My name is Drake MacNeil.
I've walked this Earth for hundreds of years. My existence is solitary. Each day rolls into the next, a string of identical moments. I used to be a human. I used to breathe, feel, live. Now I'm nothing more than a vial with the singular drive to fill myself on human blood.
Only...I never get full. Thirsty. So thirsty all the time.
When will this madness end? When will I be able to stop pretending? When will I no longer have to bury myself in the stories I write?
When will the night set me free?
Only...I never get full. Thirsty. So thirsty all the time.
When will this madness end? When will I be able to stop pretending? When will I no longer have to bury myself in the stories I write?
When will the night set me free?
Occupation
In the daylight hours, I earn my right to be among the humans. In the quiet of my lair, writing tales they think to be fiction, but I know to be the truth behind my existence. My lore entertains them on the silver screens across the globe. They have no idea that I invent nothing, exaggerate no detail. They only drink it all in, the stories I spin, and with them I win their hearts. If only they knew the pain of the bite, the burn of the blood flow, the agony of the change, the silence of death, they would not be so eager to lose themselves in the fanciful images of what I truly am.. |