December 20, 2011
Password Protected Document
Topic: Roots
I have neglected you, it seems, old friend. That’s never been my intention, to lose contact with the cathartic and sometimes only sympathetic ear that I’ve been able to rely on these twenty-six years. You’ll forgive me if I seem more dramatic than usual this evening; I had to create a new journal tonight—one that chronicles my life as a vampire and I’ve realized I’m leaving behind everything I used to be as a human and starting something new and I’m afraid it may not be as magnificent as my books have led me to believe.
I was turned October 17th, 2011, in the dead of the night. This was just after we last talked on October 15th. A man named Mircea Grigori approached me on the street and he grabbed my shoulder, and I don’t know what I was thinking. Normally I’d have mumbled uncomfortably and darted away from him in the night but I turned around, and I yelled at him, I pepper sprayed him, I pushed him... something about him made me boisterous, and angry, and confident in myself. He took me to coffee and we spoke, and... well, to make a long story short, I became a vampire. I suppose I’ll tell you the whole story later.
For a month or so, I struggled. I didn’t know who I was, what I was. Was I evil? Was I dead? Alive? In limbo? I drove myself to learn about the history of my new race and I discovered there had been a holocaust, that the vampires were wiped from the face of the earth and that Mircea, my ‘sire’ had been one of the few to survive. I learned how important it was to be careful, to hide my new form, from the humans around me. There’s someone watching us, always. They call him the Crow, and I know he tracks my every movement and he assigns me a bounty each time I screw up.
I think he might be our version of Santa Claus. He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake...
Regardless, our race is currently so small in its numbers that vampires cannot risk exposing themselves. I never noticed vampires in Harper Rock before, but now it seems that the city is teeming with them. Does this mean they’ve been here all this time?
I’ve been told that I have to stay in Harper Rock because if I die, it’ll be easier to come back. Some people have come back in as little as a few hours. Mircea and Habren, they didn’t die in Harper Rock, and it took them two hundred years to find their way out.
The thought of being lost that long scares me.
It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I realized I have a calling as a vampire. I’m meant to hunt. I don’t know why I love it so much, or what sort of god convinced me that it’s a good idea, but I am the Diana of vampires. There is no exhilaration like leveling a weapon and taking careful aim, and that pales in comparison to the primal thrill I’ve gotten from wrestling a mountain lion with my bare hands. I’ve started to take prizes, and relish the feeling of warm blood on my body. I live in the woods sometimes, building little forts of sticks and brush to shield myself from daylight.
The moon calls me to the hunt each evening, and I am no one if I fail to respond.
Mircea told me about the moon being Mater Nox once. During the eclipse, I started to really believe in her. That she spoke to me, the mother of the vampires, and that she calls me to the hunt each night because she wants me to train myself to my true purpose. I see the skills blossom even now as I hunt bounties with my family, and seek those who have done harm to the Grigori. The mother has a path for me. I believe in her now.
I suppose the only thing I’m missing is a lover. Not that I’ve ever had much luck in the area before, but I’m blossoming into something so much more than I’ve ever been. And I come home from hunting, I lay in my bed and I read these novels. These ideals of vampire life do nothing to compare to what this world really is, and I wish I could write of my experiences and become a best-selling author to the truth, but the truth isn’t what the humans want to hear. Even knowing what I read is no reality, I wish, somewhere deep in my soul that it was. That a male would smell me in the forest and he would long for me, and we wouldn’t have to marry or date, or pledge some sort of fealty. We would just know, and we would live as if we’d always known that one soul belongs to the other and no vows could change such a natural, physical destiny.
Maybe I just need to get laid, too. I could use a good *******.
I saw a boy in the woods, and I almost felt that way. He was really cute. I tried to steal from him and get his attention, and it worked, almost. I asked him out, kind of. He never showed. I suppose I should review the other options I have. I don’t think he’s the one.
But there is someone else, maybe? No, probably not. I can’t look at every male of my species as a potential partner. That’s just silly. When it happens, I’ll know.
Won’t I?
This has gotten way too long. I’ll write more tomorrow night.
-Elle
I was turned October 17th, 2011, in the dead of the night. This was just after we last talked on October 15th. A man named Mircea Grigori approached me on the street and he grabbed my shoulder, and I don’t know what I was thinking. Normally I’d have mumbled uncomfortably and darted away from him in the night but I turned around, and I yelled at him, I pepper sprayed him, I pushed him... something about him made me boisterous, and angry, and confident in myself. He took me to coffee and we spoke, and... well, to make a long story short, I became a vampire. I suppose I’ll tell you the whole story later.
For a month or so, I struggled. I didn’t know who I was, what I was. Was I evil? Was I dead? Alive? In limbo? I drove myself to learn about the history of my new race and I discovered there had been a holocaust, that the vampires were wiped from the face of the earth and that Mircea, my ‘sire’ had been one of the few to survive. I learned how important it was to be careful, to hide my new form, from the humans around me. There’s someone watching us, always. They call him the Crow, and I know he tracks my every movement and he assigns me a bounty each time I screw up.
I think he might be our version of Santa Claus. He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake...
Regardless, our race is currently so small in its numbers that vampires cannot risk exposing themselves. I never noticed vampires in Harper Rock before, but now it seems that the city is teeming with them. Does this mean they’ve been here all this time?
I’ve been told that I have to stay in Harper Rock because if I die, it’ll be easier to come back. Some people have come back in as little as a few hours. Mircea and Habren, they didn’t die in Harper Rock, and it took them two hundred years to find their way out.
The thought of being lost that long scares me.
It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I realized I have a calling as a vampire. I’m meant to hunt. I don’t know why I love it so much, or what sort of god convinced me that it’s a good idea, but I am the Diana of vampires. There is no exhilaration like leveling a weapon and taking careful aim, and that pales in comparison to the primal thrill I’ve gotten from wrestling a mountain lion with my bare hands. I’ve started to take prizes, and relish the feeling of warm blood on my body. I live in the woods sometimes, building little forts of sticks and brush to shield myself from daylight.
The moon calls me to the hunt each evening, and I am no one if I fail to respond.
Mircea told me about the moon being Mater Nox once. During the eclipse, I started to really believe in her. That she spoke to me, the mother of the vampires, and that she calls me to the hunt each night because she wants me to train myself to my true purpose. I see the skills blossom even now as I hunt bounties with my family, and seek those who have done harm to the Grigori. The mother has a path for me. I believe in her now.
I suppose the only thing I’m missing is a lover. Not that I’ve ever had much luck in the area before, but I’m blossoming into something so much more than I’ve ever been. And I come home from hunting, I lay in my bed and I read these novels. These ideals of vampire life do nothing to compare to what this world really is, and I wish I could write of my experiences and become a best-selling author to the truth, but the truth isn’t what the humans want to hear. Even knowing what I read is no reality, I wish, somewhere deep in my soul that it was. That a male would smell me in the forest and he would long for me, and we wouldn’t have to marry or date, or pledge some sort of fealty. We would just know, and we would live as if we’d always known that one soul belongs to the other and no vows could change such a natural, physical destiny.
Maybe I just need to get laid, too. I could use a good *******.
I saw a boy in the woods, and I almost felt that way. He was really cute. I tried to steal from him and get his attention, and it worked, almost. I asked him out, kind of. He never showed. I suppose I should review the other options I have. I don’t think he’s the one.
But there is someone else, maybe? No, probably not. I can’t look at every male of my species as a potential partner. That’s just silly. When it happens, I’ll know.
Won’t I?
This has gotten way too long. I’ll write more tomorrow night.
-Elle
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