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Syndel's Spire
Syndel's Spire

Introduction
My texts (78)
My series (10)

PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel

Halfquake:
Mania

Level:
74

Total kills:
19,843,348

Birthday:
00th 0000

Diary of a vampire, entry 9

Mood:neutral
Type:Story
Added:February 01st 2009, 02:23:18
Visits:1045
Series:[ Diary of a vampire. ]
Rating:5/5 (Votes: 1)

Description:
Posted this a while back on my Deviantart. Posting it here now with edits and additions.

Please comment :)

13/08/07

Despite the many trials of last night I found it almost impossible to sleep, knowing the man I had come to trust to guide me through my transformation from boy to beast was also a cold blooded murderer. When I did finally sleep images of Benolt and the man who had died filled my dreams, and as though a bloody filter was draped over my eyes I was forced to witness the brutality over and over again, and felt the beast inside my yearning for the combat, the raw unrestrained violence of the act. My blood boiled at the thought but I could not wake, for the sun outside fixed me to my nightmare, trapping me within the tempest of horrors which tormented me. I was an unwilling slave to the will of the beast within my subconscious, and found myself reliving my darker acts that evening and the acts which turned me from a human to a predator.

I awoke fitfully, I could feel my mind beginning to awaken, and as the nightmares faded I found myself once again in the familiar room in Benolt's house. I was immediately sat up on guard, acutely aware that I was extremely vulnerable, but my head still swimming from the confusion of a dream-like state. After looking around the room and seeing no direct threats I calmed myself and lay back down. I wiped my forehead, expecting to find sweat from my nightmare but only found cold hard skin, solid and completely rigid. I then noticed that since I had become a vampire things like temperature and fear didn't seem to provoke the same reaction as before, and I realised I had not noticed myself sweating or even feeling hot or cold since my transformation. It kind of made sense really, since I hadn't been wearing anything particularly heavy or warm yesterday on a cold autumn evening.
Somehow analysing new traits of my body calmed me and distracted me from the dream and so I decided I'd get dressed and then work out my actions from there.

'Logically,' I thought, 'since I'm still alive Benolt has no intention of physically harming me, although he doesn't seem to shy away from harming others'. Benolt's motivation was the big unknown here. Despite the act, and having witnessed it myself, I found it hard to believe that Benolt would have murdered someone for no reason. Everything he had told me about himself and his life gave no indication of evil intentions. I decided eventually that I would confront him and discover what this was truly all about. After all, there was no point in running for where was there to run to?
I found Benolt downstairs at the kitchen table, cleaning the dual barrels of “Betty”, the sawn-off shotgun. He glanced at me when I entered but then returned to his work, quietly running a rag on a stick through the barrels. I sat down opposite him and watched him work.
Cleaning the gun seemed to take up practically all his attention. A sawn-off shotgun is an easily maintained weapon, requiring practically no disassembly and only cleaning of the barrels and trigger mechanism to function. The buckshot was inserted manually so there was no loading mechanism or ejecting mechanism for spent ammunition. I watched with a sort of detached interest, having never seen a gun in real-life, but being incredibly conscious of the damage it could cause, but more interesting then the gun itself was the way Benolt treated it. Every action he made was confident, not forced and almost automatic. It made me wonder just how long Benolt had had the gun.
Eventually he had finished, and giving one last squirt of oil to the hinged barrel laid it down sideways on the table and turned his attention on me.
“So, you think me a murderer,” he said.
I nodded. It was true.
“And yet you're still here.” He grunted.
I nodded again. “I want to know why you killed him,” I said, trying as firmly as I could to keep my voice steady.
“Of course you do, lad. I'd do the same in your position, unfortunately for you I can't tell you.”
“Why not?” I replied, confused at his sudden reluctance.
“It's politics. Damn politics. Look, the fact is with you're little stunts last night you've attracted some... let's say, 'attention' from some of the higher ups in vampire society. The way I understand it they view me harbouring you here as some sort of violation of their laws, laws of which I'm forced to follow or I may find myself at the displeasure of the vampire's court.” He spat the last word. “The long and short of it is you've got one day before they come to collect you.”
“What? Who?” I asked, shocked.
“The vampires stupid, aren't you listening?” I could tell Benolt was nervous, he'd started rolling a shell casing between his fingers. “They're coming to collect you tomorrow afternoon, as soon as the sun goes down, them and that bastard Hail.”
“What?! Hail?!” I said, past shock and into fear now. “He gave me this curse! Why does he want me?!”
“Huh? Really?” Benolt asked.
I nodded.
“Sun'va... Right... well, them's the break's kid. Look, remember what I've told you, they're animals over there, and don't run – they'll find you.” Benolt put the shell casing down and looked me in the eye “And hey, you've still got one day left, use it well, eh?”
I just sat there shocked and said nothing. Benolt seemed to accept this as an answer and said “Look, I've got to clean some things up, here have a read through this,” he handed me a newspaper page. “I'll be back around midnight, lock the door if you go out.” and with that he left.

