Life of an old vampire

—Lucius

Back to the present...

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I had taken to visiting Mr. Lott often during the days when he was searching for my tarot cards. I wanted to study the soul bonds and spiritual seasoning done with those cards specifically for my own black magic purposes.

My paranormal interests involving any kind of bond had grown far more aroused with my demon roiling through my blood. It had always been clear that there was some bond between he and I that was strange.

Holding a demon was not something easily done, and yet, I was managing to do so for millennia. Of course, some nights he would demand I take a guilty female, demand I rip her apart so that her blood dripped on my thighs even while I drank from the font in her neck.

He was a demanding little f*ck in my body at times, but he was worth the price of the sickening acts I had to commit.

Far more sickening acts had been done to me all those years ago. Grant you, I was a guilty soul as well.

But he was mostly quiet now after so long in my body, and he fueled my interests in things like bonds to tarot cards. And Lott was more than amenable to a vampire companion, so long as he could ask me questions every now and again.

I had considered this deal of his with the thought of a business perspective. His time was valuable for a human's timeline and should be bought. What information was it worth to be able to study his collection of artifacts to be able to make sure he retrieved my cards and fulfilled his pact?

Not overly much, actually, I decided. My demon would let me know if he failed, and there was a contractual timeframe set. "You may ask me about my life and experiences, excepting secrets of demonism and dangerous magics. I will tell you some of the lighter magics if it applies to your questions, however."

My life was not a secret, but the fact that I had a demon basking in my blood was, as was the knowledge of how I killed my Mistress. But I would pay the price of some light information to combat some boredom for the time being.

Lott thought on it. "None of the big secrets, then, I'm assuming. Alright, deal. How old are you?"

"2,500 years, give or take a few decades," I answered easily, as we drank more of his expensive alcohol. I leaned back in his lounge chair, grinning when his eyes widened.

"Holy shit. That's why even I, as a human, can feel your presence. Did you know that? You have an aura about you that is black and vast and..." He looked away as if to deliberately break his focus on whatever my "aura" was. "It's terrifying. You're the oldest I've ever met, then."

I considered my words carefully. "My particular lineage of vampire is not well equipped to hide our presences. You may find that you come across another of my kind who is older, and you won't notice a thing besides a slight madness behind their eyes." It was somewhat true.

The real reason was that it was my demon who made my presence so terrible. But arguably, my demon made me a new lineage of vampire altogether, and I had not procreated since assimilating him.

Whenever I went to try to create companionship for myself, something strange happened to my anatomy. Vampires felt a tug to procreate in the same way humans did.

I wouldn't know, but supposedly, it was intense pleasure. It was even pleasure to feed a fledgling, to have them take nourishment from our veins.

And yet, when I went to create, the interest left me, and I ended up murdering instead. It was as if I had two biologies to sate in making a creation, and the demon was not satisfied. As to what would draw his interests, I wasn't sure yet. Either way, I wasn't exactly lying. I was all there was of my "lineage".

Lott nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I have heard your kind speak of bloodlines before. I did not consider it then, but I assume that means different forms of power or aura would come with each."

I inclined my head. "Just so. Although I doubt you're interested in the politics behind it. Vampires have nothing but time and are very, well, boring about their pettiness."

As I had planned, he leaned forward. "Tell me."

I did, gladly and without fight. If he was asking these questions, then there were no secrets in them. They were like his trinkets, useless bits of knowledge for him to possess, and harmless to tell him.

In that way, I paid for the right to accompany him through his nighttime business. He would command me away in the earlier hours of the morning, and I would go to find other pastimes to occupy myself, which was not difficult.

Nosferatica was my favorite country, especially during the turn of the century. It was a country founded on rebellion. Hell, there was an entire genre of music created out of rebellion, one that had ruled Woodstock music festival.

You could protest anything in this beautiful place. It was so easy for a vampire like me to make a little background chaos to cause a little turmoil.

All it took was one wrongful whisper in the right politician's ear, one terrible little nudge to a city boiling with tension, and I could spend the next few nights with my hands in the pockets of my blue jeans, walking through streets filled with riots, enjoying the scents of fire and looting and fear.

War was a joy of mine as well, and it was really too bad that it was never done on Nosferatican soil. No one had to kill up close and personal anymore, and I could whisper in the right ear that all it took was a trigger pull.

So I found things to get into at nights. Then, I spent the days safely reading and painting in my secluded manor.

By manor, I mean that it was really more of a very large house. Think upper middle class, but the location had been the real key to my home choice.

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