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ignites like gasoline
Posted: 14 Aug 2020, 22:54
by Jameson
They say when you die, you see a great white light that brings you into warmth and heaven, usually by a guardian angel. Unfortunately for me, my guardian angel seemed to miss the ******* memo. Because do you know what I received when I died? Lachlan - my brother’s damn friend, a ******* bullet hitting me just enough to cause me to die slowly in front of him and immortality.
Yeah, it was peachy.
I suppose I can’t be too angry.
Well, no. I can be just the right quantity angry given the fact I did die, I just didn’t die the way whoever took the hit out on me expected. My heart just doesn’t beat and now, I have to drink the blood of virgins. Kidding. I have to drink the blood of humans, or animals. But, I would rather not find myself flossing with bambi’s fur later on in the evening.
I have a love-hate relationship with the sun more than I ever thought I would. I forgot about the whole “vampires will burst into flames” ******** that the movies always told you, unless you go with the sparkle sparkle versions, and stepped out into the sun while exhausted not once, but twice, in the two days that I was no longer human.
Let me tell you.
****.
*******.
hurts.
There are parts of my body I forgot were even capable of hurting, and I went through boot camp, and my older brother going through his wrestling phases. Ice baths don’t even work, but for now, sun bad. Shadows are good. Lord, I sound stupid. Need to stick to dark places.
And speaking of pain, I don’t think where Lachlan shot me has completely healed. It hurts, and I ain’t no *****, but when I said this **** hurts, I mean every-breath-I-take-dear-lord-end-it-now pain. I’ll have to ask him about it later. Anyway. I need to try and catch something to feed on, the thirst is frustrating and I’m crabby enough as it is.
undated, 2018.
Re: ignites like gasoline
Posted: 14 Aug 2020, 22:56
by Jameson
September.
Huh. Oops.
Procrastination in regards to updates, thy name is Jameson.
Hard to believe that it's been nine months.
So, I left Harper Rock for a while.
I guess I needed to get my head wrapped around all of what this is. Vampirism. I never suspected for this **** to be real, it's always been a subject for books or movies, but never real life. It was a bit overwhelming for me. Not to mention, I didn't expect my idiot brother's idiot friend to be one, let alone for the man to turn me.
Coincidences are odd.
All in all, it doesn't seem too bad.
Lachlan's not too bad, nor do the rest of the line seem to be, but sometimes its just easier being by myself. They're a family unit and I haven't made much of an attempt to want to be there, roads are a two way street and we haven't crossed that bridge yet. I still haven't figured out whether or not I should try to fit in. When you've got a bit of a bristle to you, being your sort of friendly doesn't always do well in large crowds when one isn't much of a social insect.
It's easier to awkward turtle my way to the door, anyhow.
My guardian angel still missed his ******* memo.
I don't know what's more irritating, the fact that my shoulder has yet to heal - thank you, Lachlan, you asshole - or the fact that my leg was hacked off by some fuckwit while I was resting in the sewers. It's dark down there and the peashooter I was using had run out of ammo. They're both pretty high on my "**** that needs to ******* stop" list. I had thought my shoulder healed until Lach gave me a stick to bash heads in with.
Lifted my arms to bring it down against some scaly thing in the cavern and it felt like I had been shot all over again. Then there's the hobbling. I'm short. Canes are not easy to find when you're bleeding all over the place, either, nor when its growing back layer by ******* layer. Ever seen a flayed deer, the muscle all visible and ****? That's my leg. Enjoy the vision, because I'd rather not see it ever again.
Some ****** bumped into me earlier.
I shot him, right in the chest with my little peashooter - although, I really miss my service pistol. My tolerance level has gotten lower. That's something I've also noticed, too, that's different other than the whole "I drink blood, cannot go into the sun, and oh, limbs grow back" ********. I used to not (I know, it's hard to believe) have a hairpin trigger.
And even now, I wouldn't call it that, more so an intolerance to idiocy, but I react with less thought.
There was one point in my life, too, where I preferred not to lie.
Brutal honesty has always been my way to go, but there were occasions where I would.
Now? I couldn't lie to save my life. It pretty sucks considering there's a chance some vampire obsessed dimwit may ask while I'm so pale, or cold. "I'm a vampire" might pop out.
I'm a ginger living in Canada
September, 2018.
Re: ignites like gasoline
Posted: 14 Aug 2020, 22:57
by Jameson
What the actual ****.
Spot where I was shot still ain't healed.
******* throat burns like no tomorrow at a constant state of what I can only describe as shoving a red-hot iron down against my esophageal lining. Blood lessens the pain, but not any of that bagged ****, the real fresh stuff. I guess that's where my trouble began as of late, too. I quite enjoy this whole healing immortal bit, but in all honesty, I've gotten accustomed to it. Humans aren't as intelligent as they like to think they are. All it usually takes is for a man to see a pretty face and a smile before they slip into what can only be explained as prey mode. I thought it was bad back when they didn't expect me to be able to pull a gun on them back overseas, but this is almost painful at times.
There are different ways to go about it.
It's almost sickening how much I enjoy slitting the throat of a clueless man before getting my fill in the evenings.
Sickening, but pleasurable.
December 17th, 2018
Re: ignites like gasoline
Posted: 14 Aug 2020, 23:17
by Jameson
Today, I found a weird looking coin. Perhaps it'll cause my luck to change for the better, but I've never been one to rely much on luck anyhow. It fits nicely in my pocket, though, so I suppose I'll keep it for the time being. It's been just another day where I'm hunting in the abandoned buildings of what they now call the Quarantine Zone. There's hardly ever any traffic, it seems, which is fine by me. It's quieter without them, and I'm capable of getting to and fro without any trouble. There's another vampire by the name of Declan who helps me out from time to time by creating more shadows around as I feed, we don't speak. Nodding is typically our interaction.
There's an immense sense of unfamiliarity around him that makes me uneasy, so I hardly linger long before making my way back to the sewers. Down there, there are hunters. I've found they're easier to take down, as well, typically by gun fire and brute force. With my journal updated, I'm off to continue my hunting, I think.
December 19th, 2018