I sat there, dumbstruck for a while. I realised that I had formed a sort of bond with Benolt. I felt his pain when he had told me of his wife and I shared his hatred of vampires, despite being one myself. I also realised I shared his apparent fear of the wrath of the vampires, and the uncertainty surrounding my future. Reluctantly I accepted Benolt's words. Having seen my own vampire powers in their infancy I found it difficult to believe I had any chance of escaping the other vampires and perhaps it would even give me a chance to finally face Hail. Alternatively they could just be trying to hunt me down and kill me, but if that was their aim they're a little too “late”. Well, I thought it was funny anyway.

My last day of freedom then, and all left to myself. The evening air filtering through the windows once again gave new life to my bones and I felt the invigorating call of the outdoors. Despite everything I felt alive, awake and ready to face the world, but for once my thoughts turned away from the life of a vampire and instead settled on something far more familiar. I heard her name whispered from my lips, flowing through the air. “Mellisa...”. Suddenly I was infused with the feelings of a past life. At one point me and Mellisa had been close. I had never had much interest in anyone before but there was some spark of life in her which I was paralysed to watch but warmed my heart. I used to stare at her across the classroom trying to work up the courage to say something to her, maybe compliment her on her art-work or something. Once she caught me staring and I looked away, feeling my cheeks blush. When I looked back up she was fully engaged in her work and had her back to me again.
Even when I worked up the courage to say something to her I'd rarely get the chance, until one day when I was heading back from school on the bus. I was sitting, glancing out of the window when her voice came from behind me.
“Hey, uhh... Mike?”
I turned and saw her looking at me.
“No, not mike, Marvin?”
“Matthew,” I supplied.
“Oh of course, Matthew, you're the guy who does all those cool pictures in art, right?” She asked.
“Uhh, yeah I guess. I mean, they're not that cool, they're just sort of stuff...” I said.
“Hey, can I sit here?” She asked.
“Yeah, sure.” I said.
So that's how we properly met. Hardly the most dramatic moment in my life but then we got talking about stuff, mostly school. She invited me to go bowling with her and some friends. I agreed without question and the more I got to know her the more interesting she became. We were really just friends and at our age when we first met we weren't really truly aware of relationships as a whole but we stayed close and the rumors of us two going out didn't seem to matter, we just had fun and it just sort of turned into dating from there. I guess really I was lucky to find someone who was able to have a relationship without treating it as a huge deal, allowing it to change naturally. It should really be a lot easier to fall in love with a friend then someone you don't know at all, after all you can have a great deal of trust in a friend without ever having the commitment of a relationship. I guess really it's just a natural progression. Looking back on it now I probably loved her from day one anyway, I just didn't know what love was at the time. I guess other people would've said it's just a crush or something but there was more to it than that.

I decided I must see her, if only just once more. Despite her running away after my rage, a life that seems decades ago, I felt sure she would understand, that it was just momentary fear which drove her away. Surely I would mean more to her than could be repulsed by just one violent outburst. As I got up out of my chair a thought dropped into my mind like a heavy weight. I am now a vampire, will she still like me? Would she even recognise me? Am I just hoping for support from someone who will just find me horrid, or worse, scary? I had no choice, for better or worse, I must know.

Lost in my thoughts I'd completely forgotten about the newspaper page Benolt had handed me and only as I turned to leave did I catch the headline.

