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October 2043. New York City.
She was still beautiful. That was always Cazador’s first thought when he visited Sheena in the hospital. During his centuries long existence, Cazador had seen many lives begin and wither away. He dreaded the end of a mortal life, that’s why he had chosen eternal youth. The idea of a once powerful and youthful body succumbing to fragility and disease had always been something that made him shiver, more so than any gruesome or gory way to go.
And yet somehow, even now, at the humanly respectable age of 80, Sheena never lost her shine. The deep canyons on her face didn’t diminish her glow in Cazador’s eyes at all, her body may have lost its healthy curves but not the warmth that filled Cazador’s soul when he pressed it against him. How was it possible? In the old days, Cazador had assumed magic. But after nearly sixty years in this realm he now knew it was love. Which, in the end, was the same.
“I brought chocolate. Your favourite kind”, Cazador said, smiling.
“I’d prefer good old Captain Morgan”, Sheena said, as a familiar, cheeky smile lit up her wrinkly face.
“Sorry. Hospital rules”, Cazador said.
“Fuck the rules, love”, Sheena said.
Cazador sneakily closed the door behind him and pulled two joints from his pocket. Sheena burst into laughter that quickly turned into a coughing streak.
“That’s my vampire lord”, she said.
“Just doing what Ollie would have”, Cazador grinned.
They were quiet for a moment, both picturing their bandmate as vividly as if he were really there.
“I miss him, you know”, Sheena put into words what they both were thinking.
“Well, wherever he is, I bet the party never stops”, Cazador said, smiling sadly.
“That’s what I’m counting on”, Sheena said. “When I get there…”
“Don’t talk like that”, Cazador interrupted.
“Caz, we’ve talked about this…”
“You’re doing fine! You may have who knows how many years…”
“I had pneumonia. That’s tough shit when you’re 80. I really thought my time was up.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“Next time it will be.”
“You don’t know that, Sheena!”
“A week, a month, a year… It’s a blink of an eye for you anyway”, Sheena said. “I need to know you’ll be okay.”
“Of course I’ll be okay”, Cazador lied blatantly.
“Look at you”, Sheena sighed and caressed her husband’s cheek. “Just as gorgeous as the day we met.”
“As are you.”
“Liar.”
“I never lie to you, Sheena”, Cazador said from the bottom of his heart.
He sat on the bed and lit their joints. Sheena glanced at the door making sure no nurses were coming in and took a long puff.
“Fucking Hell, I missed this”, she said.
Cazador didn’t say anything. For a while they smoked in silence, both getting lost in their memories, and oh, how many they had. Fifteen albums. Hundreds of gigs. And most importantly, all the little moments on backstages, in the car, in hotel rooms, together. The years of The Profane Ascension.
“I’m sorry”, Cazador broke the silence.
“What in the world do you have to be sorry for?” Sheena asked.
“I just keep thinking how we never had kids…”
“I never wanted kids. Did you?”
“Not really, but… You could have had a family with someone else. You could have had… a different life.”
“Fuck you, Caz”, Sheena said as tenderly as ever. “Where in the world is this coming from?”
“I was just thinking…”
“You made all my dreams come true. All of them. You hear me? You gave me the life I had always dreamed of, and I wouldn't change a single fucking thing. Not one. Not ONE, Caz.”
Behind her wrinkles, Cazador saw the same stubborn girl he had fallen in love with more than half a century ago. He knew there was no arguing with that girl. He smiled.
“Besides, I had a family”, Sheena said. “You, Randy and Ollie were always my family. And I got to be the cool aunt to their kids, and a cool bonus grandma to their grandkids. What more could I hope for? I got the best of all the worlds. My life was a fucking dream, Caz. Apologise for it again and you’re in big trouble.”
“You guys were my family too”, Cazador said, feeling a lump in his throat. “I still can’t believe they’re gone.”
“Humans get old and die. We learn to accept that as we grow. Living is hard work, baby.”
Cazador had decided not to cry this time. Sheena was the one who was old and sick, it was his job to support her. But seeing her on the bed like this, accepting the inevitable, the proximity of her loss was just too much. He couldn’t stop the tears.
“Oh, Caz”, Sheena said and pulled him close. “I’m sorry…”
“Oh, sweet child of mine”, Cazador said. “Why do we keep apologising to each other?”
“Don’t you cry tonight, there’s a heaven above you, baby.”
“I always loved that song.”
“I know.”
They kissed each other, passionately as if it was 1989.
“You’re the last one standing”, Cazador sighed. “Randy is gone, Ollie is gone… I feel like rock is dead as well. Machines make music now. Everything’s ruined.”
“Let me tell you a secret”, Sheena said and lowered her voice, making Cazador get closer.
“What is it?”
“Ollie was never that good of a bassist.”
Cazador chuckled.
“What? Yes he was.”
“Well, technically he wasn’t. He was okay. He was drunk half the time we were on stage. But you know what made him great?”
“He was great! He was… my hero. My brother.” Cazador’s voice broke.
“Exactly. His spirit. And machines can’t have that. So Caz, my beautiful boy. Rock is not dead. It will never die. Just like you, it’s eternal.”
“I don’t know if I want to be eternal without you”, Cazador said.
“But you have to”, Sheena said. “It’s your nature. Just like humanity is mine. You can handle forever. I can’t. Life being temporary is what makes it precious, for me. That’s why I never wanted to be turned. Not even for you, Caz. It’s not that I don’t love you. I just wanted to live a human life, with all its phases. To the bittersweet end.”
“I understand. And I never pushed you”, Cazador said, even though he wasn’t sure if he understood all of it.
