Xian's Journal

[Xian]

VENGEANCE REQUIRES KNOWLEDGE. This was a simple fact that I accepted as I decided upon this course. There would be a great many things that I needed to know, many things I needed to find out and learn as I went along. This would need time and effort, but I had time and I had patience, and I was highly motivated by the fire burning inside the vacuum that was my loss.

I learned of the event itself through a short news article I stumbled across as I roamed the Web. I had even almost discarded the information - there had been no names, after all. Just another home invasion, two deaths with one critically injured, regrettable, disturbing and shocking for some. Worth a sigh and a shake of the head, then a click to move on to other, better things.

Only mention of the city I had once called home led me to reach out and seek more information. I can credit nothing else except morbid curiosity, else I could have moved on just as any other would have. Or perhaps there was some Higher Power, after all, that guided me to check another site, then another, for the same news, looking for more information.

Other news sites gave only as much information as the first, which was really no surprise. Most of these so-called news sites merely copied from each other, with so few really doing their own research. I could eventually find their first source, but there was no guarantee that it would have much more information than any of the others.

I changed tactics, and began searching through news sites from the city itself, cross referencing publishing times and dates with the date of the event itself. Four home invasions in the course of a week, three with no survivors. Easy enough to know which one I wanted to learn more about.

To say I was stunned by the revelation of the names of my parents and sister as the victims of the crime is an understatement. I think I must have passed out, actually. I don't know what happened, but the next thing I remember was waking the next night with blood on my hands and clothes - blood that had apparently streamed from my own eyes. I remember waking hungry, but I couldn't get myself to stand.

But I could get myself to dive into the Web once more.

I re-read the news article of the event, then proceeded to subtly break into the web servers of the police station that investigated the event. I devoured the information, burned each item into memory, forced myself to look at evidence, pictures, reports. And when it was too much for me, I allowed myself to retreat into my mind.

Night after night I examined the evidence, broke into servers I suspected would have more information. I read autopsy reports, analyses, emails, anything at all.

More often than not, such events would have no footage to find, but in that sense I was lucky. A security camera on the same street as my parents' apartment building - I laughed that none of the others in the building were aware, or at least claimed they were unaware. A dark, despairing laugh that made me want to tear into each of their throats - caught grainy images of several men as they entered the building.

This led me to find other security cameras, which eventually led me to one that revealed the face of two of the suspects. Faces I remembered to belong to members of the rival gang that had attacked me and my friends more than a year ago. Confused, this still allowed me to link them to the event, though I still didn't know to what extent the rest of them were aware of the event, nor did I know who the other two were, at least not for sure.

But again, dark fortune shone on me. For whatever reason, they had not only killed my parents and near killed my sister, they had also taken practically every electronic device they had owned, and almost all recording media that was there as well. That meant four cell phones, a small video camera, some flash disks and almost every CD and DVD. That also meant a laptop that my sister owned.

It took a while to trace it, but I managed to find the laptop's serials by meticulously going through sales receipts. I also cross-referenced through the social media sites she used, and also through the service providers she connected through. This allowed me to locate the laptop the next instance it was connected to the web.

An alert I set up called my attention to it the second the laptop's unique signature signed into the web through a public wi-fi connection. Foolish, but I had been counting on it. I traced its location quickly, then reviewed the data still stored in its drive. Scrubbed, but not completely, not professionally. And even then, a professional scrub can only go so far.

I dove in and recovered lost files, copying them as fast as I could into the virtual ether. Then I began to reconstruct the data, all the while hoping there would be something, anything that could give me more clues, more information. More knowledge.

I found a video, short, and among the first deleted and scrubbed. Timestamped with the night of the event, during the time of the event.

My sister's laptop had been facing the door into the small apartment they lived in, and was in use when they had broken in. Not connected online, no, and not transmitting, but it was on. Perhaps she was testing something, perhaps something had alerted her to activate the camera. But the footage had been taken. Not in its entirety, but enough for me to experience the savagery.

I could feel my nails digging into the palm of my hand, and I knew that I had broken through my undead skin. Teeth clenched, I willed the laptop's camera to activate itself while leaving no sign of it's having done so on the other end.

I looked upon the face of my tormentor. My prey. And I smiled.

[Xian]

THERE WERE MANY THINGS I needed to do, and so many things yet that I need to get done. I don't have any illusions that this will be quick or easy, or even cheap. Already I've spent far more than I've ever spent in my entire life, including the time I was a living being. But so far it has been money well spent.

