Well, my friends used to call me "The Mighty". That was, of course when I still had friends. They're all long-gone. They deserted me a long time ago. Bunch of bastards! Now it's just me. Which is okay, actually. I'm having fun on my own. I always was kind of a loner... Maybe I should tell you more about me.
Well, my name is Jake. I was 19 when I died. Yeah, that's right, I'm dead. That was a while ago too. Not too long, only about two or three years ago. That's as good a place as any to start...
I was 19, like I said and I had just graduated from highschool. They say that highschool is supposed to be the best time of your life. It really isn't. Don't let them fool you into believing it. I hated school and I was so glad when I graduated. Mind you, I almost didn't graduate. Near the end I just stopped caring ,there were more important things in my life. Y'know everything is more important than school. And at this point in time I had discovered myself. I had woken up from my long slumber in Suburbia and realised who-and-more importantly-what I was. I was Jake. I was "The Mighty". They called me that 'cause I refused to back down, ever. I wasn't the biggest guy in school, I wasn't the smallest. But I was the one you didn't want to cross whe I was angry. I'm still like that. I'm a pretty easy-going guy. I laugh a lot. It doesn't take much to get me started either.
Well, I discovered that life, as I knew it, was a lie. My parents were good, upstanding citizens and they wanted me to be as well. I always had been, until one day in church, the minister was going on, as usual. I was listening, as usual, but for the first time, I actually HEARD waht he was saying. And I didn't beleive a word of it! He was going on about sinning and being good and how being good and pure will lead you to heaven and being sinful will lead you straight to hell. I honestly could not think of one person in the room who had not commited at least one sin. I could think of several who had committed dozens, myself and parents included!
When we left, I was enraged. I couldn't believe it. On the ride home my parents were talking about the "lovely sermon" and asked me what I thought of it. I told them, exactly what I thought. They weren't surprised. They knew I was right. That, and they were used to my outbursts. I get like that sometime when I juat think so much I just burst. This was one of those times.
Anyway, that night I went out. I went downtown to the places I'd only walked by before. Walked by and wondered. I went in one shop with one seriously creepy looking guy behind the counter. He didn't even look up when I approached him. I tapped on the counter and finnaly he raised his eyes.
"Can I help you?" The guy said in a monotonous voice. I nodded.
"Yeah, I'm sick of this." I said in exhasperation
"Yeah, me too, working sucks!" I made a face, noting that I had to be more specific.
"No, with this.... Look!" I said pointing to my ensemble of khaki pants and blue polo sweatshirt. The guy nodded.
"So, you want a change, right?" I nodded "Okaaaaay, what did you have in mind?" I sighed and lowered my head.
"I have no idea...." The sales guy, wasn't deterred however and got me talking about church. Then he asked me a few simple questions.
"Ever wanna fondle a corpse?" I screwed up my face in disgust.
"God no!"
"Ever get so mad you could just scream, jump around and smash stuff?" I thought for a minute.
"Yeah..." He smiled
"I have JUST the thing for you!"
When I left, I was quite the sight. The guy had me dressed the way I felt. I looked fantastic. After taking a pair of dull scissors to my jeans he selected a t-shirt for me. It was yellow. Bright yellow and it had pink and black letering across it. It read: NEVER MIND THE BOLLOCKS, HERE'S THE SEX PISTOLS. I laughed and put it on. Only of course after he explained what "bollocks" were. Testicles, interesting. Then of course he handed me a denim vest that looked like it had seem better days. It was soiled, stained, torn and covered in studs, spikes and patches. All in all, it was quite something.
"No matter what you do, don't leave home without it. It'll be your trademark!" I smiled and put it on. So far, so good. Then of course, came jewlery. I was outfitted with a spiked dog collar. I was of course, apprehensive but once it was on, it looked like it was a part of me. Same goes for studded wristbands. I was given two. After that he presented me to a full-length mirror. I admired myself for a minute and smiled. The he said something.
"There's just one thing mising." I turned and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" I wondered what it could possibly be.
"Hair, you look like a badly-dressed suburbanite"
"Okaaaayyy. What do you reccomend to fix it?" The guy just smirked.
"Come with me."
I was led into a back room. It was dark until the light was turned on and I saw it was nothing more than a storage room. Suddenly I heard a buzzing noise, like the hairdressers. This guy was going to give me a haircut! I had to wonder though, if he was doing it for me, how many times had he done this before? Anywa,y when he was done, I was left with only a strip of hair runnind donw the middle of my head. The guy called it a "mohawk" and asked what my favourite colour was. I told him green. Next thing I knew, this "mohawk" was green. Damn, I was quite a sight. The guy reccomended a few CD's that I should pick up. I bought one, the same one advertised on my t-shirt. I also bought a few more t-shirts off this guy.
