December 31, 1699 - Venice

     Laughter echoes in the alleys. The smell of rum fills the air, reminding me of a time so long ago. A time when the turn of a century was something special, not just another day, another year, another cry in the night. When I was human, my father welcomed the New Year passed out on the dirt floor of our home. I watched as he vomited on himself in his slumber and promised myself that I would never be like him. I guess I kept that resolution.

     Leaning against a building, I distract myself from the loneliness my curse brings and choose my meal carefully. Not that one, he’s much too drunk. He won’t scream the way I want him to. Not her. She has her arm looped around a man that sees nothing but her face. Finally, I see my prey. Round and pompous, a rich glutton shoves his way through the crowd. I smile to myself. This may actually be a happy New Year after all.  

March 14, 1915 - Fargo

     The luxury of air filling your lungs may not be necessary for all species but every creature craves it. Every ounce of every being yearns to taste the freshness of the air as it sweeps over its tongue and expands its chest, relieving the pressure inside. And as I lie at the bottom of this frigid riverbed, deep away from the penetrating rays of the sun, I wonder how many more times in my life I will suffer holding my breath for an entire day. How many times must I let the air in my lungs grow stale and unsatisfactory?

     Regardless of how much I think of it, I have no answer. As the sun sets and darkness takes its grip on the sky, I swim to the surface and emerge, dripping wet and knowing one answer. Those werewolves that chased me here will not have to wonder when they will stop breathing cause they are about to find out. 

August 15, 1573 - Sitia

     Some would call me a monster and maybe they're right. After all, I did slaughter an intolerant group of misguided humans just to save a vampire from a burning house. They tried to destroy her family and managed to murder her mate. Heartbroken and sullen, she had sat down next to his ashes, waiting for the flames to consume her. 

     But the fire did not take her, I did. I pulled her from the house, knowing the number of humans that would die for her to live and accepting that price. And now, as I hold her in my arms, letting her tears soak my shirt, I console her and am reminded: Those who are so bigoted are the real monsters here.

May 15, 1623 - Madrid

     I saw them approaching long before they reached our property, saw their torches gleaming in the night. Stupid humans, always attacking us in the dark, as though the fire makes them more threatening. It doesn’t. We waited in the trees until they crowded around our house then rushed across the yard from behind. The first man I came to died quickly as I twisted his head until it faced me. The second, not so quickly, as I slashed his throat with my claws.

     By the time the rest of the humans noticed me, a pile of bodies was forming at my feet. Their eyes grew wide, they screamed as though we were demons and they scattered like scared little children. Not all of them made it off the property before we sank our fangs into them, tore the flesh from their faces, or crushed their skulls into dust. When silence finds me again and the night grows calm, I look around at the masses of humans covered in blood lying on our yard and think: pathetic.  

May 19, 1912 - Machu Picchu

     The Incan ruins behind me seem familiar though I have never seen them before. It is the way they are constructed, so similar to the buildings in London before I was turned. Stones piled on stones, making walls out of rubble. It is beautiful to most but not for me.

     And while the others meander around the ancient city, I stare out over the mountains. Although it is dark, my eyes can make out the clouds that wrap around the summits as clearly as any human could on their best day. As I look out over the spectacular site of the ridges and peaks of the mountains, I am reminded of the thousands of humans that had to die so that I might see it. And yes, I do think their sacrifice was worth it.

December 26, 1906 – Melbourne

     The theater is crowded with more people than I assumed would be here. The scent of their blood wraps itself around me, holding me in its sweet embrace. It is nearly intoxicating in such a small space. But that isn’t why I came. My eyes are fixed on the screen, focusing The Story of the Kelly Gang in all of its silent, black and white glory. I watch as the police hide under a bed making a small smile light my face. 

     I ignore the woman who walks toward me despite the burn in my throat. I’d rather pretend to be human tonight. But as she passes, the heavy scent of her blood slams into me and my smile fades. Reflexively, my body turns toward her. And as she exits the room, I inconspicuously start after her. I guess being human will have to wait. 

January 12, 1946 - Dresden

     Werewolves and vampires are not commonly friends. In fact, I do not know of any other than me and Tara. So I understand that people do not accept our camaraderie but a ban, honestly? Not only is that ridiculously childish of her husband but I will not have it. Ever since he returned from the war last week, I have been ready to kill him with every mention of his name. I can only imagine how good it would feel to have his blood on my skin, to see his body, cold and pale. It’s enough to make me close my eyes, lost in the pleasure his death would bring me.

     I smell Tara before I hear her steps drawing near. Leaning away from the tree, I can see that she came alone but that isn’t why I smile. She runs to me and jumps into my arms. Holding her tight, I feel the warmth of her body through my shirt. I admit I am surprised that she listened to me and sneaked out but I am so glad she did. When she looks into my eyes, I see a loyalty there that only a wolf can offer and it makes me nervous. The pressure is on me now to not screw this up like everything else.  

