DISCLAMER: I do not claim ownership of any copyrighted material in this entire story.
WARNING: This has absolutely NO relation to the plot of the actual show of which I've only seen the first 6 episodes. So, excuse me if I know absolutely shit about the details in later episodes.
ON TO THE STORY!!!
Episode 2: The ArrivalA tap on the shoulder awakened Alexander Elbereth-Cherriworth… A stewardess looking about 19 with blue eyes and brown hair greeted his eyes, and what a greeting! She was decked out in navy and was all smiles. "Sir, we've landed. Please take all your baggage and things and exit from the front of the plane." She spoke with a thick British accent. There was something about her that struck Alex. Her irises seemed tainted with red, her front teeth elongated…
Alex grinned, bearing his own fangs.
"An American vampire!" She said softly, but surprised, "The stuff of legends!"
"Really?" Alex responded.
"You are one of a very rare breed."
"Actually, I've been a vampire for only about 18 hours."
"Really? Who made you?"
"Is the name Adriana Bella Cherriworth familiar to you?"
"Bloody hell!"
"What?"
The pilot called for her.
"I'm on leave for a week. I hunt in the east end. Meet me there tonight."
She left.
Alex got up and left the airplane. Alex took a shuttle into London. As he watched the scenery pass by in the sunlight. He looked away. This was Alex's first time outside the United States. Everything was alien; nobody existed for him to share his experience with. He glanced out the window, and for an instant thought he saw a reflection in the window of Laura leaning her head on his shoulder, but when he turned around he found the seat next to his empty. A tear fell from Alex's eye.
* * * * *
Laura woke up from the tear filled nap she had taken. She cried for her love, lost across the ocean. Probably at that moment Alex was in England. Was he thinking of her? Was he remaining true to her? Was he off cavorting with some beautiful British vampires, performing a blood ritual? The questions tore at her soul like piranhas on an unlucky cow. She looked in the mirror of a vanity in her room and something yellow caught her eye. It was parchment! Alex had left something for her? Or had he forgotten this? Laura read the parchment aloud. "London, 1574…" The letter was written by an ancient vampire who had passed on her powers to the man or monster she loved. She told him, rather vaguely, what to do upon receiving the letter, and whom to run from, and where to hide.
I will make a solemn vow to you, Alex, Laura thought, by the end of the summer; you and I will be together…forever.
* * * * *
Alex had an entire day to kill before he had to meet the stewardess, whose name he hadn't caught. Fortunately for alex, it was an overcast day, as most London days are, and he rarely had to fear the sunlight. He changed his money, bought a tourist map, and wandered around until he found himself at Trafalgar Square at about Eleven in the morning. Then he proceeded down Whitehall past all of the government buildings, until he was at the foot of Big Ben, that giant gothic clock that loomed as if sculpted by a giant out of a great redwood. He took some time to stand and relax as the cars passed by, around and around and around the square they went. Alex was suddenly in the middle of a world he had only seen in pictures, of an antiquated grandeur that he had never seen in any of his family ventures or class trips, and had nothing to do but wait.
"Excuse me, sir," came the voice of an American man, could you take our picture?"
Standing beside Alex were a young couple, obviously tourists. On their faces was written the overwhelming joy and hope of honeymooning lovers. Laura… His mind recalled a similar look on her face.
"Sure I will." He said, and seeing their expressions added, "Expecting a British accent? Well, I'm just another tourist, but it makes no difference, does it?"
"No, it doesn't." said the man, handing Alex the camera. Alex took the picture of the happy couple.
"Are you here alone?" said the wife, a redhead with big gray eyes.
"I'm afraid so," Alex responded, "my girlfriend couldn't come."
"You must be so lonely." She responded. "a handsome young man like you shouldn't be all alone."
The husband, who had brown hair bleached blond, rolled his dark eyes.
"Can he tag along?" she pleaded.
"Hey, wait a minute,," Alex said, not wishing to cause trouble, "I can tell you two are just married, and you're here to be with each other. Just go on without me."
"Oh, alright." She said.
They said goodbye, and the couple walked away.
Alex now decided to go to the famous "London Bridge". Pulling out his tourist map, he decided to take the famous "Underground" to get to it. So, Alex walked to the nearby Westminster stop and took the green line to Monument. The Underground was exactly what it's slang name described it as. A tube. He had heard stories of this transportation system, such as complaints of how complex it was, and the charming computerized voice that said, "Mind the gap!" All of these, it turned out, were true. Alex was glad that he wasn't on it at rush hour, because he had heard that the Tube was more packed than New York City trains. Alex walked up the stairs and exited the Tube for now.
The sun stabbed Alex's eyes from between clouds. He turned away, and quickly tried to heal them, but it was tough. A couple people asked him if he was okay, he said he was just a little light sensitive. That was an outright undersatement. He pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes just enough to keep out the sun of high noon, but still allow him to see.
Of course, the bridge was beautiful. Built in the neogothic style, the famous bridge had stood through ages. Alex ignored nagging sensations of boredom, walking back and forth over the Thames for maybe an hour or more, looking for a misplaced feeling of joy. There was none, and he moved on to the Tower of London, not very far away. The Tower had served as a prison, a palace, and a museum. Alex could very much relate. The tour was also about an hour, and even included a sighting of the British crown jewels, coveted throughout the world. Alex wandered, and wandered, and wandered, visiting parts of the museum ten times. Guards were beginning to give him suspicious looks, so he left.
Alex knew he didn't need to eat. He hadn't felt hungry "per se" since he had undergone the change. Nonetheless, he decided to eat. Alex wandered once again and found himself a quaint little restaurant. He sat down and ordered some very English-sounding dish. It turned out to be some cabbage, meat and potatoes. Not too bad but a bit on the bland side. Even after dessert, Alex still didn't feel full. Alex paid for the meal, and stepped out into the street, upon which the sun was finally setting.
What is it that feels so empty? Alex wondered. As full of life as the world seemed, it was all empty to him now. Nothing he once loved now satisfied him. Suddenly, Alex realized that the answer had been there deep inside of him. He had sold his soul! All of the beauty in the world, indeed, perhaps even Laura, meant nothing compared to a deep inner drive, sort of a primeval voice… calling… calling… calling… for blood!