The light was intense, so brilliant that for a split second it blinded Vachon. Then, his vampire eyes focused once again, and he was amazed at the visions before him. The visions astounded him. But, it was the light that drew him, warmed him, and he walked into it...

Why wouldn't the hallucinations stop? The screams, the agony of the children, were much too much for him. His head ached from the relentless delusions, his blood boiled with the hatred in Divia's blood, which now coursed through his veins, pounding beneath his skin. Divia, with one bite, had transferred her dark and destructive emotions, her intense hatred, and dead blood to Vachon.

As the hallucinations moved him deeper into madness, the walls of the Church, once his haven, his home, dissolved into the inner sanctum of an Ancient Egyptian tomb. He heard a child taunting him, and then silence.

Divia's thoughts were becoming Vachon's thoughts, as blood mingled with blood. He could no longer think clearly. Divia's thoughts, too old and evil, overpowered him. No matter how often he tried to push her thoughts away, they always returned. Vachon felt trapped inside his own body, Divia was in control of his mind. If he didn't get her out of his head soon, he'd go insane. Must think of something else...something pleasant...something before blood and death ruled his life...before he was a vampire...

Javier Vachon sat quietly, reclining on a bench in the garden of his family's villa in Barcelona. It was midnight and a full moon lit the garden. He had been waiting for more than an hour for her.

Waiting impatiently.

Music from a party inside the villa filtered softly through the garden, its rhythms calming his nerves. When would she come? Had she seen him leave the villa? Would she follow him as he wanted her to?

As if in answer to his impatience, she appeared from behind a tree. She was a vision in blue tulle; her long, dark hair artfully pulled up in the latest fashion. Javier sat speechless, drinking in her beauty, but quickly realized his rudeness and rose to meet her. If he didn't say something, she might turn and leave. After all, she had taken a great risk in meeting him here. A risk that could hurt both their reputations. An unmarried lady of breeding shouldn't be meeting men in the middle of the night, alone in a secluded garden, especially if the lady in question were betrothed to the man's older brother.

"No!"

Pulled to the present by pain, Vachon doubled over in agony and fell to the floor of the Church. Divia's thoughts came crashing in on him, calling up the hunger. A hunger like the first hunger -- it ruled his every thought. The hunger flowed through his veins, obliterating the past thoughts of his true love. He must feed now or he'd go insane. Then, Divia would win. That is what she wanted when she had attacked him. She knew the evil in her blood would render him helpless to the visions and the hunger. Her blood would destroy him and hurt LaCroix in the process. LaCroix would be left all alone. Divia's final revenge against her father.

"No!" Vachon cried out again. He would not let Divia win. He had to fight all the darkness swirling in his blood, in his head, drowning him. Tracy. He knew she was coming to the Church. I have to be in control when she arrives or...

He willed the pain away. He bid his mind to return to that night in the garden. That night nearly five hundred years ago when he told his older brother's fiancée he loved her.

As the beauty before him approached, Javier extended his hand to her. She grabbed it and they both sat down on the bench. He looked into his love's eyes and quietly spoke, "You cannot marry Raphael, Maria."

Vachon felt her try to pull her hand away, but he would not allow it. Then, suddenly, he released her hand -- Maria was free, but not for long. He moved his hand slowly to cup her chin and lift her face to his. Again, Javier said, "You must not marry Raphael," and he added, "because you don't love him. You love me!"

Trembling, Maria began to speak, "No, Javier, don’t speak of it. I must marry Raphael. My father would never allow our union. You know this. Raphael and I have been betrothed since we were in the cradle, maybe even before. You are the second son and as such, you do not inherit. You must stop this nonsense," Maria pleaded.

Vachon was not deterred, he insisted, "No, run away with me, Maria. Come on...take my hand. We can go away together where our two families will never find us." Javier persisted, as his hand slowly caressed the ivory skin of her cheek.

"I am sorry, Javier. I cannot go with you. Please try and understand."

Javier knew why Maria wouldn't flee with him. It was her position in society. Her family, her friends, society's demands. She wasn't strong enough to break free of those bonds. She had often remarked on it. She would not go away with him and become an outcast, live a life of potential poverty. She didn't love Raphael, deep down he knew this; but she would stay and marry him, be the dutiful wife, daughter and eventual mother because it was what was expected of her. However, Vachon couldn't give up that easily, he loved her too much.

Vachon stood and walked a few feet away from Maria, turning his back to her and trying to control his emotions. Then turning around and dropping to one knee, he pleaded one last time with her, "Come away with me, Maria. I know you love me. Please say yes."

