The fireplace is roaring in front of me as I read. The swaying orange flames are the only light in the room and they cast my shadow onto the stone walls.
Everything about the fire makes my kind uncomfortable. The heat. The light. The ash.
It’s a reminder of what we no longer have and what we will eventually become.
The heat irritates my skin and makes it feel raw. The light burns my sensitive eyes and makes my blood feel thick.
I prefer the darkness. The sweet coldness that permeates this castle. That’s comfort. That’s where I belong.
Every so often, I burn a fire to keep myself from forgetting the old me. The human version that came into this world all those years ago.
I can’t forget what I was and how good the warmth used to feel. The fire reminds me.
It prevents me from completely succumbing to the bitter cold. From fully becoming the monster that I am now.
A part of me longs for the past. For my old body.
It’s not so much my feeble bones and fragile heart that I miss, but the touch of another. The humanity is what I miss. The loving touches, eye contact from across a crowded room, a hug, a kiss, holding another warm hand. That’s what I miss.
Vampires can’t be around humans and almost all of my kind are dead. The Czarina Coven has taken care of that.
I’ve been on my own for decades, but I’ve been lonely for centuries.
Sometimes, I wish that the vampire who turned me had just left me for dead. I would be in the blissful quiet nothingness now, instead of suffering in pain.
I shift in my seat and feel my bones aching. I try to focus on the words in the book, but my stomach is growling. It’s angry. Snarling and demanding nourishment.
The blood of a human can sustain a vampire for five years, but after that, he must eat.
It’s been six years since I’ve tasted the blood of a human, and it feels like I’m dying.
When I first turned, I fed on criminals. Murderers, rapists, any evil person I could find. I would sink my fangs into their necks and drink them dry.
I was addicted. Obsessed with the metallic taste of the blood. Possessed with the way it felt as it flowed through my veins, making me stronger, making me faster. I fed weekly back then.
And I started to lose my grip on humanity.
I became a bloodthirsty monster.
It was only when I began thirsting over the innocent that I changed. It was Christmas Eve almost two hundred years ago. I remember it vividly.
The young girl looked so warm all wrapped up with a smile on her face. She was excited for Christmas and singing a song about Santa Claus. My mouth watered as I imagined sinking my teeth into her innocent flesh and drinking her warmth.
I took a few steps toward her when I caught myself.
That’s when it all changed. She smiled at me and it all came crashing down. I realized what I had become and I didn’t like it.
The human side of me had vanished, drowned in the blood of every person that had nourished me. I vowed to change. To eat only when absolutely necessary and only off the most evil of people.
I left Europe and came to America. I had this castle built in the middle of the forest and kept it hidden from everyone I could.
And here I’ve sat for longer than any being on this planet should sit. Wasting away with nothing to live for.
I finish the fourth chapter of Candide and then watch the flames as they lick and curve around the logs.
My body is reacting to the fire in a strong way this evening. Instead of making my insides feel all thick and sluggish, it feels warm and comforting.
I stare at the flames in confusion. My body has been cold for centuries and now it’s starting to warm up…
I don’t understand.
With my mind racing, I stand up and walk around the room. An unfamiliar energy is surging through me. I feel like I could punch through the stone walls and sprint up a mountain.
My teeth extend into fangs and start aching.
Oh…
It’s then that I realize why my body is reacting so strongly. It’s not the fire. There’s someone in the castle.
My body wants to eat. It wants nourishment.
It’s giving me the last of its strength so I can take down my prey and feed from their innocent veins.
The pull is irresistible and I find myself opening the door and walking out into the hallway.
The smell hits me hard and my legs nearly buckle.
Blood. But not just regular old blood.
Virgin blood.
My stomach groans as I place a hand on the cold stone wall.
Everything narrows in focus. The blood is all I can think about.