"You don't know whats purtty, boy."


“He was the best of times, he was the worst of times”
~Jon Rose


I don’t like to remember much about my sire. That redneck bastard posed as a patient and I walked right into his trap. I hear other vampires talk about the pleasure of the embrace and the euphoria – this was as romantic and pleasant as dueling banjos.

I have to wonder if things would have worked out better if I had Rutger around, but I suppose that’s an impossibility. As it was I scarcely noticed the night visit or the splotchy medical history. I remember the story he told me, about how he had gotten lost on a hunting trip for weeks and was looking to have my magic worked on him. Never woulda guessed his hunt was still in progress and that I was the game.

I laid him out on the operating table and he seemed to react well to the anesthetic – he felt cool and his pulse was extremely weak. He had asked I not use electronic monitoring equipment, claimed he was afraid his pacemaker might stop, got him to sign a consent form. Really seems he had it all figured out – granted in hind sight its obvious but at the time I did not care if he died and just wanted to practice the craft and make come money for my own operations.

That’s when it happened. Right as I started to cut into him he laid me out across the room – his mouth gaping into some pit of nightmare swallowing my world. I felt the calm wash over me, but it know drugs and I could feel my control slipping and I could only panic in my own frozen mind. Then darkness.

I found out later why he was such an ugly son of a bitch, comes with joining the club. He wanted to show me what real monsters were so I might appreciate the human form – claimed I was try to fix what “ain’t” broken. Figured I would just accept it and live a happier life – all Nos are cowards and failures. I would never surrender my craft – not when I can immortalize it now.

So I left. Jethro had went on another hunting trip for lesser game and I ran. I can feel him hunting me even know – just like when I was a foolish kine. Suppose some things never change.



Ultimate New York By Night Nehebkau