My story begins rather different than most, you see I am already at an end. My end to be exact, although even in death you may still find love, you may still crave the warmth of flesh long after yours has gone cold. I think it was the warmth inside that drew me to her; it was what gave my long cold body the felling of lust once again. It is that reason that I felt my story should be shared after all this time. I hope you feel the same after you read my tale of woe and want, maybe even bring out the Dark dreams within you.
The year was 1897 the dawning of a new era was upon us. I myself have witnessed countless ages and seen many changes to the world. Suffering alone for many years wandering; searching for something I could never have, a life.
My kind was never greeted with open arms; all the stories of blood baths and child snatching had given my ancestors a reputation that I would have to live with for all eternity. My maker, my father if you will was one who relished in these tales telling me the stories of his father and grandfather before him stalking would be knights looking to make a name for themselves. I still faintly remember as a child sitting alone in the dark streets crying for a mother I never had though pity was bestowed on me from the high class aristocrats, wealthy women looking to make a difference in the sorry world, father called them spoiled blood. In my elder years I found myself craving these high classes; these spoiled bloods. To my taste they were sweeter, nothing like the wine of the rich I always say. It was my taste of fine living that brought me to her, the picture of everything it meant to be alive, the curves of her body shaped like the heart of a child. At this time I was more worried of what my father would do if he found me lusting over a human.
