• Chapter 1

    I couldn’t tell if I was happy or sad. Angry or frightened. I could feel the life leaving my body. I was dying, and there was nothing I could do. I could no longer feel the cold stone hard ground of the tower I was being kept in. My skin was as cold as ice and all the warmth that I had felt before vanished. “Why had this happened to me? What have I done to deserve this?” I kept asking myself these questions over and over again. “Why was I chosen instead of my friends? What is happening to my body?” My questions were soon to be answered as the tall black figure came through the tower door and walked up the stairs to the room I was in. He stood there in the shadows staring at me with a grin on his face as if he had done the greatest thing ever. I wanted to get up and hit him with all my might. Using all the strength left in me, I tried to get up but I just fell helplessly to the ground.
    “Struggle little one. You can’t escape my wrath,” said the figure stepping into the light. He was a vampire. An immortal being that no one thought to be in existence.
    “What have you done to me?” I asked him. I wanted to throw my hardest punch at him.
    “You’re beginning your transformation into a vampire. You’re going to be my heir. A good, strong, handsome boy who will get all that I possess when I die.” He crossed over to the other side of the room to grab a sword.
    “What are you going to do?” I asked horrified as he strode towards me. He bent over and started to stroke my cheek.
    “I’m so sorry that it has to end this way my darling,” he said, and to my horror, he sliced his head off. It rolled off his neck and towards my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. How could he leave me like this? I knew so little to being a vampire. That night all I could do was cry myself to sleep.

    I am a vampire. Long black hair, amazing green eyes, deep accent and pasty white skin. I was no longer a mortal. I started to drink blood, roam the streets at night, and sleep in coffins when daylight shone. We are like the living dead. We move among the living, not showing our true identity. For centuries I have walked among the living and I have done whatever I felt like doing. I would have my fun with those foolish mortals not knowing their death was soon to come. My little black heart only beats once I feed upon human blood that fills my cold, dead body with a glorious warmth that I yearn for each and every day.
    Judas is my name. Life was never better since I was turned into a vampire. I could steal whatever I wanted and basically became a murderer. I still remain one today although nobody knows. They think I’m a rock god. I’ll get to that part later on in the story of my life. I was walking down Marlington Avenue one gloomy night. I was just at a bar drinking with my friends and we were walking to another friends house for a party. My friends didn’t understand me. The things that I did were weird to them. I was always being held back by something and couldn’t do things with them all the time. My mother left my father when I was very young. I didn’t have a mother to love me and take care of me. She didn’t tell us where she was going and we never saw her again. I think she could’ve gone to stay with a distant relative for a while until she had the money to buy a house.
    We were never poor or rich. Our family was middle class civilians in Finland. The weather was cold but we would go out hunting and bring back animals for food and wood for fire. My father had come down with a vile cold once in a while every now and then. I would stand by his bed and try to comfort him in his time of need. One day the flu got the better of him and he suffered a lot, then died.
    One day I was outside of our house. Our town was very small. It was on the outskirts of Finland and very few people lived there. There was never much excitement there and I often grew bored of its people and the pub that I would go to once in a while to have a drink of wine. While I was outside, something caught my eyes. I stared out into the forest that it was near and saw that it was moving. It must have been an animal. I looked away and continued to clean my musket. A few minutes later I looked back up. I started to move closer. It must have spotted me. I got up, musket in hand and I started to move cautiously towards the figure. As I got closer and closer to the figure, my heart stopped beating and I was frozen on the spot. I couldn’t’ believe who I saw. It was Morte.
    Morte was an old friend of the family. I grew to love him as a brother until his dying day which came quickly a few decades before his time was supposed to come. I will tell you about how he died later. Morte had always been there for me in my time of need. I loved him. He was one of the only people of whom I’ve ever loved. He had long blonde hair and soft blue eyes. His eyes were kind and gentle. His expression never changed when he got angry but if you looked into his eyes you could see the anger.