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

Monday, March 25, 2013

September 21, 1974 – LaFayette

     I waited outside, never looking at the church. I could have lured the priest into the alley. I could have knocked over the trash, or caused someone to scream in pain. That would have bought out of his protective chapel. But I waited. For hours. Until finally, he appeared.
     I stayed in the shadows to keep him from seeing my face. He only needed to hear my voice. My confession. It took longer than it should have to list all of my sins. But then again, I haven’t attempted this in a while. I watched as he tried desperately to hide the way my words troubled him. Before I left him, he told me all was not lost. There was hope. But he is wrong.    

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

October 18, 1441 - Limerick

     Humans are panicky, predictable creatures. They are afraid of the unknown and their responses have changed very little in all these years. I heard the angry chanting, the pounding of a hundred feet nearby, and smelled an unmistakable scent. Burning flesh, but not from a vampire like the humans had intended.
     As I watch the glow in the night sky from the fire consuming my neighbor’s home, husband, and children, I realize who their real target was. The fact that it is her home burning instead of mine proves that she protected my secret, didn’t tell them where to find me, and traded her life for mine. It’s a debt that must be repaid in blood. Those humans want me but they should be careful what they wish for.  

Monday, March 11, 2013

April 3, 1618 – Cairo

     I grab the nomad by the hair and drive his face into a rock. Blood trickles from his nose as he pulls himself out of my grasp, ripping his hair off in my hand. He flips up into a tree and I leap after him. Swinging from the branches, I wrap my legs around his waist and slam his body into the trunk hard enough to hear his ribs snap. He claws at my arms, scratching deep gouges into my skin. Crying out, I let him drop to the ground. As he starts to run, I jump at him. With my fist, I pound him into dirt.
     From the impact, the ground begins to shift and open. As I start to fall into an underground cavern, my fingers dig at the loose soil. Grabbing the root of the tree, I stop with him clutching my ankle. The growls beneath us tell me this cave is not empty. I look down at the den werewolves we have awaken and the scared nomad clinging to me. With a smile, I kick him off and watch him fall to the wolves. They pounce quickly, devouring him as I climb out and save myself.