June 19, 1441 - Limerick

     I step over the body on the floor and pour another bucket of boiling water into the pedestal tub. Swirling my hand, I mix the cold and hot water until it is the same temperature as blood. It did take more humans than I thought it would to give the water the crimson color I was going for. Now with a weaker scent and thinner consistency, it is close enough to the real thing to make my throat burn.
     Getting into the hardened pottery tub, I sink into the deep red mixture. Sliding down, I submerge myself and open my eyes. Dark and smooth, it caresses my body, wrapping it in unimaginable pleasure. I lie, covered by the bloody mixture, until it becomes uncomfortable to hold my breath. Rising out of the water, I let the crimson stream over my skin and drip from my hair. Looking around the room at the bodies scattered on the floor, I smile. Happy birthday to me.  

October 31, 1962 - Cleveland

     We leave for Germany in a matter of hours but there is still time for one more need to be filled. Walking along the dark streets it is hard not to notice the children unknowingly dressed up as me. With their capes and bulky plastic teeth, they make me smile to myself but they are not who I am looking for.    

     She is. The same woman I called on last night. A beauty that is clueless about the beast she is sleeping with. I step onto her porch and knock lightly, knowing which need I plan to fill, but when she opens the door my throat is set on fire. Smiling at me, she stands in the doorway covered in fake blood from the Halloween party she just returned from. Even without the smell to tempt me, the sight of crimson on her skin makes my mouth water. I smile, knowing that not one but two needs will be filled tonight. 

October 22, 1573 - Sitia

     My feet pound against the sand, leaving behind my shallow imprints but they will be masked by padding paws soon enough. The wind pushes against my face as I race along the shoreline, the sound of growls and snapping teeth not far behind me. I leap forward, tucking my body and roll across the beach, grabbing a large piece of driftwood. Bounding up, I slam the wood into one of the werewolves’ jaw, splintering it into the air. Another wolf leaps at me and we collide onto the ground. I kick him away and roll onto my feet as the third wolf jumps at me. Running toward him, I shove the driftwood up into his skull from under his chin and slam his body to the ground.

     I hurry to the first wolf which is lying on the ground unconscious and snap his neck quickly, leaving his human body, naked and dead, in the sand. The second wolf bites into my leg and drags me down. I grasp at the beach but the sand just slides between my fingers. Driving my foot into his face, I kick him off and his teeth dig gouges in my muscles but that does not stop me from grabbing his fur and pulling him into the water. I push him under and ignore the way his claws dig into my arm and watch his last breath make its escape.  

January 2, 1615 - Madrid

     I try to avoid this place. There is too much old death to make it pleasing. But this is where he is. Because of me. I kneel down close to the little tombstone and run my fingers over the name I stole. But this name is not the only thing I claimed from him. I also took his life, all six years of it. In that moment, I looked into his blank eyes and saw what I had become. I saw the monster I didn't want to be. I had taken his life but he had given me back mine in the process. Never again has a child’s blood touched my lips.

     I lay my flowers along his grave as a tear rolls from my cheek and drops onto the ground. Whispering my apologies, I stand up to leave but I will be back because this is where he is. Because of me. 

July 28, 1623 - Atlantic Ocean

     While the rocking of the ship lulls most of the crew asleep, I stare ahead into the immense darkness, out over the ocean to a land not yet visible by the man in the crow’s nest. Far in the distance, it calls to me, promising vulnerable towns still trying to build themselves on brotherhood, easily discarded bodies, and the fun that a maturing nation can bring. I have waited longer than preferred to come here but that wait is over now.

     There were so many things I did not know of as a human. This world did not exist to me at one time but like vampires, it has revealed itself to me at last. As a smile spreads across my face, I watch the slowly enlarging coastline, wondering what I will find there. There will surely be those who have fallen short of the dreams they came here with. But when they find me, they will beg for their wretched lives.

December 25, 1620 - Madrid

     Christmas means something different to everyone. It is suppose to be a time of celebration. A time for families to come together, enjoying the company. A time for food and charity for others. But growing up, Christmas was not a happy day. It was a day of remembering that my mother was not with us. A day when my father would drink himself into a slumber while I felt even more alone with my hunger.

     I suppose that is why I make such a fuss over it now, making up for my childhood. I have spent days planning and preparing a meal for our enthralled humans, our sheep as we call them. They will eat until their stomachs grow tight and full. It is the least I can do since most of them won’t live much longer. After all, they’re not the only ones feasting today.

June 2, 1961 - Cleveland

     I saw her three nights ago leaving the hospital. She must have been visiting someone very ill because her eyes were red and swollen. But I can take that pain away. Two nights ago, she stayed home and I watched her through the open blinds. My mouth watered with the thought of her blood coursing down my throat and the way her skin will feel between my teeth.

