Beaumont Nash: Rebirth...

[Beaumont F Nash (DELETED 6452)]

It was a cold December morning when the when the golden eyes burst open light two flash lights, the man lay on the wooden floor of an apartment dining room. A letter in his sport jacket pocket, his dress pants wrinkled beyond compare. But shoes, no shoes, no socks either, cold air entered his nose and out his mouth. But it seemed that no matter much air he in took, none of it filled his blasted lungs. No oxygen gave his new body any life, and these urges... Kill, murder, the man felt a head ach, the lower kind, the kind a tooth ache would give you. Feeling his fingers around in his mouth he felt them. The fangs that would control him for the next, well, rest of his life. Thinking backwards or at least trying too, nothing came to mind. No past memories, no family pictures staining his frontal lobes, only the urges to feed and kill remained. He looked into the pocked where the slight papery bulge protruded from the jacket pocket of his sport coat. Pulling it out he read the title, "Mr. Nash" followed by the words within:

I had hoped that gift would have killed you, but it seems that you are full of surprises now aren't you. Happy Christmas... Beaumont. "Is his name Beaumont?" Nash asked, "or is mine??" The room was silent as he sat up and looked at his hands, it was blood. Dried, plastered onto his hands, the same red color that was tossed upon the walls of this empty apartment. "What am I, what have I become..." He had to find others like him, he had to find out who did this to him. And the strangest question, "Who is Beaumont Nash???" Who was he.


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[Shan]

She had been in the hall for hours. It was like the time had dragged on, the way her pointer finger had continuously scrolled stupid pinterest images continually. But she sat there, wondering when the control for thirst would set in. Sure, she knew he would be thirsty; that was inevitable; but she also hoped he would show ambition. A drive that would lead him to where he was supposed to go. Who he was supposed to be.

The clock on the wall at the end of the hall flipped to nine o'clock. She swallowed quickly, the sound of the saliva moving in her mouth against her teeth and lips only residing in her head; for no one was taking up residence in the hallways yet. She clenched her jaw, pulling a pack of smokes from her pocket and lighting one up as she stood there, encompassed by what few shadows the hallway had to offer.

She had expected him to be awake by now. Actually, she had expected more, but she also knew that such expectations were for those who had nothing better to do -- which she never wanted to be apart of. She was active, always, even if it was just time spent up at that castle killing what she could get her hands on and managing. Sure, she missed the connections she had forged; but she knew that they were still around and if they weren't then she would have understood why. It was never an issue that she had gone missing, no, but rather that she had never said anything as to if she was okay or not. If others had an issue, it only meant that they cared.

[Beaumont F Nash (DELETED 6452)]

Nash, stood wiping blood into his sport coat before stumbling to the door, the nob was stuck. Normally in a more, "human" state, Nash would have jiggled the handle, or knocked upon the door. But no not here, confusion turned to rage as he ripped the handle from the door forcing himself through. It was as if the whole world around him had changed, a castle lay out was now visible. He looked around at all the stone then turned back looking at the room behind him. It had been a room made of the exact same stone, and outside was the landscape of a darker world then he had imagined to stumble into. "But I was just..." Closing his eyes he saw a flash of memories, a brothers grave, maybe just a close friend, then a flash of red! "That apartment that I saw, it was... Just my memory?"

It was at this moment he noticed the woman sitting near the door, "hello," Nash smiled, "he looked at the note quickly before shoving it back into his inner jacket pocket. "Who are you, and where are we?" The man was confused, probably around his early twenties. He looked at the woman as if she were some sort of evil. Her eyes were the same as his, soulless of some sort. Maybe she was like him, this hunger for flesh, thirst for blood? Could she have it too?? "Do you happen to know why I am here??" He remembered the blood on his hands and tried to hide them from her. Perhaps she would hate him, fear him for it, but she seemed unfazed by it, who was she really???

