The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I did not see David when I awakened, nor could I find him as I ventured throughout the building. I was also on the hunt, the hunger turning worse with each hour. It was foolish of myself to have withheld it for far longer then what was necessary. Finally, I made it outside, onto cobblestone streets with its putrid smells invading my senses. My ears twitched upon hearing the high pitched sound of a violin play, its melody inviting as I began to follow it. There were the humans of the night within the streets, scattered throughout as they were oblivious to what stalked through their domain.

I could see them, other vampires in New Orleans. They were easy to sense, for we all almost smell the same. Imagine the musty smell of your basement, mixed with roses, and the scent of blood. That's what a vampire smells like. And to me, it is quite unpleasant.

As I grew closer to the source of music, I suddenly stopped. There I spotted him, sitting beneath an awning as he was at a small table. Surrounded by women, presumably prostitutes. He took a sip from a wine glass as his eyes met mine. Giovanni. I can remember fear engulfing myself as my eyes locked upon his horribly scarred face. His silken dark hair now almost gnarled as he gave me a sadistic grin. Giovanni tsked as he shook a bony finger towards my direction, his jagged teeth showing. But as I stepped back, Giovanni was no longer there. In his place was an older man who was drunk and laughing. He did not even notice me as I began to edge away and disappear once more into darkness.

It was the beginning of the many flashbacks of Giovanni, now known as PTSD. I made my way towards the pier to where I first stepped foot onto American soil and had met David. And there he was, playing his violin as mortals passed by. Some stop to pass by and toss a few coins into his upside down hat. But I knew the real reason why David was there. I grabbed his shoulder as he suddenly startled and nearly dropped his instrument. He turned to face me while raising a brow and pursing his lips.

"My boy, what are you doing here? Are you not suppose to sup yourself before it's too late?"

David hissed as I was clearly shivering. I nodded my head but raised my hand to stop him as he was about to speak again. "I saw him, I saw him, David. I have seen Giovanni, and he's very much alive." I couldn't help but wring my hands together as I spoke, nearly panicking as David ushered me off the pier and walked me towards an inn. We both sat at a rough wooden table as he suddenly grasped my face with both hands and stared into my eyes. "Where was he? Where did you see the bastard?"

He asked in a harsh, but serious tone. I couldn't help but close my eyes as I was in tears. "At one of the fancier bars of the city, with prostitutes, but David....when I was to make my escape he disappeared and there sat an old man in his place. What does this mean? What could this mean? He's out to drive me mad!" I suddenly burst out into tears as patrons drawn their attention to us. David cursed himself as he tried to give a reassuring smile to them. But his smile turned sour as he faced me and gripped my shoulders. "I do not sense Giovanni, Sangue, he is not here. I would feel him in my veins just like how I feel you."

I suddenly was confused, I knew that I saw him. But then David proceeded to explain to me how my nightmares could manifest into reality. He to went through it. And it was something that you had to learn to live with, or else otherwise it would drive you insane. Later that night we both went on the hunt for blood and filled both of our bellies as we could feel the blood sloshing around within. Content with myself, I allowed David to lead me throughout New Orleans, showing I the wonders of the city. As a vampire then I never truly took the time to appreciate the night's beauty nor wonders for myself. For I have always been in my home, shying away until the next time I needed to feed.

Then David showed me something wonderful, the gift of flight.
Now I only knew that I could levitate, but flying? That was out of the question. Something I thought that only the oldest of vampires could do. But David took both of my hands and told me to think, to think like a bird that's about to take off. At first, it was tricky, for I felt foolish as imagined myself with a pair of wings and taking off like a dove. But suddenly I realized that my feet weren't touching the ground and that David and I were beginning to float up and up until he gripped both of my hands and gave me a joyous smile. "Come on Sangue, come to fly away with me!"

With that said we both took off into the star-filled night, the wind going against us both as I could feel it play through my hair. Our coats billowed behind us as our top hats fell from our heads and down to the streets below us. But David only laughed as he embraced me, his arms securely around my torso as we began to twirl within the air. I had never had this much fun in years, nor have I ever felt so close to anyone since Giovanni bit me. The David let go as he dived below and spread out his arms, beckoning me to follow with his eyes pleading.

