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

Monday, November 26, 2012

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.

Monday, November 19, 2012

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. 

Monday, November 12, 2012

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.  

Monday, November 5, 2012

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.