• He

    He sat there, still, motionless, gazing into the void of the evening. The sky was gray with no threats of storms, but with a small hint of aggression, teasing the members bellow. The wind was a mere breeze tender enough to kiss your skin, yet arctic enough that the small gentle touch would shatter your face into pieces. The wind gave its best blow challenging his emotions and still he remained immobile. He wished he could experience what they were feeling when they pulled their coats tighter, or their hats down to their nose, or when their teeth slammed into each other demanding heat. His body hadn’t experienced any tactile sensation in centuries. He wanted to improvise; he wanted to pretend to feel what he was able to sense once in his life. He wished and desired to be normal; to walk, talk, work, and feel like them; to be able to stroll onto midday sunlight and not ponder about turning into dust. He wanted to be able to interact with them, without having his veins beating at their heart rate, or his mouth giving in to their necks. He knew if he kept fasting like he had been for the past few years he would eventually turn into a monster. He had played life enough, he had escaped death for too long; this was his last attempt to a normal life, his last days to live what he was stripped from, that unforgettable winter night over two-hundred years ago.

    He stood smoothly and opened his arms embracing the break of dawn. His bones ached, his throat burned and his flesh like acid seemed to stretch every particle of his body. He shielded himself from the bright object and disappeared into the chamber of the coal driven train.

    ‘Coward’

    Why couldn’t he feel it? Why would something as merely pleasurable as the touch of a sun ray be his enemy? He’d tried much too many times before what humans would call suicide, but never could he follow through. Though technicality indicated he was dead, he still felt much alive, and like most humans he feared death; he feared himself.

    His jump into the chamber was much too quick and his legs gave in, his head slammed the side of the moving vehicle; he was weak, but even under any means he was not going to give in to his one source of energy. He wouldn’t take a life, not again.

    Unexpectedly eyes widened, and his nose followed the mouthwatering scent. A drumming beat was heard from a distance and his veins did quite well keeping up with the tempo. His eyes narrowed and spotted the innocent soul bellow. A street man laid on the floor board, covered in newspaper sleeping soundly taking no mind to his trembling body. His corpse seemed to have a mind of its own, like an animal instinct.

    ‘No…not again, stop. Leave now!’

    He put all his strength forth, but his body kept approaching the man. He stood on top of the victim’s legs, and as the prey awakened he twirled its head enough to get him unconscious, but not fully deceased. His sharp bones dug into the flesh between the prey’s neck and its shoulder blade. He pumped the irony substance into his mouth, and though he hated himself for doing this every bone in his body cheered with satisfaction. He couldn’t stop; he didn’t want to kill him, but his mouth didn’t impede until every drop of liquid was gone. The man was now simply a dry corpse ready to be burned. With no second thoughts he threw the body into the burning coal and let out a prayer for the now departed. He knew he was the cause of it; He wished to mourn and cry over his actions, but he couldn’t. Very well he knew that his guilt would never vanish, but he would pay for it when he was gone; after all, eternity came in a high price. He would burn in the flames of all evil.

    He was uneasy. Now that he had tasted it, he would need to find stability to be among the living once again. And so he turned to his only form of sanity…

    Dear Elizabeth,

    I know I must be a nuisance by now; this is the fifth time I have written to you in the past two days. I apologize, but I have done it again….. And somehow the thought of you makes me somewhat stable. How I wished I would of ran away with you that night, if I’d just pretended to be in love with you and run I wouldn’t be the monster I am today. Why was I brutally honest? We could have had a happy life. I yearn to join you so much that it’s almost painful, but I am fully aware that it will never be the case. I am trapped; I am my own death and though I desire to be weak, venerable, and buried I can’t find the drive to take my own life. I finally know my destination. I will arrive shortly at the place where no one sleeps, where human lives aren’t wasted, the city of lights I am told, New York City. I go in hopes to attempt normality; I go in hopes to fail so that I might find that force. There is few if not none of my kind in that area which is even better. Perhaps I’ll feel so alone that I won’t hesitate to step into the midday sun. Elizabeth, I beg of you, pray for me, tell him of my regrets, ask him for my forgiveness but most importantly ask him to give me control. Another life isn’t to be taken….
    Devoted to you always,

    Ulrich

    Like his previous regrets he threw the letter at the fire and watched as every drop of ink burned and so he waited to arrive to his new home.