Present

Wanna know how it all began? What made me the person I am today? What defined my destiny? It's a funny word, fate. Some would say we make our own future. Fate is rendered obsolete. I surely wasn't destined to be, well whatever I am now? What defined my story? I was an ordinary man, with ordinary hopes and wishes. How did that turn into, this? Still remember, the day, that changed it all.

Past

It was late, almost midnight, when I finally packed my things, and got out of my tiny office, into the streets. The back alleys looked empty & threatening. A sense of foreboding gripped me as soon as I saw the endless lanes of nothingness, like something was going to happen. But I shook those thoughts out of my head. I could hear my own footsteps echoing, behind me. The silence was all too powerful. I was scared. I remember sweating a lot. I wanted to get out of the alleys , the same ones I had known for so many years. But something about them made me uneasy that day. Suddenly I heard a noice behind me , prompting me to move faster towards my parked car. It was only a few feet away. But I never really got a chance, as I found a pair of strong arms around my neck , almost choking me. I screamed. He was a tall man , in dark clothes. I couldn't see his face. But his eyes glittered in the dark , which I was sure wasn't in my imagination & I could smell blood on me. He grinned at me. That's when I first noticed them & recoiled in horror? Was that my fate? I didn't have time to contemplate. He leaned in , & I could feel the sharp razors on my skin.

"Why" I screamed as he sprouted out his fangs, gave me a toothy grin, and bit me. I could hear myself cry, in acute pain & helplessness. I could hear my blood, & my life slowly draining out of my body. Silent whimpers left my lips. I almost cursed myself for such weakness. Nothing was worth debasing myself like that; not even my life. I closed my eyes, waiting for the darkness to blissfully engulf me. But even that eluded me. The pain became unbearable, like my whole body was on fire; someone was skinning me alive; which was actually true. My soul was being ripped apart &there wasn't anything I could do. I lay still as my tormentor continued drinking the last ounce of what had been once human. Slowly darkness dawned in, & I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, it seemed like ages. I felt like Rip van winkle, waking up after 20 yrs of sleep. I opened my eyes. Sharp rays of sunlight almost blinded me. It took a village for me to get adjusted to the light. My mind was still foggy. I looked around. Everything looked unfamiliar. I couldn't remember where I was, worse, who I was. I was lying in a dirty alley, soaked in blood; probably my own. My body stunk &i felt an insatiable hunger. I hadn't eaten in days perhaps. Was I a bum? I looked around, checked my pocket, a wallet. I took it out. It had an I D in it. Damon Salvatore, 23. So I was Italian. So why couldn't I remember my name? Why? What was the deal with my hunger? I looked at the ID again. Apparently I worked for the Red Cross, a social worker. So what on earth was I doing here? It didn't make sense.

I got up, unsteadily, almost like a drunk. I tried to move. But my legs gave away and fell flat on my knees. I was too weak to move. I wanted to scream in frustration. But nothing would come out of my mouth. Tears began to roll down my filthy face. Why hadn't anyone searched for me? Why didn't anyone miss me? Was I so alone &unpopular? I tried to shake these unhappy thoughts out of my mind when I saw her. She was in her early twenties, plump. I could smell her from her from a distance. She smelt, delicious. Wait! What? Before I could figure it out, the unfortunate girl had crossed the street &was within my reach. I pounced. Within seconds, I felt myself alive & strong, her lifeless body at my feet. I looked at her in horror. Flashes of memories began to flood in & I remembered everything, where I had come from, who I was; what had happened to me & also what I had become.