Viata de Vampir

Prologue

I loathe myself. I hate what I have become, this... creature, this.... parasite to humanity.

My eyes were thin -half focusing on the asphalt ahead- as I drove, half viewing the thoughts that blanketed my mind like the way a mist covers a cemetery. These dark, vengeful thoughts swirled about uncontrollably, they have for nearly two hundred years.

Megadeath's "Symphony of Destruction" played over my car, Elizabeth's, radio. A fitting tune for the mood that plagued me. Yes, I named my car Elizabeth. Don't scoff, a lot of guys name their cars, among other things. Anyway, the name is very fitting and has... sentimental value to me.

She, the car, is a 1971 Chevrolet Nova, with a stock 307. She's black with chrome detailing, and has all around tan leather interior, save a few blood stains in the passenger and back seats. There are a few nicks and dings about her body, but despite all the minor flaws she's in great condition... she's dark, cold, and beautiful.

Where was I? Did I mention I am a vampire? I was hoping the latter descriptions had made that fact obvious. That tidbit is an important piece to my story, my journey that will soon come to an end. For when my objective is complete, death will finally descend upon this undead form. Finally...

My name is Edgar Williams...

*****

I won't bother starting from the very beginning. You know, the whole 'I was born, I grew up, ect...' Instead, I will begin the night I was turned, the night my old life was taken from me and this new existence... devoured my soul.

Boston, Massachusetts

September 23, 1821

The day was a rough and tiring one to say the least. I had worked all day -The job? Not really important- and in the ten hours I was there I had busted my ass trying to satisfy the nearly slave-driven work ethic of a tormenting boss. He yelled and cursed me to know end, just because earlier that morning I had asked for the following day off for... some important plans. A mistake I wish I had never made.

Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't asked that question, would I be where I am. Would I have lost... nevermind. That ship sailed long ago, but even after one hundred and ninety years, I still think of her.

Anyway, by the end of the day, all I wanted... no, needed was a drink. Leaving work, I headed straight for a local pub before heading home. The Bell in Hand Tavern, I remember reading as I swung open the doors and entered. The pub was alive with the sounds of nightlife. Couples swayed to and fro with the notes echoing from the grand piano in back. Drunken chatter filled my ears as I sat down on a bar stood.

"What'll you have?" The bar maid asked in passing. I raised a hand as I answered loudly.

"Just a pint of ale, if you please."

She seemed to pay me no mind, but several moments later a pint was placed in front of me along with the comment.

"You don't have to scream, hun. I've grown acustom to picking out drink orders in a crowded bar from across the room."

"I see. Thank you." I offered.

The half hour I planned to stay at the tavern, and the pint maybe two I thought to drink... turned in to eleven pints and several hours of absorbing the atmosphere and alcohol, as well as several visits to the bathroom.

Before I knew it, midnight had come and gone. And I was several sheets to the wind."I need to get home." I sluringly whispered to myself. Fighting the grip I thought the bar stool had upon me, I stumbled to my feet.

"You alright to get home?" The bartender asked. I half understood, shooting her a smile and a wave as I exited the pub.

The lights of Boston's Faneuil Hall were few and far between, but I had walked these streets every day for three years... maybe not in my current condition, but I felt I could manage the intoxicated stroll. I hummed a tune as I walked down a back alley, taking a shorter but darker route home.

Suddenly, from behind, I heard some rustling near some crates I had just passed. I spun around, nearly falling to the ground and shouted.

"Who's there?" I asked in a raspy voice. No one answered. Surrounded by brick walls and junk on either side, The only dim light came from a street lamp at the other end of the alley, casting my shadow across the gravel path in the direction I had come. I turned back around, weary of the noise and desperately fleeting the safety of the lamp.

In front of me stood, what I thought at the time, a man. He was dressed in a very expensive-looking suit, black with a deep crimson necktie. No words were exchanged between us, only the fateful bite. In an instant he was atop me with my head turned so far to the right my chin had passed my shoulder. I screamed for help as he sank his teeth in to my jugular. No one heard my cries, if so, they were too afraid to answer. The creature began to feed from me and in a matter of moments I felt weak and tired from the blood loss.

"Please..." I whispered, and to my surprise, he withdrew from draining me. He backed his face away slowly, but still held me pinned to the ground. I got a better glimpse of his face then. He was as pale as ash, save his blood stained lips. His eyes appeared solid black, even the whites, but changed to a more human form as he exhaled a cold, satisfied breath. They were a bright yellow, almost golden.

"Please?" He whispered back. "What is there to plead over, and should I care? Do you heed the cries of livestock as you slaughter them in anticipation of a meal of beef? Do you?" The creature asked.

"I don't want to die. I have..." As I fought to speak, the alley became darker and darker. The creature began speaking again, but I was too far gone to hear, I was falling in to nothingness.