I obliged as I laughed out loud and burst into a joyous shout. A few minutes later we were back to the building where my own apartment was within. I never wanted this moment to end, but the sun was rising once again as we both hurried. Now there was no time left, and David was already tired. So we both fell onto my bed and curled within the sheets and blankets.
Thankfully the curtains were closed, or else we would have both turned to ash! That night is my only fond memory and when I truly felt happiness.

"I met Giovanni during the dark ages when man still tortured one another for the pettiest of crimes. Where disease and famine were rampant. I was a poor farm boy at the time and starving. Sometimes I wish I had starved to death instead of seeking him."

David spoke, sitting across from me as was settled into a chair by my bedside. The moonlight illuminated his form as he appeared ghostly with his pale skin and greying hair.

"My parents fell ill, and there was nothing I could do to cure them. And I too was growing weak with each passing day. When I first heard of Giovanni, it was from a group of people in the village square. He was said to be a saint, a healing saint at that and worked with the hand of God."

He sighed deeply, shaking his head silently. There was a solemn look to his face, with regret in his eyes. David took out a pipe from his coat and lit it ablaze before taking a few puffs. "Of course I believed them, I was desperate enough. It was easy to seek David, and when I found him, I made the biggest mistake of my life.

He greeted me with a warm welcome, and when I spoke of my problems he seemed to have understood. I was a vulnerable child before him and he took advantage of it by beckoning me into his arms and taking away my soul. The bite was a horrible feeling, I felt as if my whole body was ablaze. And then it stopped."

David released a puff of smoke, its bittersweet scent mixing with the musty scent of the room. "My innocence was stolen that night, no more was the God-fearing farm boy whom my parents raised. My child, do you know that when you bite someone against their will, it is considered assault? But it doesn't equal to the mortals we feed on, for they won't live to remember."

I watched David, nodding my head slowly. The same thing happened to I, it drew me closer in trust towards David. "I don't think Giovanni wanted a fledgling, I think he desired a plaything whom he could bend to his will. And that was me, for a very long time. I never saw my parents again, but I know that they succumbed to their illness, and it was my fault for falling into his trap."

He leaned back, his chest heaving up as if he took a deep breath. It was ragged and raspy like he had never used his windpipes for years until now. I sat and listened to his story with the faint feeling of dread. I knew now that Giovanni had tortured other people, in the same way as he did towards me. In a twisted way, it was comforting to know that I wasn't the only one who suffered at his hands. David took another deep puff of smoke before it whirled around his face and streamed from his open mouth and nostrils. He looked like a dragon.

"I managed to escape during the hours of daylight. His power over my mental state had weakened, and I was ready for freedom. I haven't seen nor heard from Giovanni for over three hundred years, and I intend to keep it that way until the day I ultimately die."

I could now see that David was depressed. The vampire who greeted me at the docks with his playful fiddle was no longer sitting before me. It was the real David, a damaged soul who fell victim to the curse that I and many others have suffered. "Now, my boy, tell me your story. Daylight is approaching soon and we have limited time not that the night is retiring."

I told my story with caution, still not fully trusting in David. The last time I placed my trust with a vampire, well, its where I am now. My wrists are nearly raw as I write this, forgive me whoever reads this for the blood that is almost everywhere on each page. The chains and cuffs are unforgiving. Back to David, sweet old David, it was foolish of me to shut him out during our first meeting face to face. I still haven't forgiven myself, even thou David became one of my closest companions.

David looked towards the window as the sun was now slowly rising. He stood up to close the heavy curtains, blocking out the deadly light in which would cause any vampire out in its grip to have a slow and excruciating death. He bid his parlance and left through the apartment door. I returned to bed and buried myself under the covers as sleep was coming upon me. Darkness clawed at my eyes before suddenly I succumbed to my daytime slumber, only to awaken the next night with a pang of hunger within in my stomach and same old painful bowel feeling, I must feed.

I have formally met David upon my third week in New Orleans. Using the money Giovanni had, I bought myself an apartment that was pleasing to the mortal eye. But to me, it was small, cramped, and the smell of human waste invaded my senses upon every waking hour. What I had not known was David owned the apartment and the many others in which the high class had rented and bought to enjoy a comfortable stay in a rather filthy city.