I've employed two private investigators, one to look into the night of the event, the other to track down where our old rivals were holed up. I considered seeking a third, to find who they were working for; I doubt that they were acting on their own. But I decided I would have to seek that information out on my own.

I spoke with them through video chat, the connection untraceable, my face digitally reconstructed into a shadowed and distorted mask. I've had to use actual hardware for some of this work, an additional expense, but the effort of connecting in this way would be exhausting. I didn't want to return to the same catatonic state I had been previously. They update me through emails, though I've also left them an option to call me on what I told them was a secure line. One that passes into the ether of the CrowNet and directly to my mind.

One does not know the actions of the other, and I've contemplated at least making them aware that I have hired two of them. For now, I shall let them remain ignorant. I've given them no real reasons why I have asked them to do what I'm paying them for, and perhaps I never will. I want nothing that can lead to me.

Nothing that can lead to Harper Rock.

I suspect that the event was an effort to find me, though for what reason I can only guess. Perhaps even the attack on my old gang's hangout was because of me. But it would mean that I have something that someone considers of value, or saw something, or they think I did.

I wish I could trust my previous memories more. But while I remember a lot, there are also many things I still cannot remember. The night my gang was attacked, for one, I remember differently almost every single time I try to think about it. Small changes, almost insignificant. The curse of a mind that tries to remember. And yet I think it is in the details that I will find some answer, some clue.

Perhaps there is a way I can reconstruct my mind. I will need to look into this. Again I am loathe to bring others into my affairs. My new family need not know, and so they will remain ignorant as well.

My mind turns now to the protection of my still comatose sister. She has had no visitors, and I want there to be none, save for the doctors and nurses that look over her. I will continue to pay for her care, though I also worry that she will not wake. She has suffered much. If she does wake, she will suffer more, and I am tempted to save her from that.

But life has value, this I still believe, dead thing that I am who is a killer by nature. I will let her have the choice.

My mind wanders, I think so must I. I've spent too much time in the ether of the Crownet of late. I need to walk the city streets.

[Xian]

My mistress hissed with silken words, but I didn't heed the call
Her sibilant whispers didn't take, and I wasn't in her thrall
My mind, alert, awake, it ran, of her efforts unheeding
To grasp and put me in my place, to cease my endless wand'ring

Too many things to do have I, before the night is done
Tasks too urgent to let wait til the rising of the sun
Things in darkness done are they, in shadows they must lie
Or else these things in failure must, inevetably die

But sleep, my mistress, summons me, and I cannot resist
The sun is close and rising it brings with it shadowed mist
That covers me, my tasks undone, left now, the world comes bright
These goals unmet must wait til day turns once more into night

[Xian]

IT'S ALL A BLUR. I'm here but I'm not.

Hello? Is anyone out there? Where is everybody?

Where am I? What am I?

Pieces, everything's in pieces. Jumbled fragments.

Goose. Duck. Egg. Quack. Alphabet in missing numbers. Velocity is pi R cubed. Where's the beef?

Gah. What is wrong with me?

Focus.

I need focus.



It's too quiet.



Why can't I see anything? Why can't I hear anything?

Hello? Is anyone out there?

Hey.

Who are you?

You.

What?

You.

What do you mean, "you?"

The answer to your question.

What?

No, the first one.

I don't -

No, you don't. But you will.

What is happe -

Shh. You'll understand soon.

Do I kno -

Yes. Now, hush. You'll understand soon.

Okay. But -

No. Rest. Sleep.

...

[Xian]

I AM DREAMING. That was my first coherent thought after - how long has it been? hours? days? weeks? I have lost track. - my long period in the empty darkness.

I understood the words, but their full sense didn't strike me for another few, long moments. I. I am an I. Therefore, I am a who. So who am I? My thoughts revolved around this for heartbeat and a song. And then I did a jig, and remembered.

I am Kith. Wait. No.

I am Xian. Kith was someone that I used to know. Or was that some-thing?

As I settled in the emptiness content with recognizing my own identity, I realized that I was without form. And then I realized that I understood I used to have a form, that forms existed, but not here.

Here. Where is here? This was my next concern. And then, like an avalanche of realizations, I continued to remember who I was, what I was, and where I was.

I assumed I was in my own mind. That would explain the formlessness and the darkness. That would also explain why I could just barely hear the echo of something inaudible. Like hearing something from beneath the waves.