Well, when I got home that night, my parents were, well they were a lot less thrilled than I was about my apperance. I was grounded for the very first time in my life. Damn, already I'm in trouble, I didn't even feel bad though, in fact I felt really good. I went to bed that night listening to some English guy screaming his larynx out. It was great.
My freinds thought I was on drugs. They honestly didn't beleive that a guy like me could go through a whole metamorphisis in a weekend. I told the mto beleive it. I was pretty much the only one of "my kind" at school. I lived i na sizeable town and pretty much everyone dressed the same. I honestly couldn't beleive it, until I saw things from the outside. I was a punk now. I had to stand my ground.
My freinds started to hang out with me less and less. I got stranger and stranger looks from teachers and freinds parents alike. I was enjoying myself highly. I never left home without my denim vest and I even found a club where they advertised "goth/punk" music. I had no idea what a "goth" was, but I soon found out.
The place was small and dark, it reeked of smoke and sweat. I couldn't stand it at first, but soon, it was like home. I fit right in, there were a few mohawks, like mine. I got quite a lot of compliments on it as well. I looked the part, my only fear was, Could I act it?
The time came soon enough when the music started and the place was nearly full. I talked toa few people, not too many and I jumped in the "moshpit". That was heaven! I slammed and hurled myself angainst people I hardly knew and when I fell down there was always someone to help me up. It was fantastic. Soon though, I was thirsty and got myself a beer. I was sitting at the bar, drinking slowly when a tall guy with long black hair and matching attire approached me.
"You're new here?" I nodded.
"I thought so, you don't look familiar, I would have recognised you" I nodded again and belched. He kinda smirked and leaned close to me.
"My name is Armand." I looked at him, a bit annoyed.
"Yeah, so?"
"So, my defiant, young one, come with me." So I did. He led me away, to the back of the club and then turned to face me.
"Look at me and tell me about your anger" I told him about church and the guy at the store. He nodded and listened. When I was done he smiled. Then he jumped on me and almost knocked me off my feet. He was smaller than me and looked to be about my age. But then, something really weird happened. I blacked out, I don't remember a damn thing.
When I awoke it was dark, I was still in the club, only it was just me and him. He said:
"You're a vampire now."
And that was it. He told me what I needed to know and unleashed me upon the world. That's where my story begins.
Well, my name is Jake. I was 19 when I died. Yeah, that's right, I'm dead. That was a while ago too. Not too long, only about two or three years ago. That's as good a place as any to start...
I was 19, like I said and I had just graduated from highschool. They say that highschool is supposed to be the best time of your life. It really isn't. Don't let them fool you into believing it. I hated school and I was so glad when I graduated. Mind you, I almost didn't graduate. Near the end I just stopped caring ,there were more important things in my life. Y'know everything is more important than school. And at this point in time I had discovered myself. I had woken up from my long slumber in Suburbia and realised who-and-more importantly-what I was. I was Jake. I was "The Mighty". They called me that 'cause I refused to back down, ever. I wasn't the biggest guy in school, I wasn't the smallest. But I was the one you didn't want to cross whe I was angry. I'm still like that. I'm a pretty easy-going guy. I laugh a lot. It doesn't take much to get me started either.
Well, I discovered that life, as I knew it, was a lie. My parents were good, upstanding citizens and they wanted me to be as well. I always had been, until one day in church, the minister was going on, as usual. I was listening, as usual, but for the first time, I actually HEARD waht he was saying. And I didn't beleive a word of it! He was going on about sinning and being good and how being good and pure will lead you to heaven and being sinful will lead you straight to hell. I honestly could not think of one person in the room who had not commited at least one sin. I could think of several who had committed dozens, myself and parents included!
When we left, I was enraged. I couldn't believe it. On the ride home my parents were talking about the "lovely sermon" and asked me what I thought of it. I told them, exactly what I thought. They weren't surprised. They knew I was right. That, and they were used to my outbursts. I get like that sometime when I juat think so much I just burst. This was one of those times.
Anyway, that night I went out. I went downtown to the places I'd only walked by before. Walked by and wondered. I went in one shop with one seriously creepy looking guy behind the counter. He didn't even look up when I approached him. I tapped on the counter and finnaly he raised his eyes.
"Can I help you?" The guy said in a monotonous voice. I nodded.
"Yeah, I'm sick of this." I said in exhasperation
"Yeah, me too, working sucks!" I made a face, noting that I had to be more specific.