“You never did, that’s true”, Sheena said. “You let me live and die on my terms. That’s how much you love me.”
“That’s how much I love you”, Cazador said.
Sheena closed her eyes and Cazador planted one more kiss on her cheek. He knew she needed rest. And as always, by her side is where he stayed.
-
February 2044. New York City.
Here lies
Sheena Marianne Davis Szarr
Beloved wife, aunt, friend
Drummer of The Profane Ascension
Forever in our hearts.
“Ride into the wind
on strange highways”
(Ronnie James Dio)
“Hi, sweet child”, Cazador said and laid a bucket of black roses on the grave.
Her funeral had been absolutely beautiful. Halestorm had played there, as well as Linkin Park; Sheena’s favourites of the bands that were still active. Ollie’s sons Adrian, Duff and Gale and Randy’s daughter Petra had carried the coffin. Cazador, of course, had sung Redeem You With Blood, one of their first big hits.
In his heart he had known it had been his last performance.
“So many people loved you”, Cazador said softly and caressed the stone. “You should have seen.”
The gravestone stared back at him, silent.
“I hope you guys are having one hell of a party. Literally”, Cazador continued. “With Ozzy and Bowie and Dio and Axl and Slash and Metallica’s guys… I wish… I wish I could be there…” his voice broke and he fell on his knees. “I miss you so fucking much, you know. I fucking miss you.”
The sun was almost up, but Cazador didn’t feel like going anywhere. He didn’t feel anything, really. The grief wasn’t even painful anymore, he was just numb. Pain, he could take. He had centuries of practice with pain. But this wasn’t pain. This was the hollow absence of everything that had made his life full and colorful for so long, just to be snatched away. He wasn’t mortal, but something about him had died with them, more violently and permanently than he had thought possible. And yet, it had been worth it. Just one moment with them was worth an eternity of grief. It made no sense, but that’s how it was.
Suddenly, someone’s hand was on his shoulder.
“Fuck off, Petras”, Cazador whispered.
“Nice to see you too.”
“I know what you’re doing”, Cazador said. “It won’t work. I’m not your fucking charity project. Go back to the Gate to play the benevolent vampire lord.”
“I will”, Petras said tenderly. “But first I’ll sit here with you for a while.”
“I guess I can’t stop you”, Cazador sighed. “You were always an insufferable pain in the ass.”
“I love you too, Cazador.”
The two vampires sat for a moment in silence that suddenly, for whatever reason, felt the tiniest bit less heavy for Cazador.
“You could always come back home”, Petras said finally.
“Not a chance”, Cazador said. “The Palace is yours, Petras The Wholesome. This is my home.”
“I didn’t mean as the Vampire Lord”, Petras said. “Unless… you want to, of course. I meant as my guest. To figure out what you want to do next.”
“I don’t want to do fucking anything next”, Cazador snapped. “Everyone I love is gone! I had a beautiful life here, but it’s over! Sheena is gone! The love of my life… my friends are gone. Gone, Petras! I want to be gone, too.”
“Your music isn’t gone”, Petras said. “I know you love writing songs. You were always a poet, even back then.”
“Who cares? No one listens to metal anymore anyway.”
“I’m not so sure about that”, Petras said. “I’ve seen kids out there who still wear The Profane Ascension shirts.”
“It’s just… What do kids these days say? An aesthetic to them. And either way, it’s over. I’m done”, Cazador said. “Fuck off, please. It’s almost morning.”
“I don’t think I will.”
Cazador rolled his eyes. The nerve of this man.
“Petras what the fuck…”
“Where you go, I go, master”, Petras said solemnly. “If you want to burn, then you must watch me burn as well.”
“You stupid fuck!”
“I mean it.”
“As you maker I command you to…”
“You set me free 57 years ago, remember?”
“Fucking Hells!”
“So how’s it going to be? Are we going inside or are we burning?”
“I fucking hate you, Petras! You’re the worst… the worst vampire ever to fucking suck blood in any realm!”
“Whatever you say. Shall we go? The sun is almost up, I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable.”
“Fine!”
The vampires left the cemetery and stepped into Cazador’s limousine.
“Take us home”, Cazador sighed to the driver.
-
“Cazador Szarr! Holy fucking shit!”
A group of teenagers ambushed Cazador and Petras as they stepped out of the car.
“Sir…” A pale, blond boy asked timidly, “Could we… maybe… take a picture?”
“You know who I am?” Cazador asked, a little baffled.
“Do we… of course, sir! You’re a fucking legend!” Another boy said. His curly hair was styled on top of his head like a broccoli.
“Well… of course you can”, Cazador said politely and posed with a horns gesture next to the kids.
Petras offered to take their picture, which took several attempts as he clearly wasn’t familiar with an iPhone 36.
“We’re actually trying to start our own band”, a chubby girl with raven hair said.
Something about her painfully reminded Cazador of Sheena.
“You are?” Cazador asked. “What kind of music do you play?”
“Metal, of course!” The pale boy said. “What else? The Profane Ascension is our greatest inspiration.”
“You weren’t even born when we were great”, Cazador chuckled.
“We’ve been watching all your gigs on Youtube”, the girl said. “We want to make real music, not this AI autotune crap… just real shit, with real instruments. Like you guys did.”
“What’s the name of your band?” Cazador asked.
“We don’t know yet”, The broccoli-head said. “It’s difficult to come up with a cool name.”
“Don’t worry”, Cazador said. “It will come to you. And when it does, you’ll know.”
The kids thanked him again before disappearing into the night.
“Good luck”, Cazador whispered as he watched them go.