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

Thursday, November 27, 2014

April 21, 1753 – St. Petersburg

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     With my eyes closed, I lie on the snow covered ground.  The cold soaks my pants and wrapping my body in an icy embrace. Lying there, I image that in the silent, bitter air she would have been able to feel my looming presence. Here in a secluded forest, her screams were isolated to my ears only. Still, she walked here with her hand in mine knowing the darkness that was to consume her. 
     Willingly, she replaced her life with temporary pain and fear. Detached from the world, she chose her escape through my unbiased and unforgiving fangs. In the moonlight, her pale skin dulled against the glistening snow as her crimson painted the fresh powder in perfection. The scent of blood warms my soul and for the first time in a long time, I feel alive.   

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