Henri de Lesang slowed as his pace as he came to the gates of Matheson High School. A flickering street lamp in front of the rusted fence gave the place an eerie look.

“Why would anyone ever want to come here?” He asked himself. He stretched out his right hand, tightly wrapped in a black, leather glove, and gripped the iron fence. He pulled on the gate, the aged hinges creaked and wailed in protest, but finally he was able to pull it open. Henri cursed the noise as he passed into the school grounds.

“Vous faisez assez bruit pour lever la mort!” his voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper, but it seemed to echo on the empty grounds.

As Henri walked up the cracked stone path towards the large double doors, thoughts of his own past came back to him. He remembered the construction of the University of Paris, and the founding of la Sorbonne. Great places of knowledge he would never be given the chance to attend.

He came at last to stand at the entrance way to the school. He had no real purpose for his visit; nothing he could think of had driven him to come to this place. He was just here to see it. He pressed his face against the glass of the front doors, peering in side the building, down the long hall. He felt the urge to go inside, and acted on it; his unnaturally strong arms pulling on the door and breaking the lock.

He made his way through the building, passing class after class. He turned down one hallway and came upon a large display case – this year’s yearbook staff photographed along the top, their choice pictures photographed along the rest of the board. Henri examined the pictures. Young adults aging in a way he never could, having fun in ways he could not remember, sharing company in a way he could not even imagine.

If Henri could have seen his face in the display glass he would have seen a child’s face of sorrow. But he could not; his reflection had been stolen from him long ago. Henri’s expression darkened. Hate, sadness, guilt, loathing, longing for a life, his emotions tumbled about until finally he lashed out, his fist crashing into the glass, sending it splintering to the ground. He calmed himself, taking deep slow breaths.

He needed to talk to someone, anyone. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in nearly forty years. He had used other people to do his talking for him, mortals who he could control and command, sending them to build his small fortune here in Demaitre, and when t was complete. He had become fully withdrawn. Now, he wished to speak, wished to lay his eyes upon another individual and share with them all that he had pent up inside, but there was no one for him to talk to. He’d made sure of that.

His penthouse was only accessible by elevator and only then with a single key. The only beings he met with were either enslaved or fed upon, sometimes both depending on their ability to receive his commands. Other than his food, he had been alone for forty years…

Henri pushed his thoughts from his head and pushed deeper into the gloom of the school. He had been walking and reminiscing for sometime when he heard the faintest of footsteps behind him. He paused to listen, but the steps were gone. He quickened his pace turning corners and running up stairs two at a time, he felt his body’s speed go past that of the mortal eye, and just a bit further, but still the foot steps followed. Finally he entered a dark class room and stopped. The foot steps were gone, but he sensed he was not entirely alone.

Walking past the high school, Nevinino noticed the locks were broken. Wondering to himself who broke them he walked up the steps leading towards the entrance. Entering the school he could already sense someone was in here. It would be good to finally talk to someone.

Walking through the halls he could feel someone coming closer to him. Stopping at the end of the hallway he was able to see how the person was. A man, he had a feeling that the man was another immortal but wasn't sure. The man turned his head in all directions, Nevinino knew that he could sense someone too.

The man began to walk down the hall again, Nevinino silently followed him. Walking slowly up the stairs, Nevinino followed the scent that the man left. The man had entered a very dark room but, left the door open. Nevinino didn't want to be seen so he made himself completely blend in with the dark walls. Now that he was in the corner of the room he made himself visible again.

Sitting there quietly he waited to see if the man would look in his direction.

Henri checked the hallway one more time, his 12 year old frame peaking into the hall. Assured that the hall was clear, he let out a sigh of relief and slouched into the wall. He had barely touched the wall when he heard a rustling in a corner of the classroom. His eyes darted to the noise instantly, his centuries’ old vision picked out a dark figure. His child-like eyes carefully outlined the body.

It was a man, tall, but beyond that Henri couldn’t tell what he looked like.

“Qui êtes-vouz?” Henri asked, his shock forcing him back into his native tongue. He took a moment to steady himself then translated. “Who are you? And why the hell are you following me?”

The words sounded so strange to Henri. It had been so long since he had last spoken to another being he had forgotten the sound of his true voice. It was higher pitched, like that of the 12 year old boy he had been when he was turned, but it still held some amount of authority that had come from his years of long life.