[Shan]

He wasnt like she had hoped. Not initially. Crimson hues dashed along his frame, up and down, surveying him before snickering and giving him a snide snear. "Harper rock. Canada." She tilted her head and stepped off the wall, placing the lit cigarette between her lips for a drag before speaking again, "What do you think is happening, right now?" She didnt know his name, otherwise she would have used it, but she hadnt taken the time after turning him to check his wallet. She had just done it, as he struck her as something different, something unique, something to be consorting with on her level.

[Beaumont F Nash (DELETED 6452)]

His hand in easily touched the outside of his sport jacket, "beau... Beaumont Nash..." It didn't sound right, he knew somewhere deep down it wasn't his real name but it's not like he had enough memories forged in his thick skull at the moment to remember what his real name was. Or maybe it was Beaumont, even if that was the case why did the word Canada sound so wrong, as if it was a place he had heard of but, "arggg." He fell to a knee, 'First flight from Chicago to Toronto,' people passed by as he looked down at his ticket N. Foxx! He gripped his knee as his nails grew outward slightly as he stood once more, "Beaumont F. Nash, and who are you..."

His tone may have to some, come off as rude. He had so rudeness in his heart for her, there was something about her, not only was she gorgeous, but a smell about her was odd. As if her oder gave off the scent of an elder sister, a family member. It was strong but as far as he knew this woman hadn't been anywhere near related to him. "An explosion," he wasn't forming the words but they flowed out anyway, "the train, or was it a plane?" He stumbled towards her running his hand along the was for balence. Bright explosions lit his mind on fire as his mind went dark again. "You saved me didn't you...? I was in a horrible crash and I would have died if it hadn't been for you..."

[Shan]

Nash. It was a strong last name, in her opinion, and she nodded, clearly approving. He fell to one knee then, spitting out random words and half finished sentences, and she stared at him, her head tipping a little to the side while she tried to understand him. Was he injured, mentally? Had her initial assessment been incorrect? She nodded then, and smiled, fangs prominent as for her, they never went away.

"Yeah well, dont say I never did anything for you." She shrugged a shoulder as if to let his words roll away, and moved on. "You clearly dont understand whats going on. So let me lay it out for you." Her red eyes dashed along the hallway, then to the broken door barely kept up on its busted hinges that led to her apartment.

"Come on. Theres plenty to talk about without prying ears." Her hand pointed to the apartment, and then she was heading into it, past him, not even offering him a hand up. She could sense that this was going to be difficult for her, trying her hand at the whole idea of siring, again. All her others she barely even knew; hell, one of her childer she hadnt actually ever even truly met. She entered the apartment and stood just inside the door, hand splayed with her cigarette pinched between knuckles for him to join her.

[Beaumont F Nash (DELETED 6452)]

Finally standing, finding his footing at last, Nash looked around. "Beaumont F. Nash," his name sickened him, it was as if his tongue was remembering a foul ex-lover and couldn't stop saying her name. But the name was his own, "Nash, what kind of sickness are those words in a row." His feet began pulling him forward, one step after another, pulling his nub body across the hall and into a new room. "My stomach... It is empty," the man put a hand to his abdomen as his other pushed his long white hair over his shoulder. This was a new odd, hadn't his hair been light brown? This detail wasn't as sickening as his name was, still ringing in his mind as a foreign aliment. "You never did tell me about who you were or where you found me??"

Flashes of the crash bounced around his mind, blood everywhere, blood and fire. They were the most familiar things to him right now, a hell of a lot more familiar then his damn name. He looked around her room and realized this was some sort of apartment as well, an apartment like the one he had woken up in. Apartments in a castle, this was just another strange piece that when put all together made up this day. And this was not about to be the last. "Beaumont Freakin Nash... Stupid name," these ideas, spoken out loud were only for him but loud enough for this woman to hear as well. "You never answered my questions Miss, who are you and where did you find me???"

[Shan]

He crossed into the room and practically whined to her that he was hungry. Like he cant do anything about it himself, she thought, "But the thirst is unbearable..." Her thoughts went to those times when she couldnt stop being thirsty, and she frowned, moving to the fridge. Pulling out a contraband blood pack, and throwing it in the microwave after slicing a sharpened nail through it, she turned to lean against the counter and take another long drag off her cigarette. Smoke billowed upwards, and she turned her head until it passed, then looking right at NAsh and smirking. It was a devilish smirk, one that had plenty to convey, and she did just that.

