These are the journal entries of a centuries old vampire, Nicolas Rider. Welcome to his world...

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

August 22, 1409 - London

     The past two nights have been a blur, everything painted red, screams and pain all around me, and the strange pleasure I find in that. Crouching in the shadows, I listen to the people walking in the streets, trying to convince myself to stay hidden. I have tried to satisfy the fire in my throat, attempted to bribe it with crimson payments but to no avail. It rips through me, worsening with the passing of each human. With my hands trembling from the pain, I step into the street, searching for my next victim. 
     The person I see should stop me but my mouth waters despite his  importance. Reflexively, I step toward him when I feel a cold hand wrap around my mouth. Hoping death is the one that has me; I do not struggle and let it pull me into the alley. As more distance grows between the humans and me, my thoughts become clearer and I realize it is not death that has me. This person saved me. Saved me from the pain and regret I was about to endure. And as my own father passes the alley, I look back at the blond woman holding me and I see my savior.  

Monday, June 17, 2013

May 3, 1820 - Mérida

     Walking along Paseo de Montejo, I glide my fingers over the city gates. The walls here were meant to keep out the revolts of the Mayans but they do not keep out the real dangers. They do not stop me from strolling the city streets, seducing the naïve and young women, or preying on the precocious men. Even at night the wealth and charm in this city is easily seen.     
     As I meander along, a dark-skinned beauty approaches. Her skin is moist from the heat, a bead of sweat rolls down her neck, tracing her vein. My throat burns with hunger and greed. Her eyes meet mine as she passes, stopping me in my tracks. I watch her for a moment until she glances back at me with a coy smile and my thirst surrenders to a much more persuasive need. I start toward her; after all, I am still a man.

Monday, June 10, 2013

February 2, 1521 – Athens

     I can smell his musky wolf scent from the shadows but the temptation of her human blood outweighs the risks. Hand in hand, they watch the Aegean Sea tumble into the cliffs below. My mouth waters, making my fingers dig gouges into the tree I am peering from. I charge quickly but his superb hearing tips him off and in a flash, he throws her like a doll into the nearby Temple of Poseidon. As she skids on the cold stone floor, I abruptly stop in front of the columns. Unable to enter a place of worship, even an ancient one, my glare turns to him.
    Wondering why he makes no effort to phase into his wolf form, I expose my fangs in an angry hiss. He urges her to stay where she is despite what happens to him but I tell by the panic in her eyes, she will run. Then it hits me, he hasn’t changed because she doesn’t know what kind of beast he really is. He is willing to die to keep it from her. A cruel smile spreads across my face, I am willing to oblige him with that and fear will chase her out of the safety of the temple.