Gruesome Murder in Gableton Garden!
Police issued a statement this morning describing a brutal scene as a man of unknown age was found brutally mutilated in Gableton Garden park. Between the hours of 7pm and 3am last night a single gunshot was heard in the surrounding area, with one witness describing the shot as “like a cannon blast, or some sort of explosion.” Police arrived at the scene within minutes of the shot but failed to apprehend a fleeing suspect, who slipped by police searches of the park and was spotted leaving by PC Lockheart, who described the suspect as “Tall, white male with an incredible turn of speed.” PC Lockheart pursued the suspect for several streets but lost track of him.
A man of similar description was later reported to have assaulted Elizabeth Cooper (68), who is now under questioning.
Local MP Michael Loury spoke out today calling this most recent crime a “symbol of today's cultural decline and rise of gang-crime and called for-


I stopped reading. Suddenly my blood ran cold with fear. She had recognised me and would be telling the police my identity right this moment. Perhaps she already had and they were questioning my parents, or worse had posted photos of me and alerted everyone. I had gone from looming dread over being taken by vampires to facing a lynch mob who knew my appearance and suspected me of murder. I realised with horror that I had run into Elizabeth just streets away from Benolt's house. Images flooded my mind of police knocking on every door in the street and blockading the road as they thoroughly searched each house. I decided instantly I had to flee, but where to? Again Melissa entered my mind. Perhaps she would understand. So I left, taking a thick hooded coat to cover my head and locking the door as Benolt asked.



Stepping outside was like stepping into another world. It was a grey, windy night, the sun's glow still visible on the horizon over the terraced houses and warmly lit windows. I felt the wind touch my skin but still felt no chill. My hands were whiter than usual, with blue veins clearly visible just below the surface. Feeling the pockets of Benolt's coat I found a pair of gloves and although not cold I put them on anyway, concious of looking conspicuous. Even though I could not feel the cold I could still sense it, taste it in the air. As I walked down Benolt's street I felt an increased sense of purpose. The outside air invigorated me, calling to something inside of me, the predator was awakening.

As natural as the supernatural can be, a vampire's natural hunting ground is outside. A dark secluded alley, a quiet street in suburbia, a rooftop under a full moon, these things call to a vampire, both their minds and their hearts, and possibly even their souls. I knew what Benolt had told me, that I had lost my soul, having had it torn from me and forced to treat humankind as prey, rather than counting myself among them, but the truth was I still felt like me. I had emotion, I had feeling, I had joy and I had worry but buried among all those other emotions I had love.
I'd never really expressed my feelings to Mellisa, I always dodged emotional questions, even when we kissed. She had complained at me for my lack of commitment the day before they burned my painting. Of all things in life I found relationships the hardest. When I had met Mellisa my life had been changed for the better. I had found focus, and respect. Before I had had no friends in real-life, only people I half-knew and didn't want to know. I guess I was shy really, but driven by no real desire to know anything about people. That is, until she came. Soon I knew everything about her, her favourite colour, her favourite movie, what made her laugh and what made her cry. Still I could not say I loved her. Something always held me back. It was probably fear. Fear of what love would mean for me. It frustrated me so much to hear other guys saying they loved a girl, when I could see in their eyes they would leave them in a moment. Guys were saying that just so the girls would be physically interested in them. With Mellisa we had never even been too physical. We spent hours just talking sometimes, sometimes about nothing at all.

Already the streets were dark, speckled by streetlights illuminating the cars parked all along the terraced houses. I had walked to Mellisa's house many times but I'd rarely stayed inside long. It seemed every time I visited her parents were waiting to greet me with questions about my life, “Do you have a job yet? How do you feel about accounting?” or some other question concerning what they believe people of my age should ideally be doing. I suppose really they just want the best for Mellisa but I feel they have no right to dictate how I should live my life and I actually found it insulting that they should believe I would not do right by her. They had certainly never let me see her room or left us alone for more than five minutes at a time. In the end it was Mellisa who suggested we avoid staying at her house, though she did tell me that if ever I needed to see her the tree outside was close enough to her window to sneak in and out of her room. This would be my method of entry tonight.

