Fall, Year xx42

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          I hate being a vampire. I hate it. I despise it. Half a year has passed (perhaps more. Already my ability for keeping track of time seems to be slipping) since Lord Ryan "chose" me. I had never asked for it.

          The only reason I ever ran into him was because I was late in getting home. It was a nice night. I wanted to enjoy it. The stars were nearly as bright as the moon it seemed, and I couldn't help but smile when I looked up at them. The moment when I chose to take the long road back to my house in order to stay out longer sealed my fate.

          It seemed like the first corner I turned down he was there.

          He was finely dressed, indicating his obvious stature as a noble. A lord. The only abnormality was the body that crumpled limp on the ground and the scarlet blood that decorated the front of the lord's clothes.

          Quite understandably, I was frightened. However, the step I took back, whether it was silent or not, alerted the lord and his piercing eyes turned to me. His eyes were blood red, but even as I watched they faded into a dull brown that was the same color as his hair. When he saw me, he smiled.

          I'll never forget the first words he spoke to me, so quiet yet I could hear every word. With that smile, he whispered (and the words even make me shiver as I'm writing them) "My, what a pretty young thing. I think I'll keep you."

          Before I could move, he had his hands on me and his teeth was sinking into the skin of my neck. No sound escaped from my lips and I fell forwards in his grasp with little resistance although my mind was fighting as much as it could.

          Then I died.

          And I woke up in a strange room with chains encircling my wrists and neck. My hands were stained red and my lips tasted sweet.

          That was my first moment as a vampire.

          Lord Ryan, as I came to know him, described me as a difficult turn. I would agree, if I am being completely honest. I surprised myself when I had no trouble drinking the blood that was offered to me, although the offerings were few and far between in the beginning. Only if I was on the verge of a "frenzy" was I absolutely given nourishment, sooner if I "behaved" according to my sire.

          It didn't happen often that I was fed with time to spare before a frenzy. There were a few times when I crossed that line into a frenzy. I don't remember anything after that, until I woke up again with blood still on my lips and skin.

          The room Lord Ryan had given me was more like a mausoleum. Blank grey stone. I never knew whether it was night or day. I would have gone insane if Lord Ryan had not 'graced' me with his presence so often.

          I fought back against him as much as I was able to for as long as I could. But in the end, I had to relent. He wouldn't starve me and there was no possible way for me to escape and kill myself on my own.

          Eventually, I gave in and there was no more fighting.

          Lord Ryan was pleased, if I had to say so. Even still, the chains were taken off with caution and a quick hand was always ready to put me in my place.

          It was only yesterday that I was released from my chains and brought into this room. Lord Ryan gave me this diary as a 'gift'. I'm not exactly sure why, but I won't make a fuss about it. I can't count my blessings.

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