My name is Franklin Mott, I was born on October 31st 1730 in London England. In that time King George the II ruled and life was good, for my family at least. My father, Mr. Leonard Mott was a very resourceful skilled landscaper, sculptor and clock maker.

My mother Mary, a seamstress, took great care of me and my younger sister Lilly. We lived in a fine home, filled with art, books and the delightful smell of fresh bread. My sister and I attended the best school in London, although I hated the blue coat uniform we were required to wear, I excelled as a student.

My sister and I both worked hard to please our parents. My sister studied music, she was a fine pianist. I loved to sing along as she would play for us and guest in the evening after dinner. When I finished school I began working with my father in his shop.

I was twenty-five when I married my dear, beautiful Jane; we'd been married for ten years before she fell ill to pox and passed. My beloved boys Paul and John passed soon after leaving me to my vineyard.

The sadness of their death overwhelmed me one lonely night while reading Robinson Crusoe, it also inspired me. The next day I began the process of selling my land, soon after I embarked on my travels. I moved from town to town in England for several years. Little good it did to occupy my mind. No matter what; everything seemed to remind me of them.

I certainly wasn't trying to forget them, I longed for them. But knowing that I would never see them again and the way they suffered and died almost drove me mad. I felt like I needed to venture out further and explore the world. I wrote my family to tell them of my plans while in Ireland. They all wanted me to return home.

Wars tore across the nations and conflicts that would take several lifetimes to resolve plagued the world. Just like today, in that time and I could have easily gotten myself in lots of trouble or killed.

However, I was fearless and my sister knew it more than anyone and it frightened her. She asked her husband Edward Kinsley to offer me a job as an over seer in his cotton factory. I wrote back to my dear family expressing my love for them, respectfully declined my brother in laws offer. I plan to see them again, but I felt compelled to explore.

While in France I found employment at a candle shop to occupy my time. My landlord and employer, Thomas Burton, rented a room above the shop to me. I met him at a pub the night of my arrival and it was the same night he offered me the job.

He said he needed someone to tend to his shop during the day as he had other business to attend during the day. He offered me well above average wages for such a job; I was low on money so I could hardly refuse. I planned on staying in Paris for a while so gladly I accepted his offer.

A few weeks passed and I kept myself busy in the shop, coping, yet still struggling with my loss. At night we would keep the shop open even though we hardly ever got customers at such hours.

We'd play backgammon and smoked our clay pipes. I told him about my life back in London, about Jane and the boys. He shared little about his background; I could not seem to figure out why. Thomas was a mysterious and peculiar man.

A month had passed and on a brisk fall night he asked me to join him in for a show at the theater, I was delighted. I had not been to a show in years. We enjoyed the play but I had a bit too much to drink. I went outside for a spell of air and stumbled into the alley to relive myself when suddenly a woman was before me.

She looked to be in her thirties, well dressed with dark hair and emerald green eyes. She had fair skin, a very lovely woman at first site. I figured she'd lost her party and was in need of assistance, I asked her name and she told me. Her name was Angelica, she never gave a last name, and she said she was from Spain.

"I am here on business to collect a debt," she continued with a heavy Spanish accent.

I found it odd that she would be discussing her business with a complete stranger, however, it peaked my curiosity, so I asked.

"What is owed to you?"

"A life..." She countered, glaring at me as if I was the one who was in debt to her.

Before I could respond to her strange comment she was before me, her hands wrapped around my neck. She had unbelievable strength.

How could this be?

I gasped for air, her strangle- hold left me with little air, I managed a faint bellow at the site, as she opened her mouth and barred teeth like an animal. I could not let out a proper call for help; her grip on my neck prevented it. I was attacked, bitten by this thing that disguises itself as a woman. I struggled as I felt my blood tricking down my neck and I begin to lose conciseness.

Not aware of how much time had passed I found myself in my own bed, I felt quite faint. I examined myself. I had bite marks from the attack all over my body.

To my surprise, Thomas was standing over me.

Did the old chap somehow manage to rescue me from that creature?

"Do you know what happened to you?" He asked, but the look on his face suggested that he already knew.

"I supposed I was attacked." I managed to reply although speaking was painful, my entire body ached and I felt so cold.

"You were not only attacked, your blood, your life force has been drained. You've been fed upon for many hours, and in a few more hours you will surely die."

His admission not only terrified me it also puzzled me.

Does he know who or what did this to me?

"Do you want to die Franklin?"

I shook my head furiously. His face was eerily expressionless.

"Well certainly not!" I shuddered at the thought.

Who would want to die, let alone in such a manner?

But I was sure I was going to die. The fact was I was at his mercy.