     Last night, she walked her neighbor’s dog for the last time but she was not alone like she assumed she was. Tonight, she stands in the produce section sifting through the pineapples, picking a ripe one that she will never taste. I make my way toward her, knowing that I am about to introduce her to myself and a night full of pain. And it makes me smile. 

March 16, 1482 - Berlin

     A lone sound in the house. A sort of tapping. The slow and steady dripping of blood brings the scent of happiness to my nostrils. It makes my mouth water with its pleasantness and a dark smile spreads across my face. I open my eyes to see the walls streaked with bright crimson and the smeared handprints on the door where the humans tried to escape. But it is not in me to leave witnesses.

     Stepping over the bodies that are tossed aside on the floor, I reach into my pocket and take out a wooden paw. I press it in the pooling blood at my feet and stamp its footprint pattern across the floor. When I reach the middle of the room, I stand and leave my own steps outlined in blood heading to the door. Looking back at the footprints as they change from wolf to man, I know what the humans will see. I know who they will blame. Silly humans.

     

August 20, 1409 - London

     I hold my stomach as pain rips through me. My screams echo in this small house and I do not even attempt to quiet them. Fire streams through my veins while my skin burns like ice. My bones ache as though they could shatter at any moment. My body is changing. Something is different. Something is happening but I don’t know what. 
     These people should not have brought me here. They should have left me in the alley.  Hunger pushes its way inside me, sending a blaze of thirst along my throat. I feel as though I haven’t eaten in days, weeks even. But something here smells delectable. It’s something I have never smelled before. I think it’s the people. And I think I want it to be them.

July 15, 1791 - Sydney

     I took Kate to the beach tonight. It was her first time seeing the Pacific. The air was still thick with the heat of the day, perfect for swimming. Although the reef would be more beautiful in the light of the day, our eyes had no trouble making out the wondrous colors in the inky black. And like the bustling city, the aquatic night life here is anything but dull. 
     Just for fun, she tried to hold her breath longer than me but that didn't work out. Thirty minutes is a long time to deal with the uncomfortable pressure in your chest that the stale air creates. But as the night came to a close, I let her win. Only once though.

July 4, 1923 - Chicago

     Eyes everywhere were on the sky. Fireworks blazed across the moon, lighting up the night around the humans. But they should have been watching me. They should have been watching their families and friends as I pulled them into the shadows. They could have so easily seen the explosions in the sky reflecting in their neighbor’s frightened pupils. Could have seen the last breath leave their friend’s lips. Could have watched as I dumped another body in the alley.

     But they didn’t. Nobody ever does.

April 27, 1861 - Mobile

     Sleep did not find me today. And how could it have? Not with a new vampire writhing in pain and screaming as his body turned. The hardwood floors were not dense enough to muffle the sounds well and his foul mouth only had my blood boiling. Why would Marcella turn him? Arrogant and brash, he is not someone I would have chosen for this life. I would not have even given him the merciful death he was begging for. Sure, I could have explained to him that fighting the change only prolongs it but he would not have listened. He is unyielding to any opinion that is not his own.

     Secretly, I am hoping that Luther does not survive the first year as so many new vampires do not. Because I have the feeling that every day he is alive will be a long and painful one. At least, it will be for me. 

November 23, 1754 - St. Petersburg

     Tonight is a special night. It is Kate's first night outside without Marcella scrutinizing her every move. After six years of conversations, I finally get to spend a night out with my new found friend. When I saw her as a human, I never imagined that she could mean so much to me in such a short amount of time.
     A few trips down the slides should start our evening right especially since I have explained the seventy foot ice hills to her several times and watched her eyes light up with enthusiasm each time. Then maybe we will get in some dancing and a quick bite. Despite the fact that she has to be home early, I want her to know the happiness she brings me but I have to wait for night to cover the earth and this clock is not moving quickly enough for me.

August 20, 1409 - London

     Pain is my new life. The insatiable burning in my throat beckons me to drink and my hands tremble from the thirst. My body aches from deprivation though I have tried to appease it. My breaths grow jagged as I close my eyes, trying not to see the events of last night. I try not to think of my body changing in the alley or the slaughtering of so many that I once cared about. I find my neighbor's blood enticing now, to say the least. Clutching his body, I pulled him into the shadows with me to hide from the sun and fill my belly but I am still empty inside. Not simply from the hunger that drives me but from everything I've lost. I have no home, no family, and no future. What did I do to deserve this hell? Life imprisoned as a monster?

September 18, 1932 - Paris

     I sit on the bed staring at her lifeless body long enough for her blood to begin flaking from my skin. Feeling my fangs beneath my lips, I curse myself for losing control again. Killing the humans means very little when you are looking for prey but she was different. This isn't how I planned for this to end. I just wanted her, to feel her flesh against mine, but it was too much. My thirst took over. The monster inside me lashed out and another carnal instinct was satisfied instead.
     I cannot stare at her naked corpse any longer. The guilt pulls my eyes away from the pain I have caused as I try to focus on how I will clean this up before the quickly approaching sunrise.