While I thought these things, some part of me began to imagine myself, my formless "I," as floating in an empty, dark void. Then I realized how sad that must be, to have my mind, where I had first assumed I was, as an empty, dark void. Where did everything go? I used to have so much in here.

As I thought this oddity over, the sound that I could just barely hear started to grow in intensity and power. Soon, I began to take note of it more, over my own analysis of my condition. Perhaps my last thought, before the noise overtook my awareness, was "Am I dead?"

Then I was again burried, but this time in a cacophonous barrage of indecipherable sounds. I felt myself pushed this way and that, which seemed strange at the time, since I had no form to push around. It's still strange now, except that I think I was approximating everything, making slow sense of everything. And that was how I was restoring my understanding.

Anyway. Pushed, tossed, taken, brought, the sounds surrounded me and infused me. Until I realized that things did not have to be this way. If this was my mind, then I could be in control.

I shouted this into the darkness. And amidst the fury of the storm of sounds, I heard a laughter, clear and ringing, piercing through the vortex of noice. And, slowly, the sounds seemed to fade, pull back. Organize themselves more coherently.

Now less barraged by noise, I took stock again. What was that laughter? Who was that laughter? If this is my mind, I told myself, and I was slowly beginning to think that I was wrong with this first supposition, then was that laughter me? And yet, I did not remember laughing. Nor did I see what could be so amusing.

The laughter trailed off as I thought these thoughts, and I realized that I could now easier distinguish the many many noises around me. Gunshots. Voices. Music. Cars. Electronic beeps and trills. The roar of animals and creatures that went bump in the night.

I turned to one noise, though, again, this was more of an approximation, as I was without form, and there was no substance around me. Music. A song I remembered from a life long ago.

We lay on the bed together, she and I, and the music was playing on the old radio lying on it's side on the floor. We were tangled in the bedsheets beside each other, and the sunlight -

I cringed at this memory, but the memory continued.

- the sunlight peeked through the cracks in the walls and ceiling. I looked up and began to trace a crack, almost forgetting the cigarette in my hand. She was still asleep. I knew I had to let her sleep...

What was her name again? I struggled to remember.

But, slowly, I began to remember.

[Xian]

I HAVE OFTEN WONDERED why it is that starlight does not burn us the way that sunlight does. The stars are brothers, sisters, and cousins to our sun, and yet the sun is our bane, and the stars merely watch us.

I am reminded of at tale that I know I don't remember correctly: that we were made by a goddess of the night, and hated by the god of the day. The sun despises our existence, and the stars... don't care?

Yeah, that's weird.

Where have I been the past few months? The walls in my mind are fierce and strong, and I don't have the strength to break through them to see the secrets buried behind them. And even if I did break them, would I have the endurance to dig through the myths and lies that I may have myself placed? Would I have the will to take the truths and really know them?

Or would I simply bury them behind another wall of lies?

I don't know who I am anymore.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

I don't even know where I am.

Am I in my own mind? I have assumed this from the start, given that I seem to be able to affect what I "see" and "experience" around me. I can make barren landscapes flourish, I can create images, and see my memories. Whether any of it is real is left to subjective consideration.

But if I am wrong, and this is a "real" world - where am I?

I doubt this existence fits into any conventional understanding of reality. Though I don't doubt the possiblity of existences beyond convention or rationality. I have heard of this place we go to when our bodies are destroyed - could this be the place? I doubt it; the stories didn't say anything about being able to mold or shape the place.

And I doubt that I am stronger than I think, and that I can affect such a place as what I would call a vampire hell. A vampire hell that we are vomitted from to return to Harper Rock.

What was I thinking? Who am I and where am I.

I think I am in my own mind. Trapped for some reason, or perhaps removed from my own body. I have suspected that to be possible for a while - we are spirits, we vampires. We merely inhabit our bodies. Necromancers and Mystics I think even take on bodies that aren't our own. We telepaths are less bound to our own bodies also.

Incoherence. I am rambling. Focus.

Who am I and where am I.

I am in my own mind.

I am... myself?

[Xian]

IT HAS BEEN AN AGE. Or at least it feels that way. I have been lost in myself, or in another place, or maybe even another time; the truth of the matter is of no real significance one way or another, except perhaps to myself, when I have time for them. What is more important is that I have been gone.

And now I have returned.

Or have I?

