‹ Prequel: The Encounter
The Dearly Departed
Transylvania
The way back to Transylvania was longer than I had remembered. It was cold and silent with no one there to accompany me.
"If only he had come back with me things would have been better." I thought to myself.
Finally, with the moon high above me and the cold, brisk, refreshing air of Ice Peak blowing through my hair I felt safe, at home. More so now than ever before.
January
February
March
Minutes, hours, days, nights and months passed until I realized how much I truly needed him. So I went back to Maine to see how he was doing. For surely the thirst had gotten the best of him and the transformation was complete, but I was truly curious to see how he was holding up and what kind of mayhem he was causing. With him not being able to control his thirst at all, there is probably a great deal of it.
When I arrived in Maine, it didn't seem if anything at all had changed, so I made my way back to Demetreus' house and surprisingly enough I remembered every turn. When I got to his house all the windows were boarded up and the house looked like it was a hundred years old rather than fairly new. Could it have been that long since I was here? No, it couldn't, but in fact it's possible. I disregarded the thoughts and walked up to the front door and once there; I let myself in. I opened the door and the smell of fresh blood was in the air.
"Stupid fool, he apparently doesn't know when his victims are dead or not." I hissed this remark to myself as I approached the hallway very carefully. I hate and have always hated young vampires, or 'fresh blood'. They attack when they want. Whether it's their own kind or not and have no self-control over lust.
With my lips pulled back over my teeth, I crouched down close to the floor as I approached the first door on my left, the main floor bathroom, if I remembered correctly. I opened the door and even I, one of the undead couldn't stand the smell of the rotting flesh in that room. I closed the door quickly and caught my breath, then I drew in a deep breath and held it as I opened the door and stepped inside the room. I looked toward the shower and the curtain was drenched in old brown-red blood. I grimaced at the sight but pulled back the curtain anyway.
I looked at the horrendous sight briefly and I knew that this was the work of fresh blood, no doubt about it.
"If only he had come back with me things would have been better." I thought to myself.
Finally, with the moon high above me and the cold, brisk, refreshing air of Ice Peak blowing through my hair I felt safe, at home. More so now than ever before.
January
February
March
Minutes, hours, days, nights and months passed until I realized how much I truly needed him. So I went back to Maine to see how he was doing. For surely the thirst had gotten the best of him and the transformation was complete, but I was truly curious to see how he was holding up and what kind of mayhem he was causing. With him not being able to control his thirst at all, there is probably a great deal of it.
When I arrived in Maine, it didn't seem if anything at all had changed, so I made my way back to Demetreus' house and surprisingly enough I remembered every turn. When I got to his house all the windows were boarded up and the house looked like it was a hundred years old rather than fairly new. Could it have been that long since I was here? No, it couldn't, but in fact it's possible. I disregarded the thoughts and walked up to the front door and once there; I let myself in. I opened the door and the smell of fresh blood was in the air.
"Stupid fool, he apparently doesn't know when his victims are dead or not." I hissed this remark to myself as I approached the hallway very carefully. I hate and have always hated young vampires, or 'fresh blood'. They attack when they want. Whether it's their own kind or not and have no self-control over lust.
With my lips pulled back over my teeth, I crouched down close to the floor as I approached the first door on my left, the main floor bathroom, if I remembered correctly. I opened the door and even I, one of the undead couldn't stand the smell of the rotting flesh in that room. I closed the door quickly and caught my breath, then I drew in a deep breath and held it as I opened the door and stepped inside the room. I looked toward the shower and the curtain was drenched in old brown-red blood. I grimaced at the sight but pulled back the curtain anyway.
I looked at the horrendous sight briefly and I knew that this was the work of fresh blood, no doubt about it.