Sometimes, I find myself standing in some street, not knowing how I even got there. Sometimes I can't even recall what I've been doing for hours or even days.

It almost feels like I have lost that time.

***

I was standing in a dark alley. Looking around, the area seemed unfamiliar to me.

I heard noises in the vicinity, loud music.

Then I saw the neon lights, muted through my dark sunglasses. I approached the entrance of the club, when a woman suddenly stumbled out on the street. A young girl, maybe in her early twenties, wearing a sequined mini skirt and heels that were way too high.

I smiled to myself and followed her.

She walked along the dark street, her heels clicking against the asphalt. After a few minutes, she rounded a corner and entered a smaller street that was lined with trees and passed along a little park, her footsteps now muted by the fallen leaves on the ground.

Suddenly, I stepped on a fallen branch, it broke underneath my shoe, a cracking sound cutting through the silence. I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes flying to the girl.

Frightened she whipped around and glanced in my direction. I didn't know if she had seen me, but she continued her walk at a trotting pace.

Let the hunt begin, I thought to myself and couldn't stop the low laugh slipping out through my lips. I ran after her.

She ran towards the next main road, her long hair fluttering behind her. She turned around and when she spotted me chasing after her, tried to run faster.

I could hear her heart beat faster and faster, her blood pumping through her veins rapidly.

The distance between us grew shorter and shorter, since she couldn't really run in these shoes. Soon I was so close to her, that I could even perceive the scent of her blood and that was when I realised that this deep ticking sound I had heard earlier was her heartbeat which was thumping furiously now.

Then the inevitable happened: her damn shoes caused her to twist her ankle and she stumbled to the floor.

I ran past her and blocked her way. Her head jerked up and she looked at me, her eyes wide with horror, her fear written all over her pretty little face.

Your time is up, sweetheart, I thought and let my eyes roam over her slender neck. All of a sudden, I felt a great insatiable thirst come over me, I licked my lips slowly, noticing as my tongue slid over my teeth, how my incisors had become longer than before.

I stepped towards the girls, that gaped at me in panic and attempted to bolt, but it was in vain. I grabbed her upper arm and held her in an iron grip.

The last thing I remember is hearing her bloodcurdling scream as I sank my fangs into the tender flesh of her neck...

***

I leap out of my skin, almost as if I was just waking up from a nightmare. If I'd still had a pulse left, it would've been racing now. I can't shake the pictures I just saw from my mind, they just keep replaying in my mind, over and over.

Was it a dream? The girl's face, the horror in her eyes, the viciousness I felt, it felt way too real for it to be just a figment of my imagination.

I look down at myself: my shirt is soaked with blood. Nausea rises in my throat, I feel disgusted as I pull it off my body and throw it in the bin.

I enter the bathroom and walk towards the sink. I turn on the water and for a few moments, I just stand there and stare at the jet of water coming out of the faucet, listening to the rushing sound. The awareness hits me then and there: it was not a dream. But what was it?

I splash some icy water onto my face. When I straighten myself up again and prop up my arms on the edge of the sink, the mirror is covered in condensation, despite the cold water.

I swipe my palm over the cool surface and stare at my reflection. It stares back and when I open my mouth, my incisors are unnaturally long and sharp, fang like, I look like a predator. It only lasts for a flicker of a second, almost like in the horror movies, then the picture disappears and my teeth look normal.

I blink once, twice and the memory hits me like a punch in the guts. Suddenly, I remember everything. I remember the night I attacked that girl, I remember that very first night when I wandered about aimlessly, all the other nights.

And I remember Cathérine. I remember observing her, remember her meeting those men. I remember how I proposed to her and how she laughed in my face. How she came back to me, begging for forgiveness, how she kissed me... and how she sank her fangs into my neck.

***

She glided over the street like an angel, light as a feather. I haven't seen her again since the day she bit me and made me what I am today.