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


Wednesday, November 9, 2022

May 22, 1997 - Kula

   Hidden in the lush atmosphere and surrounded by the thunderous churning of the sea below, most people find this quiet series of pools mesmerizing. Tonight, this place is especially enchanting, but not for the obvious reasons. Instead, it's the softness in her smile that captivates me as she watches the waterfalls cascading, churning up bubbles that burst against our skin like tiny, delicate kisses. It is her ability to be so completely immersed by her fascination that entangles me in an inescapable desire to watch her relish in her surroundings.
   It is the way the moon shimmers across the water, dancing its way from one tiered pool into the next as the illuminated water delicately spills into itself like the tattoos along her spine. Paw prints, simple and calm, tumbling down her back and tempting me to trace my fingers over her skin and feel the chills rise on her flesh in their wake. To hear her gentle gasp at my touch. Alone in our isolation, with no souls to hear us, I watch her because I simply cannot force myself to look at anything else.

Monday, October 17, 2022

May 12, 1893 - Chicago

   The World's Fair brings them here, like moths to a flame.  They come in droves, expecting to see new and interesting inventions. They hope to see things that will forever dazzle and expand their minds and long to witness the mesmerizing lights that illuminate the dead of night in hopes that it will brighten their bleak, little life. They want to feel more significant than the small towns they have traveled from. Far from their families and the safety net of familiarity, they seek out the exhilaration this city has to offer.
   But the excitement they will find is not the thrill they have sought after. It will be swarming with trepidation and fright. They have stepped off of the trains, full of wonder; however, they are not prepared for the predators that linger in these crowds. Not just me, but humans as well, are waiting, patient and calculating, in the shadows here. So many sheltered folks, ignorant to the ways of a boogeyman, pouring into the streets and directly into our paths. There is no reason to fight off the other monsters here. There are plenty enough victims to share. After all, there are so many naïve people here, and like the moths to a flame, they too will be consumed.

Sunday, October 9, 2022

October 20, 1419 – Beijing

   The chill of the floor is comforting as I let the rigid stone soothe my aching muscles. I close my eyes and listen to him pace along the wall, allowing my brief reprieve. The physical assault my body as endured over the past six hours is more than a human could bare but it is imperative to training oneself to outlast and outsmart another vampire during combat.
   Marcella watches me sternly. Her displeasure with, in her eyes, my flagrant display of weakness and ineptitude radiates from her severely. Her anger with my inadequacy brushes against me in a most abrasive way, urging me to my feet. Pulling my protesting body from the cool floor, I stand; not because I believe I could do better but because I know that I must continue to improve. It is not possible for me to win today, only a fool would hold on to that false hope. No, I will fall again today, and I will fail tomorrow; however tomorrow I will be better than I am today. Tomorrow, I will not fall so easily.


Thursday, September 15, 2022

November 17, 1520 – Athens

  There is a wolf in the hen house. I do not mean that figuratively, but quite literal. A werewolf and his son tend to a repair in their chicken enclosure, unaware of the creature watching them from the edge of this dirt road. The father looks at me curiously. It is unusual for someone to be lurking around in this place, at this hour. Staring, he knows something else is different about me but is unable to discern what that something is. Not all werewolves believe we exist. Not all have met us in the dark of night. Some are naïve to the distain they should feel for vampires.
  Despite his unease, the father smiles at me and asks if I need shelter for the night. There it is. An invitation. My chance to enter his home and silence every beating heart. It would be easy to follow him inside and let his beast meet mine. And I would win. However, it is better to let him live and keep his entire pack from the knowledge of vampires altogether. So, I smile, and I lie smoothly about my destination and intentions, and I continue on into the murky night. I will have to find another to die in his place. But that really will not take too long. After all, there are so many others in this world that are deserving of such a violent death.

Tuesday, August 30, 2022

April 17, 1999 – Whitefish

   Colors flicker across her skin delicately, reflecting the ever-changing scene that dances on the screen. The darkness of the theater only helps to highlight the brilliance of the copper flecks that gleam in her eyes and, like a spot light designed just for me, the light cast from the screen is only enough for a vampire to see the way it shimmers across her face.
   Everyone is watching the screen, including her. This is why everyone is here. This moment; the climax; the anticipation. Their hearts beat quicker. With widened eyes, they watch as the either the antagonist or protagonist will meet their end. But I watch her. With one hand lingering in the bowl of popcorn, still frozen in place from when the movie pulled her from this reality, she stares with locked eyes. The suspense intensifies and her other hand takes mine. Her touch is firm, yet still tender as she seeks me in the dark. Watching her makes me smile softly. This is where I want to be always. Beside her, watching her illuminate the darkness that will always surround me.