Un-beta'ed, you have been warned. Just wanted to get this out as fast as possible. Words like //this// are crossed out. Disclaimer: As per usual, I don't own. However, Lucien and the janitor-man are mine.

4 days (or 6, I'm forgetting) since last entry, 1920

I got some answers.

I'll try to get this down with as much detail and accuracy as I can recall.

The presentment that I was being watched continued, though whenever I tried to catch him at it, he wasn't around. Or even anywhere near, as far as I could tell. But I knew it was him. Don't know how, but I knew.

I was scared, but it was an excited kind of scared, partially out of relief that I was was doing anything, anything at all. Being here is enough to drive anyone insane with sheer boredom.

And then... IT happened.

Sorry. I'm being mysterious.

...Wait. Who am I talking (writing?) to? Maybe I am going insane.

Maybe I imagined this whole thing.

On with the story.

It's never fully dark at GPH. There are always lights in the hall and a night guard. So even though it was after "lights out" (our bedtime. I had a bedtime when I was five.) there was still enough light to see. Despite that, I never noticed //Him// him come into my room; he was just there. I jumped, but did not scream, I'm proud to say (though I'm not sure why I should be, or would want to be)

If this were a proper story, it would have mentioned that there is a window the approximate size of a postage stamp in my room and I was trying to look at the stars. I turned away and there he was. So I suppose that makes it less surprising that I didn't notice him.

He said sorry --for scaring me, I presume-- and I turned all the way around to watch him carefully. I didn't trust him. And I was alone with him, which scared me.

He was behaving in a strange way. He tried to pace, but it only takes about a step and a half to cross the width of the room and he didn't seem inclined to come closer to me. This was good; if he had, I might have screamed, or fainted (I've never fainted before, sounds interesting ...and a bit romantic). Then he got very still. I mean impossibly still. At some point he said "I can't do this anymore" and I made the marvelously intelligent response of: "huh?"

He looked at me for a second or two (well, his head turned in my general direction; it couldn't see his eyes at all, so it was impossibly to tell exactly where he was looking). It occurred to me that maybe he was blind (ha!) He went back to his nervous movement and at one point I thought he was going to punch the wall, but he just got very still again with his fist against the wall. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Then he said "This is harder than I thought." The words were so fast and quiet that I thought they might have been addressed to himself. He composed himself with obvious effort and turned again to face me. "Let me tell you a story."

I honestly believe that there was a single thought in my head at this point, so it was impossible for me to say anything.

He told it very haltingly, but gained momentum as he went. It went something like this:

"There was a man. In 1712. He was indentured to a merchant, along with two negroes. They were... badly treated. So the three of them ran away together. They made it nearly to Appalachia and thought that they had made it far enough that there was not much danger of being caught any longer. A man approached where they were staying that night (under a tree). I use the word man loosely. He was white like ivory or marble and his eyes were smooth garnets. He smiled and his teeth were whiter than his face. He was well dressed, so we naturally assumed that he'd turn us in, so we began to scramble to our feet, intending to run. In a heartbeat, he moved.

"They were dead before I'd even stood up. He turned to me. There was a split second when I had the chance to scream, but I stayed still. I was going to die, like Michael and Ali had died, and there was nothing I could do about it. I didn't fight, that would have been pointless, and besides, there was no time, but I'd be damned if I was scared to face Death --for that was who I thought had found us in the woods that night. He stopped short of killing me and met me eyes. He told me I looked like a strong one and that he'd have want of a companion.

"Then he bit me. It was pain like no other, and it wouldn't stop. But finally, after far too long, it did. I awoke to new strengths and sensations, which I learned to understand with Lucien's tutelage: I was a vampire. He wanted someone he could mold, and I'm afraid I did not satisfy him. I could not see the sport in killing, hunting, the fine art of control needed for torture. I like to say he loved me enough to understand that and let me go, but really he discarded me to look for another who could be what he wanted.

"After that I wandered. And killed. I should deny it, but I'm being honest now. I couldn't stop. I kept away from people as much as I could, but I was--am a slave to my hunger. That's why I'm here: looking for a meal that won't be missed. But

"But then I saw you. You don't belong here, you have too much fire, and joy, but this place is leeching that away. And... and I wanted you to see that you need your fire, you have given me new hope, for truth be told I had giving up. And now I'm standing here babbling like an idiot or a schoolboy though I have been past two hundred years in this world, and you don't believe me anyway. But I had to tell you something. And tell you that I knew you were losing in this place and that I don't want that."

And then he was leaving. I almost missed the motion. "Wait," I called. He turned. I didn't know what to call him. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Nathaniel."

I said nothing, so he figured I was done, and left silently. And for the life of me, I cannot remember what I was going to say.

The proper author's note:I wanted it to be after you read it. Lucien is my little homage to LaCroix (from Forever Knight). I tried to be historically accurate, but if I messed up, feel free to call me on that. I tried to keep the story within a story within a story as non-confusing as possible. What's the verdict on Nathaniel (he was almost called Jeremiah, but I came to my senses, thank god)? Sorry again for the delay; my life has been a real mess.