I am awakened by one such man. I hear his heavy steps shuffling across the floor above me. The silver clangs as he shoves it into a rough burlap bag. A thief who chose the wrong home. A solitary mistake that he will not make again. He doesn’t see me until my hand is on his throat and his back is slammed into the wall. He begs, pleading that his family is hungry. I let my eyes go black and my voice grows cold as I tell him that mine is too.
These are the journal entries of a centuries old vampire, Nicolas Rider. Welcome to his world...
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
August 6, 1861 - Mobile
The hot air sticks to my skin uncomfortably. While I am concerned with trying to blend in despite my lack of sweat, the heat keeps the humans miserable. The beating sun tugs at their inner darkness. Irrational, unscrupulous behaviors scratch the surface of every man I meet. Broken by the heat, they look for any easy pleasure to replace the happiness seeping from their pores.
I am awakened by one such man. I hear his heavy steps shuffling across the floor above me. The silver clangs as he shoves it into a rough burlap bag. A thief who chose the wrong home. A solitary mistake that he will not make again. He doesn’t see me until my hand is on his throat and his back is slammed into the wall. He begs, pleading that his family is hungry. I let my eyes go black and my voice grows cold as I tell him that mine is too.
I am awakened by one such man. I hear his heavy steps shuffling across the floor above me. The silver clangs as he shoves it into a rough burlap bag. A thief who chose the wrong home. A solitary mistake that he will not make again. He doesn’t see me until my hand is on his throat and his back is slammed into the wall. He begs, pleading that his family is hungry. I let my eyes go black and my voice grows cold as I tell him that mine is too.
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