"No, with this.... Look!" I said pointing to my ensemble of khaki pants and blue polo sweatshirt. The guy nodded.
"So, you want a change, right?" I nodded "Okaaaaay, what did you have in mind?" I sighed and lowered my head.
"I have no idea...." The sales guy, wasn't deterred however and got me talking about church. Then he asked me a few simple questions.
"Ever wanna fondle a corpse?" I screwed up my face in disgust.
"God no!"
"Ever get so mad you could just scream, jump around and smash stuff?" I thought for a minute.
"Yeah..." He smiled
"I have JUST the thing for you!"
When I left, I was quite the sight. The guy had me dressed the way I felt. I looked fantastic. After taking a pair of dull scissors to my jeans he selected a t-shirt for me. It was yellow. Bright yellow and it had pink and black letering across it. It read: NEVER MIND THE BOLLOCKS, HERE'S THE SEX PISTOLS. I laughed and put it on. Only of course after he explained what "bollocks" were. Testicles, interesting. Then of course he handed me a denim vest that looked like it had seem better days. It was soiled, stained, torn and covered in studs, spikes and patches. All in all, it was quite something.
"No matter what you do, don't leave home without it. It'll be your trademark!" I smiled and put it on. So far, so good. Then of course, came jewlery. I was outfitted with a spiked dog collar. I was of course, apprehensive but once it was on, it looked like it was a part of me. Same goes for studded wristbands. I was given two. After that he presented me to a full-length mirror. I admired myself for a minute and smiled. The he said something.
"There's just one thing mising." I turned and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" I wondered what it could possibly be.
"Hair, you look like a badly-dressed suburbanite"
"Okaaaayyy. What do you reccomend to fix it?" The guy just smirked.
"Come with me."
I was led into a back room. It was dark until the light was turned on and I saw it was nothing more than a storage room. Suddenly I heard a buzzing noise, like the hairdressers. This guy was going to give me a haircut! I had to wonder though, if he was doing it for me, how many times had he done this before? Anywa,y when he was done, I was left with only a strip of hair runnind donw the middle of my head. The guy called it a "mohawk" and asked what my favourite colour was. I told him green. Next thing I knew, this "mohawk" was green. Damn, I was quite a sight. The guy reccomended a few CD's that I should pick up. I bought one, the same one advertised on my t-shirt. I also bought a few more t-shirts off this guy.
Well, when I got home that night, my parents were, well they were a lot less thrilled than I was about my apperance. I was grounded for the very first time in my life. Damn, already I'm in trouble, I didn't even feel bad though, in fact I felt really good. I went to bed that night listening to some English guy screaming his larynx out. It was great.
My freinds thought I was on drugs. They honestly didn't beleive that a guy like me could go through a whole metamorphisis in a weekend. I told the mto beleive it. I was pretty much the only one of "my kind" at school. I lived i na sizeable town and pretty much everyone dressed the same. I honestly couldn't beleive it, until I saw things from the outside. I was a punk now. I had to stand my ground.
My freinds started to hang out with me less and less. I got stranger and stranger looks from teachers and freinds parents alike. I was enjoying myself highly. I never left home without my denim vest and I even found a club where they advertised "goth/punk" music. I had no idea what a "goth" was, but I soon found out.
The place was small and dark, it reeked of smoke and sweat. I couldn't stand it at first, but soon, it was like home. I fit right in, there were a few mohawks, like mine. I got quite a lot of compliments on it as well. I looked the part, my only fear was, Could I act it?
The time came soon enough when the music started and the place was nearly full. I talked toa few people, not too many and I jumped in the "moshpit". That was heaven! I slammed and hurled myself angainst people I hardly knew and when I fell down there was always someone to help me up. It was fantastic. Soon though, I was thirsty and got myself a beer. I was sitting at the bar, drinking slowly when a tall guy with long black hair and matching attire approached me.
"You're new here?" I nodded.
"I thought so, you don't look familiar, I would have recognised you" I nodded again and belched. He kinda smirked and leaned close to me.
"My name is Armand." I looked at him, a bit annoyed.
"Yeah, so?"
"So, my defiant, young one, come with me." So I did. He led me away, to the back of the club and then turned to face me.
"Look at me and tell me about your anger" I told him about church and the guy at the store. He nodded and listened. When I was done he smiled. Then he jumped on me and almost knocked me off my feet. He was smaller than me and looked to be about my age. But then, something really weird happened. I blacked out, I don't remember a damn thing.
When I awoke it was dark, I was still in the club, only it was just me and him. He said:
"You're a vampire now."
And that was it. He told me what I needed to know and unleashed me upon the world. That's where my story begins.
