His warning came too late. I stood in a dead-end ally, I saw nothing, but the bats alerted me of its presence.

The black blotch of tar moved and shifted like a dancing snake on the ground in my direction as it grew and burst.

Stuck in place, I did not know whether it was fear or curiosity that motivated my posture.

"Søren, take heed," Vladislav yelled as, like me, Vlad regained his full body and branded his Tepes sword. It's hard to believe my brother carried about such antiquity. It demonstrates how despite his laid-back persona, inside still resides a warlord ready to attack.

The height and frame of the thing made me doubt. I held up my hand, "no, it's a child."

"No, Søren, it's a Mileniu. It's dangerous back away."

On this occasion, I trusted Vlad's instinct. He was there when the war was at its peak. Vlad knows how the now mythical creatures were. I came later; I was unfleshed on my 30th birthday and crowned on my 80th birthday.

The child stood, body coated with the substance from what it came. His eyes blank stared at me, "אבא."

Before I could react, Vlad lifted his sword and threw it like a spear. The high velocity of the blade transpired my hand as I tried to stop it. Stunned, the Mileniu rose its eyes to observe the sword's tip, which was an inch from its forehead. The pain traveled through my arm, I heaved. Whatever the Mileniu planned was interrupted, so it fled, scaling up the adjacent building walls.

Ready to follow, I took a step; Vlad stopped me, "these things can kill us if we are unprepared."

This detail is another secret the strigoi keep. The mythical beings which existed before us were far more powerful. Tanwen blessed them. Fear of the Milenius is how the Strigoi came to be.

"Right now, it's you who almost killed me."

Vlad served me his crooked smile and ripped the sword from my hand, which sectioned my member up to the common flexor sheath. The action made me fall to my knees, and blood gushed out in the unique fashion of a Sprinkler watering the pavement. If Vlad dreamt of power, the timing was perfect for beheading me. Instead, he stretched out his hand, "stand, little brother."

We retreated, and the guards retired as I was no longer King. The hawks interrogated me for seventy-two hours before letting me go. Vlad got a fine for carrying illegal weaponry, which they confiscated and went his own way. The Hawks sorcerers sought to find the unregistered Mileniu.

I rose with the dawn; the strange night's events faded, giving place to the reality where the free time gained became both pleasure and bother. I walked out of a less prestigious hotel into the sun's presence for a limited moment. Outside there was no one; the Hawks cleared all traces of the chaos caused. I was alone without protection.

Having flared its scent once, I felt its presence. My hand moved following its gestures, and I grasped its neck.

"Cad atá uait?"

"Wow, hold your horses. I am not a Lephraun; I don't speak Gaelic. We're in America, dude, speak English. Can you release the tension? I'm too young to die in the hands of a Strigoi."

Small, lean, caramel skin, and a huge afro, one could believe he was a youth of the era. At this instant, I realized he understood me though I do not speak.

"What are you?"

"Your new servant, I can chauffeur you if you want." The boy passed me, threw my keys in the air, and caught them in one hand. He opened the door to my car.

"When did you?"

Though my species' senses are sharp, I did not feel it when he took my keys. The boy slid his head out of the window, "you want to know what I am. All you need to soak in is that I am useful. So tell me, where do you want to go, Boss."

Instinct is a peculiar thing, Vlad warned me, yet I advanced and climbed at the back of my black lincoln.

"I am Mephisto, and you?"

"Call me, Søren."

The boy looked in the rearview mirror, "okay, Boss, as you wish."

His defiance would have him burnt in Denmark, but I sat back and let him drive.

An abdicate vampire king and a Mileniu; thank goodness father was a mist of scattered ashes. Otherwise, he would roll in his grave, pun not intended.

At that time, I thought Mephisto needed me. Now I am aware that I was the one who sought assistance. Where the people become hostages of the victors of war, the Strigoi and vârcolac left none alive. If the Hawks did not play the referees by demanding the remaining species to commit a Putsch on their governing bodies, we too would no longer be. As a conqueror in disgrace driven by remorse, I took in a refugee, perhaps the last of his species, hoping to right a wrong.

It was not an act of sympathy or pity but the morbid guilt of seeing normality in our barbarism.

Reading helped by broadening my horizons, learning about civilizations, discovering human exceptions, those who dreamt and those who imagined. These people's precepts are what encourage me to keep Mephisto, a supposed enemy, by my side.

Mephisto sits Aurora up. I proceed to dress her before replacing her on the ink bed. The last hour in her mind is not wiped out but altered. The deed is not mine.

The great book of Fantastic Species volume I, written by our one and only Dr. Magoo, explains the characteristic of Milenieus.

Elves, for instance, are smart; see cunning. They are the source of many conflicts. Their powers variate from one elve to another. Some can shapeshift; others can partially or totally make themselves invisible. The Dökkálfar, the rarest and most dangerous types, can manipulate and distort perceptions.

I turn to face Mephisto; seeing him in this form is quite peculiar. For the first time, I see his pointy ears, and his hair is fluorescent. I wonder if they appeared instantly or whether the image people have of him is also an alteration. If so, this would mean Mephisto walks about with his Vulcan-like ears and radioactive hair without anyone taking notice.

Mephisto sighs and mumbles a jargon unknown.

Aurora opens her eyes, "oh gosh, did I fall asleep?" She gets up and looks at her, cleavage, "wow, once again, you spotted right."

A smile of genuine satisfaction appears on her face. Mephisto leaves while she fawns over her tattoo, "I love it."

Aurora's mind is clear; she is the only tenant of her envelope. We go back into the parlor.

"Is Madam satisfied?"

"Very, I guess it's time for you to empty my bank account," where Aurora would sneer; she gives a cheeky grin.

Mephisto smiles, goldmine teeth beaming, "you asked for it."

Aurora accepts the price and turns to face me, "thank you, Søren. I don't know how you do it, but I feel so cleansed when I leave here. Wow, it's like being high without taking any drugs; it's wonderful." The deep chuckle she releases appeases my angst.

"I'm glad you feel that way."

Aurora would not say that if she knew I assassinated her former self. That Mephisto knocked her out, rearranged, and did some interior designing in her mind.

Aurora leaves, and I turn to face Mephisto.

"How much did she pay?"

"Eight hundred for the tattoo and three hundred for the express exorcism."

"Mephisto did youㅡ."

"Sorry, Boss, but these Rhomboid ears right here don't come out for free."

"What was I saying?"

Mephisto shrugs.

It's on the tip of my tongue, but somehow I can't remember.