Another myth about our people is that we need to be formally invited to enter your home. That is a lie and I still do not know why mortals still spread it. David entered everybody's apartment on his own whim, even if you were asleep in bed. Apart from playing his violin for others and mingling within crowds, he was fascinated with watching people sleep.

I learned this the hard way when I have awoken to his face staring into mine. His eyes were pure red, with a pair of slits replacing his pupils. If I was still human, I would have screamed. But as a vampire, I couldn't help but be curious. I caressed his face, stroking the claw upon my thumb over his cheek. But suddenly his hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, jerking it down as I could hear bone snap.

"You are not human."

He muttered out the words. David dropped my other wrist as he suddenly held my face. There was a simple nod from before his hands went down to my neck and begin to squeeze! I wheezed in agony, for I was not starved for air, but rather my very muscles were being crushed by this old man. I could only stare up before he suddenly released me. "Get out! These are my humans, my grounds, be gone with you before I-"

David abruptly stopped, his eyes narrowed towards my coat in which was hung over a chair close by. Like a feline, he bounced off of the bed and swiftly picked it up. With a look of disgust he growled, clenching it in his fist as he turned towards the fireplace, and at that moment I watched it come to a blaze all on its own. His glare turned to me as he tossed it into the flames. The remnants of the life I had before, the trophy in which I earned with my freedom, was now becoming ashes.

"How the hell did you acquire Giovanni's coat? That wretched
bastard, scoundrel...damned pervert."

David ranted, tossing his hands into the air. I was shocked, frozen stiff as he had said my sire's name. Then he turned towards me with his angered eyes.

"You....where is he? Where is Giovanni, I will not have him nor his filthy blood in my building!"

Having enough of his rant, I finally spoke up. "Giovanni is dead!" With that said, David fell silent. He moved his lips to speak but I silenced him with a raise of my hand. "Enough, Giovanni was killed when his own home became engulfed with flames, and I made sure that he had not made it out-"

I suddenly became silent, in my half-asleep stupor I revealed that I had murdered another vampire, breaking our society's most prominent lawyers. David growled out "Your words are lies, for I can still feel the old bastard!"

That is when I noticed both hideous scars upon his neck. My sire never took care of his fledglings during their first stage of vampirism. And the two cysts on David's neck had burst. "Who are you?" I asked David, narrowing my eyes towards him this time as I pushed him off of myself and risen from the cotton sheets. Levitating above, I used my horrible stare to look into his eyes. David scoffed at me, crossing his arms. He took a seat in a chair closest to the bed. "If you are done with your tantrum, I shall tell you who I am. But get down from there at once."

I obeyed, nearly falling onto the bed as the impact caused feathers to scatter about. David looked more annoyed than angered, sighing as he crossed his legs and rested his chin upon the back of his hand. "I shall tell you my story if you promise the same."

I reluctantly nodded, before leaning closer as I sat down and perked up my pointed ears.

Just as I have witnessed the beginning of the plague, I have also seen its end. A new century had begun. No more were we in the seventeenth century, for a new one was starting. I left my beloved Italy in pursuit of a new beginning. Just as the century turned, I morphed along with it. I took my departure from Italy and traveled to England.

I have caught word of London's innovations. I do admit, it was heartbreaking abandoning all that I had ever known. But I was also disdainful of Verona after the years of abuse, that I had suffered through by the hands of my sire. Now, they are nothing more than memories. Easily forgotten. But back then, they were deep wounds that refused to heal.

Throughout my journey to London, I have encountered a few interesting characters. Some of whom had influenced me into who I am today. The one who made the biggest impact was an old vampire named David. I encountered David upon arriving at the wrong destination. The ship that was supposed to bring myself to London instead brought me to the shores of America.
Twas midnight, the passengers exiting the ship upon a rough wooden ramp. I believe we had stepped foot in New Orleans if my memory is as sharp as it was back in my youth. Unaware to the immigrants there was a vampire amongst them. starved of human blood, but sustained by the blood of rats. But on the docks, another predator was about. Lurking amongst the crowds as a beggar.