Keeping track of time as a vampire is sometimes rather difficult, I'd never even had a good sense of time when I was alive, and I had failed to glance at the clock before leaving. I judged it to be some time after 11pm, Mellisa would likely be in her room watching tv or preparing for bed. Normally I'd simply have waited till tomorrow but time was against me, and thoughts of fear instilled a sense of urgency within me. Mellisa's house was in a better part of town than my own. Her father was a doctor or lawyer or some snooty profession, I can never remember what. They were all part of neighbourhood watch schemes and community policing as well, I had to be fairly cautious around this end of town, especially with the threat of being a fugitive, wanted for murder and god knows what else they would try to pin on me.

Thankfully the streets were mercifully clear, with only one or two people out for late evening strolls or walking their dogs. Just as I was rounding the last corner to Mellisa's street I almost walked straight into a man walking with a big Doberman dog. Before I knew what was happening the dog had leapt up at me and was barking loudly in my face as the man struggled to control it. After a few seconds the man restrained the dog, pulling it away. I felt up towards my face and felt thick scratches and what were possibly bite marks from the dog.
“Jesus, boy get down” The man shouted at the dog. “Sorry, fella, you okay? I don't know what got into him, did he bite you? Here, let me have a look at you.”
“No, no.” I replied hurriedly, shielding my face.
“Come on, it's okay, let me help you.” He said, the dog still audible growling an almost bestial growl at it's owners feet.
“No, I'm fine, honestly. Barely a scratch, bye!” I said, trying to simultaneously cover the bleeding from the cuts.
“Look, mate” He said, grabbing my arm. “I'm really sorry, but you can't tell anyone he hit you okay, please.” I glanced up at his face. The man wore a serious expression, and behind it a fear. “If you tell somebody he attacked you he'll be put down. You hear that? They'll kill him. How much to make you forget about this, eh?”
“What? No, just let me go.” I said, trying to fight the iron grip the man had on me.
“You don't understand, me and the wife love him” He replied, the Doberman still bearing it's teeth towards me. “I don't know what's got into him, here, just take this and we'll say no more about it, eh? Fair's fair.” The man reached into his pocket and withdrew £50 and handed it to me. Instinctively I reached out with the hand that had been covering my face and took it in my bloody fingers.
“Jesus.” The man said as he looked at my face, then glanced away. “Doesn't that hurt?”
“I'm fine, bye!” I said, and wrested my arm from his grip, running down the road.