As my eyes opened, and my mind was again my own, I recognized the sight of my haven, the home of my family, my bloodline. What day was it? I could have easily reached into the psychic ether, and connect to what the humans call the World Wide Web, but I hesitated.

How typical of me.

But this place, as familiar as it seemed, seemed strage, barren, empty. Different. It was the home I remembered, or at least appeared to be, but it didn't feel like it. There was something missing, something ephemeral, yet distinct. A change in the air, the spirit, the mind.

Or perhaps, I allowed myself to muse, it was a change in myself. The darkness here seemed similar enough; as malleable and fallible as my memories could be, I doubted that they would fail me in recognizing my own home. And yet, there was a difference here.

The Other inside me stirred. Was this place hostile, it wondered, and settled to a wary awareness, while I continued to look around. He and I had come to an understanding in our time elsewhere, where I had finally come to recognize him, and he had come to accept who I was, who we were.

But even he was unsure of this place, while at the same time being quite certain it was where we appeared to be.

How long had it been since I first stepped through the shadowy portal that my grandsire had offered to me? I felt for the small tome secreted on my person, and recalled my first tentative steps into the Sanctuary of my bloodline. How cautious, how wary, how fearful I was then.

I allowed myself a tight smile at the memory, and then settled my mind once more into the present. There was a mystery here, a secret.

And I do so love secrets.

[Xian]

IT HAS BEEN over a week since I awoke from what I had first assumed was a deep sleep. While I have not yet determined what truly happened, the time that has elapsed has allowed me to reconsider my initial hypothesis. While I believe that there is a possibility that I truly was simply asleep, a number of other possibilities exist; I will pursue these threads as the opportunity and desire arise.

There is, of course, what seems to be my usual problem: I have no memory of what seems to be the past few months. As had happened when I was first Made, I there is a significant gap where the memories of important events should be. My most recent memories, at least in physical form, begin with my walking through the portal into the home of my blood-kin. Before that, my last memory was that of the world erupting into flame. Between the two, there only exists memories of events that I am certain were all in my mind.

I have been able to easily determine the current date, and I have since been able to acquaint myself with the significant happenings during that gap in my memory. My connection to the Ethernet, and it's ability to bridge me to the world wide web, has allowed me to view news reports, blogs, and other easily accessible avenues for information. Where I have had time, I've even explored, discreetly, certain information sites not easily accessed by the general public. I have not been gone all that long, but it seems the world changed almost completely while I was away.

The Humans know about us now.

I guess it was bound to happen. According to what little historical record there is, we vampires have never before gathered in such numbers in one place, especially not for an extended period of time. Even if we consider the myth of a vampire city some time in the past to be verifiable fact, that place was ruled and dominated by our kind, and existed before what is now called the Masquerade was put in place. Between then and now, my kind would either live solitary existences, meeting only occasionally with other vampires, or live in small numbers, typically "family groups" of vampires of the same blood, elder vampires teaching those younger, as Humans teach their young.

Today, here in Harper rock, I cannot even begin to think how many of us exist. For one thing, we have no true government, and, since the disappearance of the Crow, what once passed for a governing body no longer truly exists. We do not count our numbers, and there is no one vampire or group of vampires that can impose such a count at any rate.

(Perhaps this is an endeavor that we vampires should consider. As the Humans gather in groups for strength, perhaps so should we, else we all fall under the Human Tide. I do not see this happening, however; as while humans are able to set aside their differences, at least to certain degrees, it seems we are unable and unwilling to do so, at least typically. On possibility, of course, as in the case of the Crow, is that of a benevolent dictator, or at least one that is able to direct, dominate, control, and influence those vampires who would otherwise prefer to have their own. Way. This is a path of thought that I should pursue in the future. But for now, I digress.)

In addition to our already bloated numbers within the city, it appears that none of us can truly die here in Harper Rock. The barrier between the living and the dead is permeable, and we can and often do return, even if we are destroyed. In times past, it was said only the most powerful of us could cross the veil from the lands of the dead. Now, even the youngest and weakest of us and find the pathways back into the lands of the living. It's true that some of us never walk back, never return, but the numbers that do far outnumber those that do not. Unable to die, our population only continues to grow.

