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Where the small cottage once stood, now sits a grand three-story house. The farmland my family worked so hard to farm is covered in homes similar to the one in front of me. Any remnants of my familial home are gone, nothing more than memories cast in the wind.
I wipe the silent tears flowing from my eyes, as thoughts of what could’ve been flash to mind. If only I’d been normal. If only I had not been the reason my father died, none of this would’ve happened.
Instead, I’ve been on the run for two centuries, staying one step ahead of my captor and leaving a trail of death and destruction in my wake. I’m tired. I’m tired of killing. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of being a vampire. I’m tired of everything.
For the first time in a while, I allow thoughts of Thorne to enter my mind. Since escaping, thinking of him and our time together only brings sadness. I’veavoided thinking of what could’ve been, instead, focusing on survival.
“Captain Hawthorne Rex, I’m sorry,” I whisper into the wind. For three centuries, I’ve passively searched for information on Thorne, finding not much in return. Today, that changes. Pulling my cell phone from my backpack, I book a flight to Charleston. The location our ship was heading before Kragen took me. It’s one of the few places I’ve avoided since escaping. That ends today.
EIGHT
charleston, south carolina
MODERN DAY
The smellof humans permeates my nose, making me hungry. I haven’t eaten for the past two weeks, partly on purpose and partly because of guilt. Walking through the city market is not the smartest activity for a hungry vampire, especially during tourist season. This is the third day I’ve been here. Being able to resist the urge to eat gives me hope in a future where I’m not a killer. However today, the sheer amount of people crammed into the narrow building is nearly overwhelming to my desires.
A woman who appears no older than me bumps into me, nearly knocking herself over in the process. “Excuse me,” she says, turning toward me.
“No worries,” I smile, making eye contact with her.
The smile on her face fades as something inside her sends a silent warning. Not every human can sense thedanger I represent, but this woman does. She turns quickly, moving in the opposite direction.
I continue walking, sliding gracefully between the visitors. I watch as mothers and fathers push strollers of exhausted children through the crowded market. This is just the sort of place tourists flock to. Overpriced items imported from other countries, stamped with Charleston insignias, always draw a crowd.
The smell of sulfur catches my nose, bringing me to a stop in the middle of a crowd. The humans continue moving around me, giving me wide berth, no doubt sensing my energy.
Sulfur is one of those smells that triggers memories I would rather forget. A past I’d rather not think about. Especially here, surrounded by humans.
I find myself looking around, halfway expecting to see him. Where Kragen went, the smell of sulfur accompanied. I scour the area, searching for any sign of the man, hell, the creature, I’ve spent the past two hundred years hiding from.
I’ve stayed one step ahead of him since escaping. As horrible as it was, I have to give him credit. It was Kragen who turned me into the creature I am today, nothing more than a nightmare incarnate.
I continue walking, leaving the city market, and making my way closer to the water’s edge. Sunset is my favorite time, and exploring the city I was headed toward all those years ago is something I’ve wanted todo since escaping…although, if I’m honest, I have other motives.
Charles Town, or Charleston as it’s called now, would’ve been the first place Kragen looked after I left. It’s the reason I’ve waited two hundred years to visit. The Charles Town I was bound for would’ve looked nothing like the tourist trap it is today. I try to picture Mama and my siblings exiting the ship into the town that would be their new home.
Memories of my brother Charles flood my mind, bringing the sadness that always accompanies his memory. He died never seeing his new home. He died, never understanding what happened to him. Maybe that was a blessing.
Standing on the battery, I lift my arms, allowing the wind to blow through the silky sleeves of my shirt. Sea water brings memories of home. “Be careful. I’d hate to have to save you,” a voice says from behind. I turn, finding the source. A man a few inches taller than me has his hands shoved deep into his pockets and a wistful look on his face.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I answer, returning to my view.
“Michael,” the man says.
I turn back. “Excuse me?”
“Michael. That’s my name.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “I thought you were confused for a moment.”
“Ha! No. Just introducing myself.” He moves to my side. “What are you looking at?”
“The wind,” I answer, not sure I’m up for company.
He looks in my direction. “That would’ve been my first guess. Are you here with family?”
“Do you always ask random strangers so many questions, Michael?”
