Post by Daniel Molloy on Mar 6, 2007 2:11:08 GMT -5
There he stood silently looking upon the city that had unfolded before him. It was a gift ready to be unwrapped. He clasped his hands together his fingers entwining loosely with one another. His light violetgaze scanned the horizon and a smile played upon his lips. He seemed to laugh to himself, silently yet content. The smile was well apt and it suited his facial expressions rather well. He preceded onwards his walk almost a dance. His disarrayed ashen hair falling over his brow as he lowered his gaze to the ground when he walked. The night had just begun and he knew of the night life that occupied this city. For in fact he had met several of the creatures the filled the night life. One actually seemed to haunt him periodically. He now thought of Armand, the youthful immortal that seemed to appear whenever he so chose.
He knew of the distraught mayhem the vampires had when his book had hit the shelves. Wasn’t it a crime or something or other with vampires to write their lives? Mortals would find them and analyze them and some crap? He had his beloved Armand who had protected him. Occasionally the immortal would send him on luxurious trips and dine in exceptionally fine restaurants and travel on elaborate first class plane trips. He placed a cigarette between his pursed lips, his thumb igniting the end with a lighter. He inhaled deeply, savoring the taste and delight the tobacco and nicotine gave him. He exhaled and a waft of smoke left him.
There upon his neck was a vile only the size of a thumb nail. It contained the elixir of life. Armand had given it to him. Of course it wasn’t enough to turn a mortal man into a vampire. But it gave the drinker a tantalizing sensation when tasting the blood of an immortal. It was a curse yet a treasure. He held it now with his free hand. His other was busy placing the cigarette back into his mouth to inhale deeply. He was a tall, slender young man. Daniel Molloy was his name. He was thirty-two, though he looked younger. He looked more like a perennial student, not a man, that kind that kind of youthful face. He was coming.
He knew of the distraught mayhem the vampires had when his book had hit the shelves. Wasn’t it a crime or something or other with vampires to write their lives? Mortals would find them and analyze them and some crap? He had his beloved Armand who had protected him. Occasionally the immortal would send him on luxurious trips and dine in exceptionally fine restaurants and travel on elaborate first class plane trips. He placed a cigarette between his pursed lips, his thumb igniting the end with a lighter. He inhaled deeply, savoring the taste and delight the tobacco and nicotine gave him. He exhaled and a waft of smoke left him.
There upon his neck was a vile only the size of a thumb nail. It contained the elixir of life. Armand had given it to him. Of course it wasn’t enough to turn a mortal man into a vampire. But it gave the drinker a tantalizing sensation when tasting the blood of an immortal. It was a curse yet a treasure. He held it now with his free hand. His other was busy placing the cigarette back into his mouth to inhale deeply. He was a tall, slender young man. Daniel Molloy was his name. He was thirty-two, though he looked younger. He looked more like a perennial student, not a man, that kind that kind of youthful face. He was coming.
