His Obsession

Eleven

My eyebrows furrow in confusion as my eyes stare at the top of the page, reading the date.

March 9, 1830

I never thought it was possible; to become something as monstrous as a vampire. But I did. I was turned and the thirst for human blood keeps getting increasingly stronger as the days pass. I've been feeding nonstop since I was turned; even women and children. I just can't seem to stop. The thing is, I don't feel bad for my victims anymore. I don't seem to care about anyone or anything anymore. My humanity has been turned completely off, I'm numb to everything. Cole's been handling the situation completely different. He feeds, but not nearly as much as me. I look at the world completely differently now. Humans are so weak compared to us. Being a vampire, you gain so much; speed, strength, all your emotions are heightened. Which is another reason I don't allow myself to feel. Sadness turns into despair. Anger turns into fury. But you lose so much as well. You lose your chance at love and a real life, a normal life.

I read his whole journal that night. I discovered that Dylan wasn't just anger, he was sadness. I found out his parents had this house built the same year him and Cole were born and that three years after they were turned, the villagers had set fire to it after finding out about the creatures they had become.

They rebuilt it after slaughtering the villagers two years later. I also learned that Dylan fell in love with a woman named Bethany. From how he described her, she was beautiful. She was around my age, with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He talked about her laugh a lot, and how she taught him how to feel again. He never said how she died, just that she was gone and never coming back.

He went crazy after her death, killing anyone and everyone just for the fun if it. It scared me, imagining Dylan like that. He hurt so much, worse than I ever have. Even loosing my parents was nothing compared to his story; his 226 years on this planet. He'd been through hell and back, which explained why he shut out everything. I immediately felt guilt rush over me for taking his journal.

I wipe a tear I didn't know was there, away. I shuffle out of Cole's bed and to the door. It creaks open as I peek down the hall. Cole still wasn't back from wherever he went. I tiptoe to Dylan's door, taking a breath as I knock. The journal stayed in my hands as I heard him getting up. Maybe I shouldn't do this. He would be outraged, maybe even kill me for this.

He could snap.

The doorknob turns, the door swinging open. His eyes land on me, then his journal.

It's too late.