Chapter I – The PreludeChapter II
Part I : The Lost Boys|
“You’re one of us now – you’ll never age, you’ll never die, but you have to feed!”
My father left us in 1984, a victim of a screwed economy and alcoholism – demons within and demons without. My mother took my younger brother and myself and moved us to a small town to live with my granddad. I was 23.
The old man was a taxidermist and the town was like any other small town by the sea. Life was okay, I suppose. I wasn’t really the sort that really gave anything much of a damn. So life was pretty much okay, then my Mom started going out with this old guy, and I met up with this group of biker types, leather jackets and black clothes, and Star.
Star was beautiful in the way so few girls are. She could look me in the eye and smile the smile that would make all dreams come true – all of my dreams, at any rate. She brought me down to this great cavern, full of stuff, where the bikers hang, and there, upon a four poster bed, we made love.
Of course, this wouldn’t be a movie unless the blond leader happened to appear just after we were done. That was when I had my first taste of vampiric blood.
Suffice to say that things happened in pretty much the way they’re expected to from there. The old goat my Mom was dating turned out to be big daddy vamp with a pack of them Hounds of Hell. My entire family got slaughtered, but not without taking down all of the invading vampires. And I personally took down blond dude and the old goat, but not without, of course, losing my humanity in the process.
The year was 1984, and me and Star, creatures of the night, rode down the highway, towards the moon.
Part II : Portrait of the Artist as a Young Vampire|
“Do you believe that True Love fails ? That we’ve been poisoned by the Færie Tales ?”
Star left me a year later. It is tragedy when Love turns to Hatred, and it pains me too much to write down the miseries of our road. The thought of her still brings me joy, tinged with sorrow, and that is the way that True Love Falls.
Before she left, though, in the intervening hours whilst we lay together before the dawn, she confirmed what I had already knew about our kind – that we cannot enter a house unless invited, that we cannot cross running water, and that a crucifix will burn us. Damned little details.
So I left her my bike and stole a Pink Caddy. Turns out that it belonged to some cop named Nick Knight. That was when I first got the feel of a .44 Magnum, finding one under the passenger seat, dropped and forgotten, from the look of things. I learnt later that that particular make of Caddy had the biggest boot space ever, perfect for one in my situation.
A car, a gun, the open road and The Doors playing on the stereo, unlife goes on.Part III : Beneath the New Clear Sky
“Art has entered the subways, will it stop there ?”
In 1988 I first met more of my kind. After roaming through the country, I reached my first major city. It was there that I was introduced to The Clan and The Prince. And where I learned all that I know now of Cainite Society and its politik.
Under the hand of the Prince, I became a respected member of Clan Toreador. Until, in 1994, I left for the open road once again…
Chicago was interesting, to say the least.
I didn’t so much wish to settle down as I got tangled within Chicago’s mad politik. There was simply too much unfinished business to just up and go.
Banded together with a group of other ’neonates’, my natural talents as a leader shone through, of course. Not that anyone else in that rag-tag bunch would have made a better choice. Now of course, these are my dearest friends, whom I know I can trust with my unlife – and have, several times over. But the path we walked together was long and bloody, and it took us quite awhile to develop that trust.
Take Steel Malone, for example, when we first met, we got on like a church on fire. He hated my Toreador guts, and I didn’t take disrespect from anybody. After I Blood Bonded him, though, I came to see that beneath the serial killer façade was an adorable kitten.
And so, after Werewolf bashing, two princes, and a wee bit of thick blood, we left Chicago – seeking new adventures elsewhere.[an error occurred while processing this directive]