The White Lilies

Everything was ready for the ritual. Jack looked down at the girl before him. She was sleeping peacefully in the coffin with the cover still opened, his shadows looming over her. The room was dark, lighted only with candles. People were sitting in the rows of chairs arranged in a way that the coffin with the girl was the centre of the attention in the room. Their eyes all stared at Jack and the girl in the coffin, unblinkingly.

"Rosie." Jack bent down to look more closely at the girl and murmured her name. Her eyelashes were so long, her eyebrows dark and her face pale. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever met. For a moment, he was lost in her beauty once more.

Now, she was lying in an opened coffin, her hands holding a bouquet of white lilies, which were her favourite flowers of all times. The white dress set off her flawless skin and her waterfall-like black hair which was laid nicely around her head. Jack leaned forward to touch her hair. She looked comfortable lying on the silk in the coffin.

He remembered back when they were little kids, she would follow her around in the neighbourhood, trying to be involved in whatever things he was doing. She stayed around him when he first tried to ride a bicycle. She gave him all the encouragement he needed. "Jack," she would say. "You can do this!" Thanks to her support, he could now ride confidently and carried her everywhere she wanted to go steadily as she did not know how to ride a bicycle.

When they were in lower grades, he remembered he was bullied for being the weird kid in school. He was deeply interested in fantasy adventurous books at that time. He especially loved vampires and werewolves. She would stand in front of him, her arms outstretched like a hen protecting its chicks. "Back off." Jack could still hear her voice echoing in his head. It seemed just like yesterday.

He remembered too, how she told him that her favourite flower was the white lilies. "White is the purest colour of all, like how everyone's souls should be." Her eyes shone brightly when she talked about her dream of keeping the peace of the world. From that day onwards, he bought her white lilies every week. Sometimes only one, sometimes three, sometimes a bouquet of white lilies. He liked the smile on her face.

"It's almost time." An extremely old-looking man in the front seat called Jack, dragging him back from his sweet memories. The old man seemed like an important person in the 50's century. The black suit he was wearing looked as if it shone in the kindling candle lights. The men in the same row all looked at Jack disapprovingly. All of them were frowning.

Unwillingly, Jack straightened his back, looking longingly at Rosie's flawless face. Then, he turned and walked to the small table standing in a dark corner in the room, still in the range where the old men in the seats could see him. Their eyes followed him closely, like a predator staring at its prey, hungrily.

From the drawer of the small table, Jack fished out a knife. He raised the knife until it levelled with his eyes. He observed the glint on the blade. How cold it was to touch at this hour of the night, he wondered. Slowly, he walked back to the coffin in front of the room.

He walked past the coffin where Rosie was sleeping inside and stood in front of the audience so that everyone in the room could see him. Not many people, only about 30 people were in the room to watch the ritual. There were people as old as the old men in the front seats and kids as young as 10 years old. All of them had their attention on Jack now.

A mysterious symbol was drawn on the ground beside Jack, with candles circling it.

"My beloved brothers and sisters," Jack spoke, his voice loud enough to be heard by everyone's in the room. "Today, we gather here," he moved around as he spoke, trying to make eye contact with as many people as possible. "To welcome our new commander of the organization.

"I thank you all for your presence on this important day of our organization. Our organization has been through a lot of challenges. From the constant battle with the werewolves to the hunting by the mortal human being, it is tough. We have lost a lot of our men and blood to the werewolves and the mortals. So many, throughout the centuries. So many, that we have lost count of them and even forgotten most of them." Jack paused, looking sombre in front of the audience, so touched by his speech. The extremely old man in the front seat stared at him coldly but said nothing.

"But fear not," Jack turned his head back to the audience from looking at the ceiling. "All of these will be the past, our time," he scanned his audience, his eyes shining, "has come."

As if to make it sound more powerful, he repeated it a few more times. "Our time has come. Our time has come. Our time HAS COME." He threw a fist in the air forcefully. His eyes burning with excitement. "Let the ritual begin." He opened his arms widely and happily.

All the while, the audience stayed quiet. I must say, the atmosphere in the room was a bit eerie. Everyone was looking at Jack with an expressionless face. Their face was so pale that it seemed that there was no blood flow underneath those skin. Even the young children looked solemn as if they had enough of Jack's speech. Behind Jack, Rosie was still lying in the coffin peacefully, not knowing what was happening around her.

Jack walked towards the weird symbol on the ground, knelt, and raised the knife to his left palm. Biting his lip, he cut through his palm, and blood started dripping steadily out of the wound. He moved his left palm to the symbol and let his blood drip on the edges of the symbol. Soon, the symbol was retraced by Jack's blood, shining in bright red.

Standing up, Jack took a deep breath and looked at the eldest old man in the front row with a smirk. The old man showed nothing. Jack grinned at him; his hand red-stained with his blood.

Slowly, he walked towards his beloved woman in the coffin. As he walked nearer to her, his legs seemed heavier, so heavy that he had to slow down and drag his steps.

When he finally stood beside the woman in the coffin, he looked down, his breathing heavier than ever. There were so many emotions in his eyes, so many. Love, reluctance, sadness, and... greed. The change of all his emotions was noticed by the important old man in the front row.

Then, he opened his eyes wide and raised his wounded hand and the knife above the woman, a determined look on his face. He moved his bloodied hand towards her mouth. A drop of blood fell into her mouth.

The woman in the coffin suddenly opened her eyes, looking startled. "Jack?" She was so shocked. Rosie looked around and realised she was in a coffin. Terror immediately filled her eyes.

"What, are, you, doing?" Words came out of her mouth with a lot of difficulties. She was starting to find it hard to breathe. She felt water evaporating fast from her body. Horrified, she raised her hands, still holding the bouquet of white lilies. What came into her eyes was her hands slowly dried up until it looked as if they were the hands of a dried corpse. Her mouth opened as if she was trying to scream, but no sound came out.

With a plop, her head fell back on the silk in the coffin. What now lay in the coffin was not a woman, but a dried, dead woman, her hands clamped to the bouquet of white lilies tightly. A drop of blackened red blood was on one of the petals of the flower. It was not pure anymore.

All the while, the audience looked on expressionless.

Tears filled Jack's eyes. But he could not cry, not now that he was finally part of the organization he so yearned to be in since lower grades. He turned his face away from Rosie and the audience, trying to contain his tears. Gradually, he felt his tears dry up, probably the same way as Rosie's body just did.

When he finally turned to face the audience, his face had become as pale as his audience's faces and fangs protruding from his mouth. For a few seconds, Jack just looked at his audience and the audience looked back at him. Nobody moved.

A clap broke the silence. It was from the important old man in the front row. He was smiling from ear to ear, two fangs were clearly seen in his mouth. Nonchalantly, everyone in the room followed. And soon, the room was filled with robotic hand claps.

Jack broke into a grin, baring his fangs as he enjoyed the sounds of the handclaps meant for him. All these years, his dream of becoming a vampire had come true. The price was unbearable, but his time had finally come. As a vampire.