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

Monday, February 25, 2013

September 21, 1413 - Wiltshire

     I will be leaving England soon. Only a few more months and I will have control of my cravings enough to travel. I am ready too, ready to be rid of the memories this land holds for me. I rub my fingers over the cold rocks as I walk along one of the only places I will miss here. I once thought Stonehenge was a mystery like some many other humans but now I know better. The circle of stones hides its real use from the unsuspecting, keeping its deadly secrets.
     Designed by the vampires, it was used as a trap. Once vampires would drag an injured werewolf here, let him whine and howl in pain, luring the pack. Then when they rushed into the circle, vampires would close in on them, tear the limbs from their bodies, spill their blood across the grass, and bury the bodies under the night sky. As I move through the dark, part of me, a big part, wishes we still used this trap and that I could orchestrate it. 

Monday, February 18, 2013

December 2, 1414 – Budapest

     Sneaking out to spend a night away from Marcella’s watchful eye was one of the best ideas I’ve had in a long time. Sure, she will be angry, but if I manage not to kill anyone tonight, she will also be impressed. Killing is not on my mind as I continue to a beauty. A vampire like me, she begged me to join her in the alley. Who could say no as she raised her dress in an invitation?
     Pressing her back against the building, I feel her body tense around me. Her moans and sharp gasps make my grip on her tighten as her fangs puncture my neck. My warm blood runs over my clavicle, staining my shirt. But something’s not right. She’s taking too much. I have heard of vampire’s like her, the nomads. I push away from her but am too weak to fight. With blurred vision, I see Marcella approach quickly, hear the woman’s screams cut short suddenly, then everything goes black.   

Monday, February 11, 2013

February 11, 1792 – Sydney

     My eyes open but there is nothing to see, only the boards of a not very well crafted coffin. Someone must have been in a hurry to finish it. The smell of dirt and rot caress my nostrils as I lie still, thinking of the humans that put me here. They were fools to think a box like this could contain a monster like me for long. They will think differently when I take my revenge.
     I feel the night covering the six feet of earth above me and press against the chains that are wrapped around me. The metal snaps and separates easily enough. My fingers graze the rough wood above my abdomen, feeling the fibers prick at my skin. Then in one quick motion, I slam my fist through the boards and dirt pours in on me. I let it fill the coffin for a moment before I rip the opening larger. I crawl out, through the loosely-packed soil until my hand bursts through the grass and I feel the breeze on my fingers. I pull myself out of the ground and brush off the dirt from my shoulders. Looking over, I see the grave digger staring with wide eyes. Giving him a twisted smile, I walk away into the night.

Monday, February 4, 2013

November 17, 1421 - Beijing

     I am sure that Marcella can see her mistake. I can. To let me, a creature with so much resentment and hatred for the world, train with a former Mongol solider, who craves death as much as I do, is surely an oversight on her part. In the two years we have spent here, I have learned very little about him.
     I thought that when he took me out alone, I would find answers to the many questions he has left me with but instead we slaughtered our way across the city. He said very little that wasn’t about war, tactics, and survival. But I must admit the way his smile twisted when he tore that villager’s limbs from his body was unnerving. It made me wonder if I looked that frightening, if I was, in fact, watching the future me. Part of me was concerned but a bigger part was intrigued.