"I am Shan. Shan Trenton Garreth. I am a third generation vampire under Velveteen, in the Andras lineage." She took another drag, "And you, Nash, are a fourth generation, under me." Smoke poured from her lips as she spoke, finally exhaling the rest of it before the microwave beeped. She turned and took the blood bag out, pouring it into a glass from one of the cabinets as she continued. "Your stomach feels empty because you need blood." The mention of blood made her think back to the crash site, where she had found him, and how no one else had survived. She had gone right to him, sensing a certain level of veracity in him, and turned him. "I found you at the train wreck. I think something was on the tracks, like a moose," Her words informed him, "Though I'm not sure about much else. No one else survived, though." She delivered the glass to him with a smirk on her face, "You have a unique story to tell, I can see it."

She never was one to be inquisitive. Or care. She always locked those emotions in the back of her mind like they were a feral animal, something unnatural and vicious to its own nature. She did care, however. She had realized in these very moments, that she was lonely. Everyone she used to talk to kind of faded away, which she understood and couldnt blame them; but she was lonely. And currently, apparently, trying to rectify that.

[Beaumont F Nash (DELETED 6452)]

Taking the glass he moved the liquid around, watching the pink residue stick to the sides of the cup as the blood swished about. "This isn't really... Blood," flashes of his past life continued to plague his mind, "aren't there risks? AIDS, other **** like that, this can't be healthy!" His stomach let out an eruption of hunger and thirst. "I can't, there has to be something else, anything else?" He didn't know it yet but one sip of this would change him. He still had his memories trying to fill in the emptiness, one sip of this would turn him. An addiction that would consume, body, mind, spirit, GONE! All that would remain is a cunning, heartless, hunger. "I don't want it..." He outstretched his hand with the glass in it, but his eyes couldn't break from what he held in his hand, "Beaumont F Nash..." The figure of his past life would never, but it could be said that he wasn't himself anymore.

"So much sin," Beaumont, or the man holding the glass drew it near his body again and took a sip. His eyes went black, his pupils were over taken by this new darkness. "No more," chugging the rest of the drink the glass fell to the ground and shattered. "Sin, so much sin left to drink..." He looked around frantically and with a burst of speed he sprinted towards the fridge and pulled it open! Taking a blood bag in each hand he stuck a fang in each bag sucking out the contents, "Beaumont is dead... Nash... Is dead..." The two bags fell to the ground as he turned to Shan, "I'd say I'm something else entirely... Wouldn't you?"

[Shan]

She smirked at him, at his detesting the drink she had offered him. So he had an attitude, on him, she could grow to like. She didnt reach out to take the glass from him though, and would have insisted he drink it in the long run, but he finally tipped it back and drank it, all gone, in the end. He then dropped the glass, and even though Shan probably could have caught it, she just let it shatter. Millions of tiny shards of glass strewn across the floor, all over the kitchen area, and Shan just stared at them, before turning to look over at Nash, who was clearly thirsty.

She chuckled. "You are reborn, yes." She shrugged, taking another drag off her smoke before plucking it from her lips, shoving her other hand into her back pocket to pull out her band of cash. She always kept a lot on hand, in case something came up, and this was exactly that kind of situation. Flipping through the bills one at a time before pulling a rather large chunk off the billfold, she put it on the counter and replaced her wallet in her back pocket.

"You'll probably be thirsty, for a while. But at some point, you wont be able to drink anymore, despite that feeling. You'll grow used to it." She informed, turning and pulling out a chair from the kitchen table to take a seat, reaching over and ashing in the ashtray there on the middle of the table. "That cash is for you. Use it to buy contraband packs, or whatever. You can feed on humans too." She left out the part about being careful to not be seen. He could figure that out on his own, if he chose that route. No better way to learn, than to have to, in her eyes.