5. Letters

Laura - Present Day

The door closes shut behind him. This man is quite a character. Ha! I guess this is how one acts when the entire world revolves around him. Sure as hell, I’ll not save his life again. I can find another alpha to kill me, but he’s the strongest, the surest bet. That is if the old hag didn’t lie to me when she said only the Dacian Draco could kill me.

I’ve researched for years, trying to grasp the ancient legends and the true lore of Dacian culture. Draco, or Dracon, was the battle flag of the Dacians, Costobocs, and Tyrrhaites from the current territory of Moldova as well as the Dacians south of the Danube.

It had the shape of a wolf's head with an open mouth, which continued with a dragon's body, made of textile or leather that swelled in the wind, making a noise that mimicked the howls of wolves terrifying the enemy and formed a horizontal serpentine flag.

It took me a long time to connect all the dots. The reference was clearly about the wolves. A wolf’s head clearly meant an alpha. The dragon was what puzzled me for years. That was until I heard of Paul Mateescu. His way of keeping the supernatural beings under a tight leash of rules earned him the nickname of Dragon, Draco in old Dacian. Bingo!

But the man I’ve been stalking for days already isn’t what I thought. The papers keep talking about him like he’s some sort of Casanova with the wealth of a king. I didn’t see him partying, hooking up with women, or flaunting his fortune.   

This Paul Mateescu is still a mystery for me, one that I may find intriguing to discover. But what would be the point of it? If he gives me what I want, he can keep his secrets. 

A beautiful fountain pen sits atop a stack of papers on the desk. It's old school. That's great! The feel of a vintage writing utensil is excellent. I have a similar one at home.

As I saunter over the paper, I savor the experience, my handwriting simple and proportional.

—

My name is Laura Nedelcu. Below is my address. Feel free to drop by anytime and kill me. I would very much appreciate it. If not, I may find myself forced to stalk you some more until you do.

P.S. Next time I will not save your life :)

—

I open the windows and leap outdoors, leaving the message on the desk under the fountain pen. The villa's second level is not high enough to stop me from landing on my feet. With ease, I walk out of the pack's estate. Perhaps Paul didn't expect me to leave throughout the day. But, according to Iustin, my creator, the light does not kill strigoi; rather, it weakens them.

Another one of my oddities is that I am completely unaffected by light. It's as if destiny restricts one's alternatives when one wants to die. More than a half-century has passed, yet I still haven't found anything that can kill me. Paul is my one remaining hope.

The subway is many people's favored mode of transportation in the city, and it's an obvious choice for a strigoi. No, I like to stroll to my Dristor flat. It takes me two hours to walk, but that's ok with me. I'll have some more time to reflect on my meeting with the Muntenia pack's alpha.

I get home, sneak into my cozy couch, and try to read 'Pride and Prejudice.' It's an excellent book, but I never seem to complete it before discovering a better one. How can someone put pride ahead of love? Can prejudices outweigh what you feel in your heart? I don't know the answers to these questions. All this time, love has eluded me. Yes, I believed I was in love once or twice, but they were simply illusions, foolish infatuations. Then I just stopped looking. What is the point of love if one desires death? Just a stumbling block in a life I don't want to live.

Alisa propels the door, hurling it into the wall. 

I'm brutally pulled from my daydreaming. “Can you stop destroying the apartment?”

She turns around and gazes at the doorknob piercing the wall. Then she simply closes the door gently, as if that would repair the damage. “Sorry, Laura, I’m still getting a hang over my new power. Who could have thought that being a strigoi can give me superhuman strength?”

“I warned you about the so-called perks before you killed yourself and forced my hand to turn you.”

"Ah, that." She flips her hand from the wrist and puffs. "I haven’t heard half of it. I stopped at immortal. That stuff is getting wasted on you. Let’s go out, have some fun. We’re young, beautiful, and alive."

“I beg to differ,” I say and look down at the book. 

“Stop wasting time reading!”

I don’t reply and move my eyes from left to right over the book as if I’m actually reading.

“Here’s something I found stuck in the doorjamb.” Alisa throws a piece of paper over my book. “Has your name on it.”

I frown as I tear open the envelope. The letters have a rather unusual way of curving in oblique waves to the left.

—

Undear Laura,

You seem to have forgotten the basic things about a letter. Next time you want to leave me a message, follow the format of this one, or else I will not read it.

Considering I won’t come to your apartment and I will not be killing you any time soon, I guess you will continue stalking me. Therefore, I hereby officially invite you to the Romanian Business Organization party this weekend. You will be my plus one. This way, you won’t have to sneak around.

I can’t leave the dress to your tastes since I don’t know if you have any. Proper attire will be coming your way tomorrow. 

Unkind regards,

Paul Mateescu

—