"Please, Javier, you must forget me. I will be your brother's wife soon."

"I could never forget you, even if I live to be a hundred. Maria, you are my one and only love. If I cannot have you, I will go. In the morning, if you do not come to me tonight. I will go to the New World...alone."

"Then you will go alone. I do not love you, Javier. I love Raphael. I want to marry him. You must stop this at once. You must leave me alone."

Javier Vachon stood, straightened his jacket, turned and glanced at his love's face one last time, seeing he could not change her mind, he walked out of the garden towards the villa and the engagement party still going on inside.

He cared little for the festivities going on inside his parent's house, his heart was dead inside.

Vachon could feel the spike going through his chest and he vaguely heard Tracy call his name, but the spell he'd cast for himself was too strong, as he willed the pain away. The last thing he remembered seeing was Tracy's concerned blue eyes staring at him as the world went black.

It was true what they said, Vachon thought. Your life really does flash before your eyes when you die. Well, all five hundred years that Vachon had been on God's earth were passing before him in his head. At least, that was better than Divia's thoughts. He was finally free of that horror.

Vachon looked at Tracy's tear-stained face and tried to block out the pain of the stake impaled in his chest. He wanted to tell Tracy his thoughts, his feelings for her. But then, he remembered yet another love, another time, and he faltered. Instead of telling her he loved her, he simply said, "Wish me luck, Trace."

The light. The light was bright. As Vachon walked toward it, he began to feel more and more human. The vampire in him was leaving. As he stepped into the warm light, Vachon felt that his past sins were being forgiven.

He was free. Free from a life of eternal damnation. Free to be mortal again, only now he was dead. Where am I? Heaven? Hell? Or something in between? A place God created for sinners, for killers, for vampires.

Beyond the white light, a hand appeared. The devil? An angel? Vachon felt compelled to touch the hand, and when he did, he was surrounded by light. Who was this person? Whose hand was he holding? He looked at the body connected to the hand. The face smiled. He knew this face well. He had dreamed of this face for centuries, the face of his beloved, Maria.

But, suddenly the face changed. No, it wasn’t Maria's face, it was Tracy's. Tracy's warm smile and beautiful blue eyes looking back at him with love.

Then the face changed again. It was Maria. But the changes didn't stop there. This time it was Maria's face with Tracy’s eyes. Was he going insane? Was this Hell? A place where Tracy and Maria were there to torment him for eternity? Touchable, but still out of reach -- a living hell.

Finally, the vision changed again. Now, just Tracy's face remained. Then it was all so clear to him. This wasn’t Hell. They were one and the same, Maria and Tracy. As mortals, the only trait they shared was the color of their eyes. But here, in the light, they were the same soul.

His soul-mate.

Maria's soul had been in Tracy; maybe that was why he had been drawn to her, right from the beginning. His mind may not have realized it, but his heart had. Tracy and Maria were one and the same. His one true love had been in Toronto all the time, just waiting for him.

Javier raised Tracy's hand and kissed it. Then slowly he leaned forward and kissed her lips. Yes, they were Tracy's lips; he remembered their feel. He smiled.

"I've been waiting for you, Vachon," Tracy said, "waiting for you to realize it was me. After you left me in the Church, I was killed. That life is over. Just as my life as Maria ended, so did this one. The day I sent you away was the saddest day I have ever known. I loved you, I never loved Raphael, not even after I married him. My heart always belonged to you. My soul has always been drawn to you. Here, in this time and place, we finally found each other, only to be ripped apart by Divia. But, now we will never be parted. We will be together forever, Javier."

As Tracy finished speaking, he saw her smile, that lopsided smile he had always loved and he grabbed her hand, wanting to see if he could feel her. He could. He didn't understand why he could, but it filled his heart with joy. He said, "I always knew you loved me. And now that I've found you, I will never let you go, mi querida."

Tracy nodded.

Slowly, lovingly, they clasped hands, turned and walked together towards the light, assured that the time they had spent apart had been filled with a purpose: of reaching this point.

Now Vachon knew they would be together eternally, that no force could ever tear them apart ever again, he was finally at peace.

With his love at his side, he stepped into the final void.....

"We can be like they are.
Come on, Mary...
(Don't fear the Reaper)
We'll be able to fly...
(Don't fear the Reaper)
Baby, take my hand...
(Don't fear the Reaper)
Baby, I'm your man."
                    --"Don’t Fear the Reaper", Blue Oyster Cult