The bleeding wasn't too bad really, but my face must've been pretty cut up to cause such a reaction. I realised as I reached Mellisa's house that it would be foolish to go in and find her straight away, instead I decided to climb the tree and stay for a while. I looked around the street for anyone watching, but finding no one I quickly clambered up the tree. It was an old, thin tree with very low branches and was fairly easy to climb, if a bit shaky. It was only really mid-autumn yet it was completely leaf-less. Once in the tree I could relax. The light from the porch illuminated only the bottom half of the tree, and simply hiding on the other side shielded me from light coming from the house. I was hidden, this time not by blood but by stealth.
My face stung slightly from the wounds of the dog. The cuts had stopped bleeding before I reached the top of the tree and I felt fine otherwise. Suddenly a reminder of what Benolt had told me hit me as I felt the beast stir within me, a deep sensation in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly I felt full of fear. What if I couldn't control it again? What if it made me do something horrible? The consequences of losing control of myself here... it didn't bear thinking about. The beast was aware of my panic, and I could feel it grow more powerful. Despite my panic I tried to focus on calming myself. I instinctively knew the beast could only control me if I let it, and I tried to convince my mind I didn't need the warm, intoxicating blood, that I didn't need the thrill and passion of the hunt.
Suddenly as I was on the brink of losing my sanity as the beast uncoiled around my heart it ended. Just as quickly as it had began the feeling faded. All that remained was sudden cold, the first cold I had felt in a week. It was a cold that came from within and spread outwards to every part of my body, a sheer ice which filled my veins, but only for moments. I breathed deeply and shivered as I recovered. I had done it. I had controlled it. It was gone...
... for now. The environment returned with a jolt, distant sounds of moving traffic filled my ears as if right next to me and the wind blew by like a hurricane as I readjusted to the world. The reason I was here returned to my mind, as did the thought of the dog attack and I noticed my face did not sting any more. Sending a tentative hand to my face I felt only smooth skin, not traces of bites or scratches anywhere.
Across the other side of the tree, inside Mellisa's window a light turned on and a voice said from within: “Okay, I'll go to bed, I've just got to watch the rest of this first. It'll only be about 10 minutes.” came the voice of my girlfriend, the sweet intonations music to my ears even now. She had a cable television in her room as well as many other luxuries most of my friends didn't have. She was probably planning to watch the rest of whatever was on then go to bed. If I was going to go, now would probably be the time.
Cautiously I crept around the side of the tree, making as little noise as possible. The window had it's curtains drawn but the actual pane itself was wide open and one of the thicker branches of the tree was only a foot away from the opening. It was the work of moments to get to the window and gain purchase on the frame. I hadn't really planned on how to meet her, only that if she screamed I would ran as fast as possible. As I crouched in her window, only the curtain separating us I paused.
“Mellisa,” I whispered. I heard a gasp from within the room and after a moment the television was muted and I heard her walk towards the window.
“Who's there,” she whispered back.
“It's Matt,” I said. “Please, I need to talk to you.”
“What do you think you're doing?!” she hurriedly whispered, pulling the curtains aside. “Oh my god, what's happened to you?” she asked. “You're so pale and thin!”
“It's a long story, I'll explain some other time,” I said.
She nodded and took hold of my hand to pull me inside. As she did so she gasped. “You're ice cold!”
“I'm fine,” I said, I didn't feel cold at all.
“Where've you been?” she asked. “After that day at school... I felt really guilty. I shouldn't have blown you off like that.”
“It's okay,” I said. “I shouldn't have hit them, but listen, none of that matters now. I have to tell you I'm going away. I don't have and choice in the matter. It's not my fault okay, something has happened. I can't tell you what. You'd freak out. If this all works out okay I'll... I'll call you, okay?”
“But why? What's going on? You're parents have been on the news you know, they're looking for you. They're worried Matt. I'm worried.”
Suddenly her fathers voice came from downstairs. “Hey, Mell, change to the news.”
“Okay, dad,” she said, and I hoped only I could detect the shaky quality to her voice. She obediently switched channel to the news and I saw with horror the story they were covering.
...and earlier today police brought in a witness who says they saw the murderer fleeing the scene, we cannot name the witness for legal purposes but the police have witnessed a statement saying that they are looking for one Matthew Harrowdale for questioning in connection with the murder. Whether this boy, the same that has been missing for almost a week, is a suspect has yet to be confirmed but all residents are advised to be on the look out for him and to phone police immediately.” Mellisa turned off the TV and turned away from me.
“You better leave,” she said.
“Mellisa...” I said, helpless.
Suddenly the sound of heavy footsteps ascending the stairs could be heard.
“Go, now!” Mellisa said.
“I can't!” I said. I would risk even the wrath of her father to voice my side.
“Oh, Matt... quick, hide in here.” She said, and pushed me into her closet. It was a big walk in closet which had a lot of space, so was easy to position myself without making any noise. Just as the closet doors closed the room door opened.
“See Mellisa, I told you. That bastard Matt and his worthless parents, he was no good for you and now he's gone and run away from home to become a murderer and a crook,” her father said triumphantly.
“I'm sorry daddy,” she sobbed. I couldn't tell whether she was actually crying.
“If he ever comes around here again you just yell, I'll be with you as fast as I can. That beast won't ever trouble you again, okay sweety?” He said.
She nodded and said nothing.
“Now, you go get to bed, you have nothing to worry about while I'm in this house,” he said and left without another word.
After a moment or two footsteps could be heard descending the stairs. Mellisa pulled open the doors and I was met with a tearful young woman who had just lost all faith in everyone.
“Melli-” I began.
“No... just no,” she said, and pointed to the window. “Just go, Matt.”
“You can't believe-” I protested.
“I don't know what to believe, Matt. You run away from home, people accuse you of murder and you end up here telling me I might never see you again? Murder, Matt, do you know what murder is?” She said, sobbing. I wished for a moment I could tell her everything I knew about murder, and what a cold hearted act had been committed in front of my eyes, how life had been torn from it's mortal coil, much as had my own. I almost cried from the frustration.
“I do trust you, Matt,” she said after a moment. “and I trust that you wouldn't harm me, or anyone else, but recently...” she trailed off. “You should go,” she finished.

