So, back at Dee Dee's; Mardi Gras. My girlfriends from school had abandoned me, but I had made some new friends and we ended up there. It was actually a pretty cool night – I'd caught a great buzz, and the energy of the crowds down here during Mardi Gras must be experienced to be appreciated. But somewhere along the way, I'd picked up a stalker. He wasn't totally bad looking. Tall, blond and very skinny. He had that uber-thin Iggy Pop thing going for him, which I can't resist. But there was something about him that was also utterly repulsive. He was menacing and threatening, and he kept appearing out of nowhere. Each time I saw him, I had the overwhelming feeling I was going to die. The fact that he was doing the sign-language gesture for "slit throat" didn't exactly help. Little did I know this insane stalker would end up being Lucas Gates, my Kindred sire.
Things get fuzzy after that. It turns out Sarah Cobbler, another powerful Kindred, had hired five vampires to abduct and sire us that night. Then she erased our memories, so we wouldn't remember who our sires were or anything about her little "experiment". Unfortunately, I was able to get back the worst parts of my memory. The last few, precious moments I had as a human, spent in sheer terror...
We had pulled up to the park, and it was completely dark, save the weak orange glow of a streetlight a distance away. I was in a van, by myself, and Lucas Gates was beckoning me to come out. I knew he was about to kill me. I knew he was. I was so scared, I couldn't scream. My body and muscles were frozen and nothing would come out. I couldn't breath and I could barely see. Don't pass out, please don't pass out. Now he had lost his patience and came part way into the van to grab my arm and physically pull me out. Then I was able to focus on him. On his eyes. There must be something in there. In that monster. "Please. Please don't." My begging was like foreplay to him. A huge, satisfied grin danced across his face; I think he had been worried he wasn't going to enjoy this, now he realized I was going to oblige him. He drew out a knife and snickered the word "Out" as he pulled harder on my arm.
Finally I was getting over the initial shock and trying to help myself. I braced my legs against the door to block his attempts at my removal and tried one more time "Please. Please – don't. Don't kill me. Please." What an idiot I was. I should have just fought harder. I should have screamed. Instead I think I nearly got him off. But when I saw that my pleading was, indeed, not working at all, I did begin to struggle harder. With a disappointed sigh, he began to beat me in ernest. After a few stabs of his knife and a considerable loss of blood, it was game-over for me, as far as I knew. A most anticlammatical way to end a life, if you ask me.
The next evening I awoke in the same park with a thirst I'd never experienced before. Like I'd just run a 15K at noon in the middle of August. I dragged myself over to the water fountain for a drink and immediately threw up all the water I ingested. And still the thirst raged on. There were several other people standing near me in the park that seemed as lost as I was. Becky Lynn, Louis and Jack; all of us had been turned against our will and left to face this unlife without much guidance at all. It was going to be a long Requiem.
Everyone Loves a Happy Ending
We caught up with that bastard Lucas Gates about a month ago, and with the Prince's blessing, and the support of my coterie, I diablerized his ass and sent him to Hell. Nothing I've ever done, be it in life or unlife, has ever been so sweet. And no negative aspect of Diablery would make me rethink my action that night and change it if I had to do it over again.
Rot
in Peace, Lucas
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