The life of a vampire.
Disclaimer: I do not own final fantasy 7 or any of its characters other than my own.
Introduction.
The death of a warrior.
Its funny isn't it? How life can sometimes be so strange that you forget who you are and what you used to be. Life as a vampire isn't all that hard, if you're used to it. However, life doesn't start with vampirism, it starts as most stories end, with the death of the hero. This is one such tale, as it begins with the death of a single man whose life was changed forever. That mans name was, Vincent.
It was early evening, the wind blew crisp threw the desolate village of Kalm.
I was making my way towards the nearby inn after a whole night of vampire hunting. The innkeeper, as usual, smiled at me as I walked in, "how many tonight then Vincent? Bet they didn't stand a chance huh lad?" his toothless grin sickens me but I press this down and smile as best I can, "I shot 5 tonight john, nothing to it," I smirk as he shuffles his feet over to the counter, his huge stomach shuddering with every step, "so, what can I do for u tonight then lad?" he leans over the counter, the wood strains with his weight.
"Just a glass of water please," I struggle to stop myself from heaving. A strand of black hair falls across my face, resulting in a grin from john. I stare blankly at him,
"What's funny?"
"You need a haircut my boy!"
I sit down on a stool in front of the bar, "yeh I'll get it cut tomorrow perhaps."
I gulp down the water and get up to go upstairs, john stares at me but says nothing.
Back in my room, I thro myself onto the huge double bed. The black sheets swirling around me. I stare at the ceiling for a few moments before boredom takes over and I get back up again. I study my arm, two bite marks, dam vampires I think to myself. I had been bitten and the blood would not stop flowing as I took of the bandage that I had used to conceal it from the innkeeper. I felt light-headed and lay back down. I felt the blood oozing down my arm and shuddered, sitting up as best I could, leaning against the wall this time. I grab a towel from the nearby table and wrap it around the wound. Slowly, the blood seeps threw it dammit! Frustrated I leap up and pace the room, heavy metal boots slamming into the floor, still more blood seeps out the towel, dripping onto the floor, making a trail across the room.
After an hour of pacing, I collapse onto the bed exhausted and feeling drained, literally. A large pool of blood had formed in the floor while I was pacing and I was feeling weak and unable to move. Slowly I close my eyes, the drowsiness now too strong. A buzzing fills my head, colours swirl around my eyes as I slowly fall un conscious.
Death was not something that I was expecting to happen to me that night. John came up soon after I fell. It was strange that I could still hear his piggish voice, even though I was supposedly dead. My body was numb and my eyes remained closed but somehow I still felt…..alive. Like I was living within a dead body. My mind was telling me to wake up but my body refused from the lack of blood, or so I thought. Little did I know the true horror that awaited me, the true horror of the life of a monster.
Author's note: hey second story up, hope you guys like this one. It's a tad different from my last one though. Anyway plz read and review. Got tonnes to write.