elanya

This is something that I wrote last night, after a most excellent session of Terry Hates Us, the Thin Blooded Vampire campaign run by vess. This is actually from the point of view of Nathan, who was my PC in THUII (I think), who was briefly an NPC in this game, until it turned out that he had been made to betray the Unbound (an organization of thin bloods trying to organize themselves, for protection, and aslo as a semi-cult) through an old blood bond to an evil Vampire called 'Laura, from an older Vampire cult ^-^. Anyway, for those of you who know either game, I hope this is interesting. Comments welcome. Also, I'll note I wrote this in the half hour before falling asleep, and also in my mind it was accompanied by appropriately vivid comic book panels. And volunteer artists? ... didn't think so ;p (Cross-posted to rocksfall).



My name is Nathan Marten, and I am twenty five years old. Twenty five.

I look in the mirror, and a man of forty stares back. Behind him stretches an endless field of skulls.

I am immortal, so they say. But this unlife has its own tolls to pay, and it isn't only the grey hairs.

Too many names...

Too many friends. I've tried to be a good man, a good human being, even a 'good' vampire, if such a thing exists. I want to help people, to look after the ones who can't look after themselves. To be a good friend. But the man in the mirror, he's alone: alone in that desolate, even gruesome, landscape.

Beth was the first. I lost her by listening to her words, rather than my instincts. She cost me so much in the end. In was all down hill, after Beth.

That was the first night I met 'Laura' too, I imagine. I don't remember it, but she saved my life... bought it, rather, from the so-called 'local authorities'. And how many is she going to keep asking in return? I can't believe I trusted her, underestimated her, so much. Chris was right on that, of course, but now he's gone too. And that's right - just gone. Vanished, without a trace.

Lucia, Chianti, even Murdock. They all trusted me, and I've let them all down. That's what I dread the most now: seeing another familiar skull on the path, even in my dreams.

At least, I am glad to be alone here, if only for one reason. This is a private hell, and one I wouldn't wish on anyone else. There is another path, a better path, for other, better people. A path that can lead to real salvation. I've seen it, but I'll never get there now. The way is blocked by a wall of skulls, mortared with innocent blood and compromised humanity. I used to think that I could help, be a good guy, and at least direct others towards that place, but it was another trap. I'm not free. Not free of Laura, and a hundred other puppetmasters.

I'm cynical, but I can't give up. Maybe that's the worst of it. Everything I try fails, collapses into blood and ash. For those I try to help, I'm like a plague carrier. They fall dead in to my welcoming arms. And I just can't quit while I'm ahead. This field can't really go on forever, can it? Is life.... Is God so cruel?

I needed to get away. I was a danger in Boston. Laura only showed her hand there because I was no longer useful. She had everything she needed, because I gave it to her, and she knew how much damage it would do to expose me. I have to believe that they'll be okay. Faith is all I've got left to keep me going... Faith that there are other who won't mess up as badly as I have.

I'm twenty-five going on forty. I feel live I've already lived through a hundred lifetimes.

And I'd do just about anything to give some of them back.