Hollow

I remember being full. I remember laughing, and smiling. I remember tears coming from my eyes. I remember loving someone, whose name escapes me. I remember kissing her, and loving her.

I remember.

But my memories are just that. Fading memories vanishing in the dark inside. Unwanted, and unneeded, but still there. Holding on in the back of my mind, trying to remind me of what once was. Trying to remind me that there was a heart somewhere in me.

But no. There is nothing in my chest. Nothing beats in fear or love. I dance to the beat of man, not myself. For I feel none of that. What was once was is no more, and I have no intention of it returning. What do I need with a heart? Why do I need to give love back to my brides? Why do I need to love my children? Why do I need to feel fear?

Yet the memories, how they persist.

They linger in my mind, making me wonder what that woman's name was that I loved so dearly. Such things mean nothing to me though. And yet I begin to remember how she loved red roses. I remember that woman from another life time, I remember I loved her so much. I remember telling her I would always love her. I remember she cried when I was killed.

I remember laughing at one of my father's jokes at dinner once.

I remember telling my cousins to wait while I'd get them some wine.

I remember dancing in the ballroom.

I remember Gabriel. . . Van Helsing killing me.

But all so far away, the beauty of the ballroom dulled, the laughter so quiet, the wine tasteless, and my death now but a simple pain of a cut. The tears that woman shedded for me, in vain.

How everything is so distant in my mind, and yet they stay with me.

I can remember those days, vaguely but I remember. But I remember none of the sensations I once felt. I feel no love when I remember that woman. I feel no joy when I remember my father's jokes. I remember them, but I do not feel them. Because now, in death, everything was taken from me. In death, I became nothing to anything. I became hollow.

Soon, I feel, these memories will leave. Shadowed by what is left, me. Hollow and empty. No longer that person I remember, but hollow. Hollow and empty. Hollow and empty, that is all I am. It is not complicated.

These memories, unwanted.

These remnants of what were unneeded.

Merely things on the outside, but nothing on the inside.

My name is not that of a mortal. My name is that of fear. My name is Dracula, and I am hollow. I own no heart. I own no love. All I need is the key to wake my children, and forever keep the vampires going. Keep them alive, and without the memories of what they once were. Because what they once were, they are still. My children, born dead, and alive dead. Hollow forever, just like me.

I must keep the vampires alive, because if not me, then who? Who but the original, and already dead vampire? The strongest, and powerfulless. One that is hollow, and not waded by emotions that linger on the inside.

They kill us again and again, when we only feed off one or two. I feel nothing when one of us is gone. I do not miss a bride when they are taken from me. I only will keep my brides happy, an emotion that escapes me, and find a new one. I only suit punishment on the mortals for the death.

Someday I will forget the memories, and forever remain Dracula.

Hollow Dracula.

One who feels no joy, no laughter, no pain, or love. One who once felt such things, but now long dead along with the soul. One who is not jaded by emotions, one who will strike without any regret. I feel no envy, no jealousy, no regret, or mercy. Things that hold back a person. But of course, I am not a person. I am hollow, I am perfect.

Forget the memories, and forever remember the fangs I bear.

My brides. . . My precious brides, they do not understand such a state as hollowness. For they weep, and fear for me. My brides that are replaceable, they feel for me. They love me, and give me what I need.

But I. . . I feel no love, no attachment to them like I did once. I only need them for certain purposes. But they stay with me, and they feel with me. They cry the tears I should shed, they feel the pains I should, and they scream in fear for me.

I feel no surprise when I see him killing my children. Hundreds of years and you, Gabriel finally appear. I feel no pain when you stab your silver steak into me.

Gabriel, I feel nothing.

Don't you see? I don't remember what it was like to be full. Memories that show me what once happened, do not give me what once happened. Memories that are hollow, curse a hollow man.

Gabriel, all I want is for my children to thrive. Do not fight me. That's all I want. For my people to survive in the coming centuries.

Gabriel. . .

Gabriel, I feel no fear as the full moon turns you into what you hunt. I only plea for life, so that I may see my children grow. I scream and i try to fly, because I, Gabriel, I should not die here. Because I am already dead.

Gabriel, I feel nothing as I bleed the blood that does not belong to me.

I do not feel the blood. I do not feel the coldness of the blood dripping down my cheek. I cannot remember what I last shedded blood, or at least I cannot remember what it felt like. I only remember feeding off blood.

Gabriel, I feel nothing as he cut me again and again. These wounds mean nothing to me, because inside me there is nothing. Nothing, do you hear me!?

For I am hollow, I feel nothing. My heart is gone, lost with so many memories. There is nothing inside me. Only me, and me alone. And I...I am a vampire.

Gabriel, I feel nothing as darkness surrounds my vision.

Is this death? I cannot remember what it was like to die...

I feel no regret in my life, and after life. I feel no pain in what I have done. No joy in it. No laughter. I feel no worry for my children or brides. None for my people. I feel no love in my life. I feel no lost in my life. I am hollow, I have no need for it.

Gabriel, am I dead yet? Have you killed me yet? Do I wish to live? I cannot recognize this feeling inside me. Is this longing to live? Is this, what is this? Whatever it is, it does not matter anymore.

Am I dead yet?

Because I see and feel nothing. Just like I always have. I see darkness, and I feel darkness just like I have always felt. For in living and in the death I am hollow.