Maximillion stood back and watched as his new childe, David, tore apart the body of his victim in an uncontrollable frenzy. The man had been dead now for about ten minutes, but David continued to disembowel the corpse until he could discover how to control the Beast that had conquered his mind and soul.

Another five minutes passed, and he waited patiently in the shadows. David's rabid behavior began to slow, until he sat on his knees, staring at what he had just done and breathing hard enough to have run a marathon at top speed. He looked up at Max, blood streaked across his face. "What just happened?" he asked and looked around the alleyway. "Wha—what did I do?"

"You embraced a new life," Max replied. The calm had returned to his voice. David looked like a lost child who took a wrong turn and realized his parents had disappeared around another corner. Still breathing heavily he staggered to his feet and looked at the gore that plastered his clothes. He was not frightened, just confused. Confused at the fact that his hunger had disappeared when he had not eaten real food in nearly three days. Confused because he felt like he had just woken up from a very restful sleep. Confused at the feeling of someone else's blood running through his veins, powering his body and invigorating his senses. But mostly he felt confused at what had just overcome his mind, then receded back once its thirst for blood was satiated.

He looked once more at Max's fatherly, smiling visage and ran in the opposite direction. Max let him go. He'll come back when the sun rises, he thought. I did. He walked over to the corpses on the ground – or what was left of them – and knelt next to the nearest one. Placing a hand on the man's forehead, he closed his eyes and felt the body turn to ash under his palm. Doing the same to the second man, he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the remaining blood off his right hand and made his way back toward the bookstore.

--

David ran aimlessly toward the pier, without thinking, looking back, or breathing. In his panic he failed to realize that he was never running short of breath or losing energy. No one was out on the streets. Shops were closed up, amusements shut down, and the last few drunkards were making their way home. He stopped to gain his bearings and remembered how me must look. "Damn it," he breathed and looked down again at his clothes.

He scanned the area and noticed a beachfront entrance. A set of stairs had been rebuilt since the earthquake that went straight onto the sand from the boardwalk.

"HEY!" A voice came out of the dark behind him. Turning, he saw a uniformed man holding a baton. "You lost, boy? It's a bit late for people to be wanderin' the pier."

David continued to stand there, becoming more and more aware of the red mess all over his face. "Did you hear me, boy?" The man called. David took a step back, not wanting the officer to see him clearly. "Where you goin'?" David turned toward the stairs and began to run.

"HEY!" The man followed David as he barreled down the stairs and streamed toward the breaking waves. The officer was a bit on the portly side, but he thought he was a good enough runner. Good enough to catch this hooligan, he thought. He looks like he's been through an ordeal already. He pelted after David, slipping a bit in the loose sand but nevertheless keeping pace.

David kept running, but he was soon running out of space before he reached the waves. He reached the wave-wet sand and veered left, narrowly escaping an outstretched hand of the man chasing him. He let out a grunt as he twisted out of reach and kept sprinting along the coast. The man continued the pursuit for a good two minutes before he stumbled to the sand, exhausted from running. David kept running even though he heard the officer collapse behind him. He wasn't tired. He wasn't even short of breath. He wasn't breathing.

He stopped as this discovery finally struck him. I'm not breathing… Impossible, he thought. He had to be sure. He veered back to the right and dove head first into a large wave. The water was freezing, but he did not care. Swimming out a good fifty yards, he took a breath and pushed himself under the water. He could not see anything; it was nearly pitch black under the water. Feeling his feet hit solid ground, he made his way farther from the shore. A wave hit him and his hair swirled around his face. Only now did he notice that his blonde locks were also stained with red, but it was slowly disappearing in the current of the seawater.

He sat on the ground, waiting to feel the pang of suffocation in his lungs. He almost welcomed it as an indication that this entire day had been a horrible dream. He waited for another ten minutes. Or what seemed like ten minutes. The watch Max had given him was safely stowed in his coat back at the bookstore. Finally he pushed himself off and drifted back to the surface. Smoothly he broke the top of the water, and resisted the instinct of taking a breath of air.

He swam back to shore, but did not want to return to the bookstore. The idea of it frightened him in a way. Everything strange that had happened to him in the last month took place in or around that building. He'd had his share of nightmares for the time being. Standing up, he shook the excess water out of his hair and clothes and started walking with the ocean to his right – the same direction he took when the officer chased him.