(As another aside, I do wonder if I had died that day, the day where I remember the world exploding. The memory I have of that last moment is hazy, and likely flawed in more than one way. However, I have since learned that there were a number of attacks against my kind that day. Outright, blatant, almost impressive attacks, that seemed aimed to not only show us for what we are, but also to kill as many of us as possible. Anyway, I am not completely convinced yet that I died that day, and neither is my Other. I do not discount this possibility, especially since I do remember being in another place where I and my Other were able to finally meet and come to an agreement about things, I am not yet convinced. I would think that dying would leave a more enduring mark upon me. But I will try to keep an open mind about the subject. More on this later. Perhaps.)

(Yet another aside: is there a way to kill us permanently? Maybe there is a death from which my kind will not return from, even in this city where living and once-dead walk together in the streets. While this is in no way a complete solution in any case to the problem of our overpopulation, it may be worthwhile exploring this idea. For purposes of enlightenment, surely, but I am certain there could be other, more practical uses for this kind of knowledge. My Other agrees.)

Another thing that lead to our discovery is the simple fact that fewer and fewer of us cared to hide our existences anymore. Where once my kind enforced the charade that we were human, pretending for the entirety of our existences that we danced to an inhuman Masquerade, this game has been played less and less in the past years. Violations, once dealt with with an iron fist, and a cold blade, became more frequent, as violators found themselves able to return from, if not outright survive, the usually terminal consequences of disobedience. Even the most skilled an passionate of Enforcers could not stem the tide of violations, or returning violators.

And then one can also add the fact that human technology has advanced to the point that they are able to easily discover us. Video cameras, recordings, transcripts, blogs, information and ways to gather them are everywhere. Where once our stories and tales were word-of-mouth, and eventually considered mere myth and fantasy, today, pictures and video capture the most careless among us. Attempts to stem the flow of such captured evidence seems like taking away an ocean one thimbleful of water at a time, and as the saying goes, once it's on the Internet, it's there forever.

They outnumber us. I have thought and considered this before. They outnumber us, and now they know.

My mind and thoughts begin to scatter. I shall gather them again another night. For now, I think I need to wander the web for a while, and let my Other roam the streets. I will write more on this, I am certain. Though I make no promises that I will make much more sense in the future than I already have in the past.

Sense can be such a relative thing.

Do make sure to take care as we walk the streets, Other.

Yes, of course.

[Xian]

SOMETHING INSIDE HIM is broken, I think. I've been thinking this for a while now, even if it has taken me this long to "write it down" so to speak.

(Have I ever said this is amazing, by the way? This is amazing. I'm not the wordy sort, or at least I didn't think so, but it seems this place, this... journal in the aether? Brings out the bit of him that's also in me. So, there. Anyway.)

He hasn't been the same since our return from wherever it was that we finally found each other. Or, at least, where he finally realized I was the other part of him he never asked for. Long story short, we dealt with it. We're dealing. We're handling it the only way we can. Night by night. It's been more fun than me "stealing the car" so to speak.

Anyway. We went to that place. We "found each other." We're good now. Xian's changed and broken now. Did we die back there, which is why we had to "come back" and we're now changed? I don't really know, and I'm the part of us that doesn't really care so much. (Except that if we did die, and I came back with him, that handles one of my earlier fears. Fear. Yeah, I can admit it as a fear. Who the hell else is going to read this anyway. Not like I have to protect some kind of tough guy image.)

So, between the realization of meeting me, and dealing with us, and whatever else he had to face back there that he's somehow keeping from me, Xian's changed. Different.

Broken.

That's really the best word I can think about. Yes, I do have access to a whole world of stored language in the world wide web. But, broken. Like in that vision of our transformation, a glass shattering and breaking apart.

But not in a bad way. At least, I don't think so. And I'm not just saying this because I think he'll be able to read this eventually. For one thing, I don't think he'd care.

I don't.

See?

Anyway. Broken. Different.

For one thing, he's finally stopped breathing. Except when we're among the "normals," at least. When we first changed, some habit, some mental reminder of living, kept him breathing, even if he never needed it. In, out. *Gasp for air to denote surprise!* (okay, I think we may still do that. I'll try to pay better attention.) Anyway, breathing used to be second nature, just like when we were alive.

He also seems even more analytical and distant. Rational, almost unemotional. I can still feel a fire burning back there, but it's the kind that doesn't give out heat. But not because it's not warm. It's like everything just cycles back inside, nothing's wasted.

I think I like the new Xian. No more whining, no more insecurity. It's a little scary, if I had to admit it only to myself. (And I am admitting it only to myself, after all. Who would ever get to read this? Him? Me? I don't care that he knows our mind.) But it's a good kind of scary. At least, I think so.