I watched him play his fiddle. The music was quite cheerful, his old limbs dancing along to the merry little toon. I listened to his ragged shoes tap against the wood. For a split moment, my senses did not pick up upon his true nature. For his skin was dirty, clothing was torn, and eyes dreadfully dull. But there seemed to be a life within them as he continued on. I became intrigued, having not seen another one of my kind since Verona.
Swiftly I moved towards him, my cloak swaying as I almost floated with excitement. Our eyes locked suddenly, and the old man who seemed to be carefree, goofy at the most, turned sharp. His glare was cold as a raspy voice in my head told me to return to the ground, and get out of the sight of the few humans who were now dwindling in number.

Startled, I suddenly made my way off the docks and towards the seaside town. This was not London. I realized this with devastation. But I could not dwell on it, the sun was rising and I needed shelter. Luckily there was a small, rundown inn nearby. But it was filled to the brim with immigrants. Barely was I lucky to receive a room? The next night, all was silent. From where I lied there was no noise. Just the occasional sound of the wood creaking beneath myself as I shifted my own body on the hay-filled mattress.

Have you ever had your own mind frayed? I am not speaking of being exhausted, but actually having your subconscious fraying at the ends. It is hard for me to explain, but I couldn't think properly. It was either an overwhelming fear of being burned alive or constantly starving.

Waiting for the right moment to catch your next meal in which you wouldn't receive for the next few weeks. I have lost the thoughts that made me feel human and was clinging to the very few I had remaining. Arising from my bed, I finally was able to see my own surroundings. For this morning I barely paid attention as my own body was forcing itself into sleep. But then I could see where I was. It was a small room, with a rough wooden floor and walls that were made from logs. The bed I used was old with a fraying mattress that was clearly stained.
As I stood up, my heightened senses picked up the scurrying of rats and their faint squeaks. Making my way across the room, I came to a mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. I poured water into the basin that was left for me and splashed the cold water onto my face. Against my dead skin, it felt wonderful. But within the reflection I could that my skin had grown whiter. The pang of hunger turned into a great sensation as I realized how little blood I had within myself.

Without even thinking, I turned around to leave the room. Hoping to find a decent meal, someone that nobody would miss hence I did not want to cause a stir within where I immigrated. At least not yet. Beforehand I had gotten dressed in the clothing which I had brought with, including my sire's own coat in which was elegant in itself. I should have worn something simple to blend in, for heads turned when I walked down the streets. But my sire's coat was like a trophy, of how I escaped from him and gained my freedom. If anyone understands that is.

The night was damp, a fine mist showering down upon the earth. I could smell the grime of humans and the filth in which covered the streets. It caused my nose to scrunch up. The most pungent of smells came from a tavern that I came upon, it was the perfect place to find my next victim. For drunks always ended up dead sooner or later.

I took a deep breath, wheezing softly as I had not used my own lungs for a long time. The moment I stepped in I almost recoiled from the smell of alcohol. The inside had tables scattered across with dimly lit candles on some. There were lanterns hanging from the rafters. Across the single room was a bar with a dark wood top and a disgruntled looking bartender.

I ignored those who came near me, for I was determined to have a decent meal since my boarding on the ship. But then I spotted him, the vampire I was greeted by at the docks. He was seated in the darkest corner, sitting upon a stool while having a cigarette hanging from his mouth. The violin in which he played before was laid across his lap. I couldn't help but notice the two large scars across his neck, where our own kind had bitten him at one point.

I was about to speak with him upon coming close until he suddenly rose to his feet, picking up his violin swiftly and then beginning to play. It was sweet, exquisite to the ears. I could tell that he was careful when it came to his craft, for I heard no wrong note from himself. But why play in a place such as this? My answer came when a few people heard the music and begin to dance, men, taking women into the arms as they swayed around with the tune picking up its own pace.

It caused me to tap my own foot, to grin excitedly while it moved my spirit. After a few minutes, he finally stopped, taking a young woman by the arm as he gave a grin to her with his perfect white teeth. Unusual for the people in this area. Then I finally saw his ploy, a dirty trick if you ask me. I had only seen it once in Verona, with a vampire from France who used his charm and beauty to attract others. This one here was using his own music. I could safely determine the fate of that young woman as I sat at the bar.

