The Traveler (Vampyre Tales Vol. I)

By Sascha von Bornheim

As Tetsuya impatiently waits for the train to reach Ozuka station, he reminisces about his life.
He ponders a world that is in a permanent state of change, and that eagerly discards old values in exchange for new ones.
A world that hasn't really felt like it was his for a long time.
Things were easier when Tetsuya was young, but then his life changed one fateful morning, long ago.
Nothing would be the same.
Everything was lost.
Eternity was gained.
But at what price?

Keiko is a young Japanese woman who has just finished her shift at a fashion boutique.
She gets on the train and thinks of her apartment in Ozuka, where a warm shower and bed are waiting for her.
She barely takes notice of the strange man who sits just a few feet from her.
Why does he carry an ice box?
She doesn't know.
Yet.

The train speeds on, bringing Tetsuya and his prey closer to their final destination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sascha von Bornheim
• Release date: Dec 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463816240

Sascha von Bornheim

3 Questions for Sascha von Bornheim: Q: You can take one item with you to a deserted island. What is it? SvB: A boat. Q: Why? SvB: Well, it's an island. I assume it's surrounded by water. Q: You can't get off the island. The point of the question is to find out what you'd take with you if you had to stay there permanently. SvB: A gun. Q: You would shoot yourself? SvB: Evidently. I mean, the island is deserted. Who else am I going to shoot? Rick James? Oh wait, he's already dead. Now, I didn't know him personally, but I think the cocaine might have had something to do with it. It's a hell of a drug. Q: If you could have dinner with one famous person from history, who would it be? SvB: Einstein, Hitler, Aristotle... all such obvious choices, so I must say 'no' to them. Plus, I'd want to have some fun... so I guess I'd have dinner with Jesus. Q: Jesus? How is that fun? SvB: He had a fondness for wine and his wife was a hooker. Use your imagination. Q: Why do you write so much about death? SvB: It fascinates me. We all get to experience it, no matter who we are. Death is the one constant thing in our lives, time and space mean nothing to it. It comes to us all. And yet, no one has lived to tell the rest of us about it... what's it like? I for one believe that we simply cease to exist, but the concept of not being at some point in time when I am clearly here right now is difficult to grasp, and maybe a bit scary. I guess I'll just have to live forever. ***** Sascha von Bornheim was born in Bonn, Germany in 1978 and resides in Montreal, Canada. He is a member of the International High IQ Society and The Brights.

Book preview

THE TRAVELER

(VAMPYRE TALES VOL. I)

by SASCHA VON BORNHEIM

Copyright © 2018 SASCHA VON BORNHEIM

SMASHWORDS EDITION

THIS BOOK IS ALSO AVAILABLE IN PRINT AT ONLINE RETAILERS.

###

SASCHA VON BORNHEIM

THE TRAVELER

VAMPYRE TALES VOL. I

Table of Contents

HONDORI STATION

HIROSHIMA, 1689

HAKUSHIMA STATION

TRAPPED, 1689

NISHIHARA STATION

YOKOHAMA, 1801

FURUICHI STATION

FUKUOKA, 1887

KAMIYASU STATION

LONDON, 1888

TAKATORI STATION

SAINT PETERSBURG, 1912

CHORAKUJI STATION

HIROSHIMA, 1945

TOMO STATION

OKINAWA, 1968

OBARA STATION

TOKYO, 1977

OZUKA

###

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

HONDORI STATION

It was a cool October night in Hiroshima. This city of a million inhabitants was always pulsating, always moving; but now the leaves had begun to turn, the days had become shorter. It was cold. Winter was around the corner, and people had begun wearing warmer clothes. Inside the massive Hondori shopping mall, a young woman named Keiko had just finished her shift in a small but upscale shoe store. Hondori was Hiroshima’s signature shopping mall; a unique construct in a city with a unique history. Hondori did not consist of a single, large building; it was an entire city street that had been covered with a richly illuminated and beautifully decorated roof. It was always filled with shoppers on foot or on bicycles, and many tourists browsed through the varied shops. The small shop in which Keiko sold fashionable footwear to the wives of office workers who wasted away the hours in the nearby business towers was located toward the east of the long shopping street. She herself was now headed west, to the Hondori station of the Astram train line. The train would bring her to Ozuka, to the west of Hiroshima. Downtown Hiroshima itself was located on an island in the Ota River, but Ozuka was on the mainland. Ozuka station was only 8 kilometers from downtown, but the Astram line’s commuter trains circled the city: first the line went north, and then in one giant half-circle it came down again on the western mainland. Keiko walked briskly toward the train station, she longed for a warm meal, a warm shower and an even warmer bed. Her blue skirt and white blouse did little to protect her from the chilly weather. She buttoned up her jacket and threw her scarf around her neck. Tomorrow was Saturday, and she could sleep in. She smiled.

In her hurry, she did not notice the tall, thin figure that was silently following her. This was not the first night on which she’d had a stalker; the creature had been watching her for some time. It had noticed her slender frame, her small yet perfectly shaped breasts, her elegant face, her graceful demeanor. It had noticed all these things from the safe anonymity that the crowds in Hondori afforded it, and it had grown hungrier each day. It would have to feed soon.

It followed her to a noodle shop. It waited patiently near a bike rack until a small bespectacled man handed her a bag containing soup. She continued on her way, hoping to catch the 9:21 PM train. The station had only opened a few months before, and she was glad that she no longer had to take a bus to get back to her apartment. The train saved her a lot of time, and it was punctual. The creature followed her onto the platform, blending in perfectly with myriad other travelers. Once, a long time ago, it had preferred to approach its victims directly, fearlessly. These days, the police made it ever harder for it to satisfy its hunger, and it was forced to stalk its prey carefully. It had to be careful not to leave fingerprints. It had to be smart. But it also had long lost the nerve to look into its victim's eyes when the moment came. If Keiko had turned her head toward the creature, she would have seen the two enormous fangs it bared as it smiled at her. But she was looking in the other direction, hoping for the impeccably clean gold and black train to appear soon. The ride to Ozuka would take about half an hour, and she'd walk a few minutes from the station to her apartment. She saw the light of the train approaching and readied herself to fight for a seat with the other passengers as it slowed down in front of the platform. She waited for the hiss that signified the imminent opening of the doors, and pushed her small body inside. She found a seat, and after scanning the other travelers in search of familiar faces -and finding none- she closed her eyes, tired from a long, boring day at work. The creature, meanwhile, stepped into the very same wagon as her, but Keiko still hadn't noticed it. It was dressed in the smart businessman uniform that so many Japanese office workers wore: a black suit, a white shirt, and an unremarkable blue tie. It had a clean-shaven face, a shiny bald head, and was unusually tall. It gave no indication that it was anything other