I think he's finally just accepted what he is, what we are. And he's just rolling with it, just like we're rolling with us. Maybe it has something to do with finally realizing that the fictions he'd managed to place in our minds were exactly that, maybe it has something to do with embracing the truth of why he came to Harper Rock.

The Truth can set you free, right?

That's not my story to tell though.

[Xian]

I HAVE BEEN thinking a great deal about the future, and what it means for our kind to have all of humanity be finally aware of our existence. I expect that I am not the only one among us doing this; most who have even the most basic ability to think should be able to realize that everything has changed now. And that there will be more changes to come. What these future changes are, and what their effects are on our kind will depend not only on how humans react, but also how we vampires respond to this final, terminal breach in the secrecy so many of us espoused in the past.

The debates and clashes over whether we ourselves should lift our masquerade are over. They now know. They are now aware. There is no way this can be undone, short of a miracle, or divine intervention. There is no way to spin this as some sort of practical joke, or movie trailer.

They now know. They are now aware. These words are as much warning as they are a statement of simple truth. And I am as of yet unsure if I like this or not. What I am sure of is that I must deal with it, so I shall deal with it.

We'll deal with it.

Every one of us will have to deal with it.

Admittedly, there are those among us that do not have the capacity to even realize that there ever was a secret to be kept. I have, after all, seen many of our feral kind skulking in the shadows of the sewers. These mindless creatures have even attacked me in times past. I have heard that it was one of these that was finally captured and analysed by mortal scientists; it was bound to happen sometime. I have always thought that we should have cleaned out these ferals, or at least put in stricter measures to contain them, as we had in the quarantine area for the other walking dead.

Even among those of us who retained control over our minds, there are those that only nominally pass the test of true intelligence. And there are also those that do not care about anything that happens around them, save what is immediate and required for nightly survival. The behavior of these individuals, both those of ferals, and those vampires who will continue on their careless ways, will definitely be a factor as well.

Among the rational, thinking among us, I expect reactions to this knowledge will be varied and often opposing. We have never been a unified lot, though I have heard myths that we were in the beginning. But those myths are no more, and their time will not come again soon. We will likely attack this problem with the usual fractured efforts, one side pulling against the other, while humanity decides for themselves what to do.

If we take to long arguing about it ourselves, humanity will come to their own conclusions. Which could be something disastrous for us.

I guess my musings on a structural hierarchy within the city come to mind: it would have helped us greatly if the vampiric community could come to even the most basic consensus. But we have no true government, and we can only rely on each other to act in enlightened self interest. In the past, this worked to some degree. We did as we saw fit, and those that others believed acted in a manner threatening to our existence were hunted down and punished by those few who considered themselves our watchers and defenders.

This obviously was not enough. There were too many things to be done to ensure our secrecy, no guided, coordinated effort. I wonder now what the Crow may have done to prevent or at least delay this. Though I guess thinking on what might have beens is just as productive as doing nothing at all.

I expect that, if it is not already happening, vampires all around the city will clash, as their ideologies and beliefs come into direct conflict on how to deal with this change in the status quo. So, not only can we expect some sort of reaction or retaliation from the humans, I expect that we shall also be at each others' throats.

My most significant question, however, is whether or not we will survive this. I have always held the belief that humanity is dangerous to us: their numbers and their technology are an open threat to our continued existence. In the past, our miraculous powers and abilities could be used to pacify them, to intimidate them, or even to completely eradicate many of them, so that they feared acting against us. As incredible as our abilities are to these mortals, with their weaponry and their numbers, their fear may incite them to action instead.

Is there a war coming in the horizon? I hope not. There is no way I can see us winning a war, should the humans decide one should be waged. My Other is whispering that it would be glorious, but even he agrees that it would also be a disastrous end for us.

So, what stand should I take? One obvious choice is attempting to find some sort of peaceful coexistence with the mortals that we once simply preyed upon. Some will balk at this. Some may call for us to reveal our true power, and seize an elevated place in this world. But I do not see this working, unless we can claim not only physical or mystical power, but also political influence with the mortals.

I find it unfortunate that we cannot even pretend to have a united front, that there is no one leader that can even claim to represent us to bargain with or deal with, this current problem. Perhaps one will rise, though I can only imagine the struggles ahead for this theoretical vampire hero.

No, we, each of us, have to come to some sort of decision, I think.

As for me, I will find some way to survive this. Because I must.