London, 1893
Jack Seward was sitting at the desk, recording his notes to the phonograph, when Christina materialized in his study.
"The patient is 45 years old woman, prone to paranoia and hallucinations. She cried when we put her to the strait-jacket..."
Ah yes, Christina thought, the sanity. The filthy sewer of sadism and waste, sickness of good people. They tormented the mad, they mocked them, they forced the mad to carry their own sins. Christina smiled a bit to the irony, to the unwholesomeness of it all, and then she stepped to the sight of the man.
Seward stopped his monologue and just stared.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? " Surprise. Anger. Disgust. Young doctor looked at dark red hair, scarlet dress decorated with roses and heathers, rosy complexion blooming with health and life. It was repulsion at first sight.
Christina nodded toward the tray. "Enjoying tea and refreshments? When your prisoners sit in the cells, eating gruel in the same room than their own filth?"
Seward started to get more angry. "Who are you?" he asked.
Christina smiled. Her ruby lips showed the pearl teeth, the sharp fangs.
"Your species are filth. Children, youth, adults... just filth. And then you are saying vampires are monsters. Better to be a monster than a human."
Seward stared at her teeth. "Who are you?!"
The water had been so dark and crystal-clear in the same time...
"Just a madwoman who died and came back to life. You know, gods did not punish me from suicide. My poor dazed head was not responsible. Instead they gave me the life I never had..."
Then she, the insane vampire, attacked the young, sane doctor.