I myself had no tricks nor ploys to attract my victims. I just took what I could and that would be the end of it. Swiftly and without mercy, for I was not the type to play with my food. I ordered a beer, sipping it while gazing across the room. At a table sat an older man with a weathered face and stained beard. One of the lower class, I was sure no one would miss him. After an hour or so, I followed him out and stuck close to the shadows, concealing myself from his human gaze. Underneath the light of the moon, he stood, gazing up as he heard a noise from above.
What he did not hear was fabric hissing as I descended from the air, landing upon his shoulders before listening to an audible crack. The drunkard screamed in agony for only a moment before he was suddenly silent. My painful hunger was subdued, relief having been brought by gushing warm blood. The soft drizzle now turned into pouring rain as I could hear thunder booming above.

I looked up with my mouth gaped open and closed my eyes. Letting the down poor wash away the blood in which stained my face and the many years of sins I have committed against our creator. Tears rolled down my face, the first time within a century I sobbed.

Now it is not entirely a myth that vampires sleep in coffins, for they did up until the end of the Victorian era. Now it is seen as obsolete. Being described as sleeping in coffins is also quite offensive to a few. My first time in a coffin was horrid. I felt claustrophobic as my body was trapped. I could feel its rough wooden surface create splinters as I struggled. If that wasn't bad enough, the two cysts where my sire had bit, finally burst. The horrid stench of puss filled the confined space. I released a cry of agony which was met with his fist pounding against the lid. I suddenly realized that my life would be dictated by this lunatic. How did I know? It was a feeling deep within my own body that I could not explain.

My fate than was determined as I heard a piano play softly. Every single key he had stroked pounded inside my head. When you are reborn as a vampire, your own hearing becomes painfully sensitive. The faintest of sounds could cause you to cringe in pain. Even after weeks, months of being turned, you will not stand even a pin dropping. He knew this. He knew my condition, the pain I was in, and how I was forced to feast on corpses. My sire had placed me in so much peril, and the reason why you may ask? Well, like I said before. I myself have no answer, but I believe that he was lonely. Soon the music had stopped and I could feel my body grow weak.

My whole being screamed at me to shut down, hibernate for the sun was rising. But I was too frightened. As I laid inside my prison, it begins to shake. His body, I could hear, sprawled across the coffin. Heavy breaths caused me to grimace. Never have I felt so humiliated in my long, wretched life. Finally, I surrendered and succumbed to the darkness swallowing me up. my sire's obsession with myself was evident. Never could I have been alone with his constant presence. This was a burden for when I was deprived of my own dignity. I admit that he had dressed me such as the wealthy, and our living was a far cry from those in the streets such as I was. But I was a prisoner.
Leaving was out of the question, for I had none of the skills that a vampire needed. Cliche it sounds, for it had been overused for centuries, but the bloodlust created a danger to mortal men. My very own morals won over my freedom. I suppose he wouldn't have allowed me to leave. One night we were both on his balcony, overlooking the ocean as waves crashed below us. The moon was full as she had shone down upon the both of us. Our bodies were entangled with one another, bare skin against the cold stone. It was a sin in this time and age, but why would we care? Haven't we already fallen from the Lord's grace?

"How many times must I tell you, why must I repeat?"
He asked softly. His fingers entwined into my hair, yanking softly so that my neck would be exposed. I knew what was to come next, and deep inside I shuddered. The feedings were forceful, painful, and degrading. I had no rights in our relationship, slave and master so to speak. Or at least that is what I thought. Suddenly, I had felt the same pain, the pain that was expected but yet I was still of no use to. To this day I still shudder when my neck is touched. He was rough, vile with how he fed. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Feeding on another vampire without their consent is the equivalent of sexual assault. With each day I was violated. His act was finished, and the pain was over. He carried me back to our shared coffin. I could not look into his face as he did so mine. For this man was not only insane, but a true monster. We laid there that night with dried blood between us, stained against our skin and stained on my soul.

I shall spare you from the worst of details, for some things that went on between us should never be spoken about. It is the least of dignity I have left. For many years I was trapped with Giovanni, learning and growing stronger, but not strong enough to be independant of him. Our relationship had grown to be more intimate, even if society did not allow it.