I nodded and left. What else could I have done? I needed to run, I needed to run far away. Likely every person in town now knew my identity and people would be looking for me. My first instinct was just to get away, I didn't think about where. I ended up starting to retrace my steps to Benolts. For a few minutes I met no one, there weren't even cars on the streets. As I turned a corner I heard raised voices.
“Yeah, I saw him go up past Hunter's Way, my dog went wild when it saw him, must've got the scent of murder if you ask me. If we go now he may still be up there, who knows what he's planning. We can't wait for the police.”
The familiar voice of the stranger whose dog had attacked me came from a nearby porch. Out of sheer curiosity I glanced around the corner and a mob of about twenty people met my eyes. Suddenly one of them shouted out “There he is!” pointing right at me.
“Come on, let's get him” came another voice from the mob.
“Murderer!”
“Killer!”
Suddenly I ran. I didn't know where I was running to, but following close behind came the thud of many sets of boots. I turned a corner but met with another similar group of people, each of which cried out and gave chase. Running again I turned again, this time with no resistance but still the clear voices of the residents following, and now police sirens as well. Desperate I ran on, unable to escape the pursuing feet, never more than a street away. As I rounded yet another corner I stopped for a moment, trying to get some idea of where I was, looking for a place to hide. I recognised the place almost immediately. It was my own road, my parent's house just meters away. I made a break for it, but as I opened the door the grim face of my father met mine.
“Matthew.” he said, baring the doorway.
“Dad, I need to hide, please, they're gonna kill me.” I said.
“You're not son of mine, murderer. You made your coffin now lie in it,” he said.
“I didn't do it!” I cried.
“Tell it to the mob,” he said, and pushed me away, locking the door.
I was stunned. I couldn't believe what had just happened, my father abandoning me to the mercy of the mob. Suddenly a voice shouted from behind me “Found him! This way!” and again the chase was on. I was in a state of shock, and ran in a random direction, unthinking and bewildered. Unfortunately my choice of route led straight into a dead-end alley, and the mob was only moments behind. I panicked, looking for somewhere to hide, but there was no where to go. The group of residents arrived almost all at once, cutting off my only means of escape.
“You're finished you hooligan,” came a cry.
“Let's see how he likes a taste of justice,” came another.
“Yeah, mob justice, an eye for an eye!” came another, accompanied by the triumphant cheer of the mob.
There was no escape. Except for through them. A thought that was not my own had entered my head. Let me kill them, each and every one. They would kill you without reason. The beast had returned. And then we can feast... feast on the blood of all. The beast uncoiled quickly, sharply, I could feel the pressure rising, the mob approaching, the power, surging through my veins. I could kill them all. I could escape. FEAST. Suddenly I lost all constraint. My mind withdrew from my body completely, and I was only a witness to the events. My body roared, a bestial, animalistic roar which halted the mob in it's tracks. My fangs extended from my jaw and face stretched and contorted. In seconds my body was ready to attack, hands more like claws, fangs like poniards, rage of a titan.
Stop.
The simple word echoed around the alley, and although not loud seemed to drown out all other sound.
This ends now, came a voice, cold and powerful.
The beast faded instantly, and my mind returned with a jolt of confusion and sudden pain. I looked up and a shining light met my eyes.
Now... forget,” the light said. Suddenly a burst of blue light shot down from the light, enveloping the mob in a thin, misty blue fog. After a moment or two the effect subsided and each and every mob member was clearly encased in a thin crust of ice, their eyes still fully open in wonderment and fright. Icicles hung from noses and ears, and the whole alley was covered in a snowy glow. Slowly the light descended in front of me. As it approached it became clear that the light was a person, and a woman at that.
“Hello, Matthew,” she said, in a kind and gentle voice. “I'm Jane, I'll be your tutor from here on, now sleep.” Her eyes glowed brightly blue once more, staring deep into mine and the world around me faded from vision. The last thing I remember is the cold.

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