I have to take a moment and explain my stance on the FREAKS.

They are humans that have had a chip implanted in their necks to trigger the changes into vampires, basically instant vampires.

Take one human, add one sillicon chip, mix by hand for two minutes, and bake for an hour.

They are an affront to everything I stand for. They have no idea of what it takes to be a Lord of the Night, a true No-Life King. I have, for close to fifteen hundred years now, been walking this earth and never have I seen such pitiful excuses for unlife before. They have no control over their abilities, no sense of discretion.

I remember one night in Walachia, gazing at the countryside and plotting a foray into a small village for a snack. I spent three nights planning that trek, which houses I would stalk by, which paths I would take to get there, and so on.

I know, you're wondering why I don't just phase out there, or mist to my target.

Why do that when it's such a lovely night out? That moon, such a lovely moon.

I don't know why it draws me so. It has a pull on me; so many events of my life have been centered about the moon, especially the full moon. My turning, the siring of many of my children, the turning of my brides, all took place under the full moon.

I'm a romantic, I suppose.

I have taken weeks to plan attacks, years to plan moves to new locales, decades to set up accounts and safe houses. I would cull the villagers that I would drink from, avoiding those that had tainted or unripe blood, drinking only from the 'vintage' vessels, leaving others to ripen and age.

FREAKS drink from whomever they come across, caring nothing for style, finesse, or subtlety, let alone discerning tastes.

They sully the name vampire, and as soon as the last of them is wiped out, I can be released to be what I am.

A true Vampire, a Lord of the Night.

And not have to worry about vermin tainting the food stock, attacking at will and overfeeding.

Hmmpphh.

They just have no pride in their work.