The night I escaped from Giovanni, was a night I shall never forget. The feeling of being finally free, like a bird released from its cage for the first time in all its life. I felt the ecstasy, the rush, and fear of being on my own. It started as a spark of rage from my sire. Having been lit as he accused me of wondering out into the night without him. For when he opened my coffin, I was not inside. Of course, I wanted a taste of freedom, for the many years were miserable enough. I have thought of myself grown enough as a vampire to be able to see our own world. But it was met by his own form punishment which turned into a fight for my own life.

Upon my return I found him on the balcony, still and silent as his figure loomed over. His face was stoic, no expression, empty of emotion. Like a ticking time bomb, he did not go off until the very last second. Upon reaching for him, he snapped. His fangs baring with a low hiss escaping. A gloved hand grabbed for my wrist and snapped the bone as he jerked it over. I cried out in pain but was only silenced. I had not realized his intentions until there was a murderous gleam in Giovanni's eyes.

They turned black upon his attack. It was too late to avoid his wrath, for half of my face was torn off by his claws. I still remember the searing pain of my own skin being ripped off. The flesh underneath exposed. In a blind side of rage, I lashed out back at him with my free hand digging into his eyes. They were torn out of his skull with the stolen blood of mortals pouring out of its sockets.

This was my liberation, my freedom which had been granted. But I took it with reaching into the fireplace, pulling out a burning piece of kindling like a torch and setting my blinded sire on fire. But alas, he survived. I would not have known this until the trial. Giovanni was sure to have been destroyed as the flames consumed our once, plush, home. I took my leave upon running with madness into the night. Smeared in blood with only half of a face, twas glorious. For people now feared me, instead of I fearing them and living as a house pet. I have caused a group of men on the streets to scream in terror. Their high pitched shrills gave me a thrill that I couldn't have imagined was ever possible. I feasted upon their fresh blood until I could no more. That very night I took on a metamorphosis and transformed into a true monster.

||Thought I'd share some chapters of the book I'm writing.||

The years pass by like grains of sand in an hourglass. Agonizingly slow with each passing day, a far cry from how a writer would describe my people. It would be a dream, a wish fulfillment for it to go swiftly by and bring us closer to death who awaits us with its welcoming, open arms. I have seen how the mortals often described us and the life we live. There is no glamour, no beauty, nor charm.
An only pure tragedy with so many flaws to our being. There is nothing beautiful about falling from God's grace. I am both ashamed and outraged about how the modern world percieves vampires such as myself, spreading lies and turning humans gullible as they fall into a trap. I have taken it upon myself to inform future generations of the unspoken and forgotten world of the true night creatures. Let my story be a warning to those who are lusting for a life in which would soon make them seek death itself.

My rebirth took place within the country of Italy, during the time in which many had fallen victim to the Black Death. Or what we know now as the bubonic plague. I myself was a coward, fearful of dying a horrific death such as my beloved wife and daughter. I know now that I should have gone with them. But alas I was no more but a fool. A young man who was but a boy inside.
My desire to live have outweighed what I know now would have been right. To bury me along with my small family. But how is an ungrateful fool such as myself supposed to know that while barely above the cusp of manhood? This was when I met my sire, a tall and elegant older gentleman who had the darkest hair and fairest skin of Verona. He was unaffected by the plague, having others believe that he was in God's favor. Including myself.
I sought him out so I could have a chance to avoid the Lord's wrath, even if I was a peasant at the time. I can still remember it as it was a muggy summer night. The stench of death risen from the bodies piled in the streets. Amidst the foulness he stood, arms wrapped around a young man. His back was facing me while I watched him a feast. Back then I did not know what he was doing, but as a human, I had been drawn to such chaos. Well, I myself would not call the death of a mortal chaos but primal instinct told me otherwise. That is when I have uncovered the ghastly truth of how he survived the disease which struck and killed hundreds, if not thousands.
He realized I was watching him when his head jerked up, blood seeping into a crimson pool beneath them both. That gorgeous, chiseled face, that most of the women fell for, turned ghastly. In its place was a pair of dark eyes and a pair of yellow, jagged fangs. Blood was smeared across his lips, chin, and cheeks. I was staring at the face of a corpse. I did what any man would and ran, knowing that he would pursue me, I hid in an alley. Covered by pitch black darkness, I thought he could not see me. But now I know my kind can pierce through the blackest of darkness with their keen sight. Even thou my odds of being found were heavy, he did not pursue any further.

When I returned home that night I simply went to sleep, thinking that this was all a nightmare and that I would wake up to the usual bellows calling for corpses. This is how we capture you, we simply come when least expected. There is no invitation, that myth about vampires is foolish. We do not give warning, we are cheaters to when it comes to getting what we want.
You can ask any vampire, even some of the purest of blood and they will say the same thing such as I, a dirty blood states as mere fact. When I awoke, my whole body burned from the inside out. I was plastered in sweat while all of my veins threatened to burst through my skin.

But that was not the worse. When I went to splash water on my face, I noticed two puncture marks on the side of my neck. Both were still fresh looking as pus leaked out. If you are not careful, bite marks can become infected with their own disease transmitted by the sire and swell to the size of golf balls before finally bursting out, and leaving two horrid scars that shall remain on your skin forever.

For days I have suffered to where it felt like I was the victim of the plague. My skin was pale while the appearance of my body was grotesque, black liquids were seeping out of everywhere as the stench was horrid. I dared not to venture outside in this condition, nor I couldn't for I was bedridden. Sooner or later, somebody would find my corpse.

The last final phase of turning is the hunger. Do you know how it feels when you are starved? Multiply that by one thousand, add the heat of a fever, and every single muscle in your body tearing itself apart. Now I still had my morals, but my dignity was nonexistent. Desperation caused me to slip out in the night, unseen with only corpses as witnesses.

They were my first victims. I still remember the putrid taste and how easily their flesh torn. They were rotten of course. The cysts upon their bodies bursting with the faintest of touch. Those disease-ridden corpses would be the source of drink in which kept me alive. I endured days of agony, due to myself being repulsed by consuming the blood of the already dead. But when it became too much I had no choice. It was either to feast on corpses during my weakened state or else, children.

I am no monster, I can tell you that now. My own decisions are based upon my morals, for I still have kept my humanity. Most vampires chose to leave it behind due to the traumas their new life can lead. During the phase before my sire, I was a ghoul. No one in the city had caught on to what was happening to the bodies.

But my sire had, for he watched as I suffered. There was no intervention as I struggled to manage my very existence. It was a test to decide whether I would survive or not and if I was worthy of his own teachings. To this day I do not know why I was chosen, for my sire was a madman. After the course weeks, he finally deemed me worthy enough to claim.
It was another typical night, the moon was high on her perch while shining down, illuminating the streets below. I stepped out of my home while wrapped in a tattered cloak. Hiding in the shadows, I used them to my advantage not to be seen, silently making my descent towards the nearest corpse I could smell.
By now I have grown accustomed to this vile act. I can remember the corpse being still fresh, having passed during the hours of daylight. Even tho, it did not sit in the hot sun and become putrid, the disease was still evident. I still grimaced upon the nights I fed. The blood was still disgusting as ever. Above myself, I heard a soft flutter.
Suddenly I felt a large hand grasp around my neck. Roughly, I was jerked up and came face to face with my sire. His eyes were blazing like embers, amber in color with blackness ebbing around them. Rows of hideous fangs were inches away from my face. He was like a statue, still and silent. I was fearful of what was to happen next. My face was plastered into a mask of horror. My heart would have been pounding if it was alive.
"Pathetic is what you are, ghoulish corpse eater. Not one of my finest creations, but you have too much resilience to waste."

His voice was smooth, deep and calloused. There was no emotion to it. But I could feel his own rage. Suddenly he had a look of disgust. I remember being over his shoulder as he took off into the night, leaping into the air with a powerful force. He danced from roof to roof with his graceful movements. No one would still believe that such a man in Verona existed. Not even I, if I wasn't here telling you my life, that is. Just as swiftly as we had left, we arrived at where he lurked about during the daylight. Before I had a chance to look, to take in my surroundings, a coffin was sealed.