He grew impatient of the stranger’s silence. “Answer me, who are you, and why are you following me?” Henri paused a moment, then added, “Please.”

((OOC: sorry for shortness, but i'm ready to pass out from lack of sleep))

He smiled to himself, this wasn't a man it was a young boy. Getting up he walked slowly over to the boy, " I was following you because you are trespassing and the names Nevinino. What is your name my boy?" he asked as he went and leaned against the wall. The room was quite dark, Nevinino opened the shades and some light envaded the room.

" What are you doing here?" he asked loudly and curiously.

[short sorry]

"I am no boy," Henri protested. "I am over eight hundred years old! I-" Henri's voice caught in hiw throat. Had he just confessed to being a vampire to a complete stranger? Damn! He thought. All these years of being cautious, only to let it slip in a moment of anger...oh well, if he's a mortal he'd make a fine meal.

"Tell me sir," Henri's voice becoming less agressive. "Are you like me? Forever youthful, damned to the night, cursed with blood lust? Or are you to be my next meal?"

((OOC: Sorry short, but work is calling...))

" I see, I'm not even a hundred years old yet I know what to reveal and what to keep to myself. And yes I am an immortal too " he said as he stared at the boy. His looks were young and youthful still but, he was over 800 years old. Nevinino was only 65 his looks resembled like he was in his 20's.

" So, I'm guessing your an independant or are you in one of the covens we have here in Demaitre?" he inquired. " And what is your name?

Henri looked across the room at the immortal. Nevinino, Henri pondered the name. He’d not heard it before so he supposed the man was not part of the covens, or at least, not high enough to be of any consequence.

“I am like you,” Henri said at last. “Tout seul, all alone. I have been this way for as long as I can remember.” Henri examined his new acquaintance, Nevinino seemed to be hiding just as many demons as himself, yet this man was much younger.

“How long has it been since you’ve experienced sunlight?” Henri had to ask. He had been asking this question to himself for some time now.

Henri watched his companion and contemplated the question himself. What year was it when you last felt the glow of the sun’s rays upon your face, heard the birds calling as the great ball of fire rose gently into the air, illuminating every dark corner of the world with a golden finger? How long has it been?

“How long have you been in this immortal darkness?”

" It has been over 50 years since I've last seen the sun. I can remember it all too. Hiding away from the troops back in Vietnam. Seeing my mother and father shot and killed. How I walked past their bodies, seeing death written all over their faces" he said sadly. He would reveal only portions of his past, he will keep many things to himself. He likes to keep many things hidden.


" And to answer your second question, since the age of 5. But, now its your turn to answer those questions"

Henri waited for Nevinino to finish speaking. He nodded his understanding then shuffled his way to a desk. With a heavy sigh he seated himself in the desk and looked at the chalk board. Henri’s eyes never left the board as he spoke.

“It was the year 1167. I was in Pairs.” Henri felt silent at the mention of his birth city. He took a deep breath and began to speak again. “It was the morning of my twelfth birthday. I can remember little about the details of that morning. The sun rose in its usual fashion, reds, oranges, pinks and blues. Had I known it would be the last I ever saw, I would have memorized its every feature, but alas, I have nearly lost the memory.” Henri sighed and fell silent. How long have you been in this immortal darkness? the question haunted him.

“I fell into darkness that same day. My father was killed while working. In my despair I ran into the night. I got lost in the winding streets of the dark city and,” Henri forced past the lump that had formed in his throat. “I came upon a vampire. He offered to take away my pain, to kill me. I accepted. But then, in what is the vilest act I have ever known, he turned me, made me a vampire. In my new crazed blood lust I returned home…and killed my mother.” Henri’s head dropped to the desk, he did not want this stranger to see the tears that had formed in his eyes.

You are not a child, you are a man. Henri tried to tell himself repeatedly. You are a vampire. Do not weep for the dead mortals, they are your food. Henri just pushed his inner monologue from his mind, closing it off so he would not hear it.

He waited for the stranger’s reply.

After Henri finished speaking, Nevinino thought contently about what he had just said. Like many other vampires, they all once in their immortal lives question themselves. Question their purpose for life. They rethink the past and try and see right of it all.

The story made Nevinino a little sad but, he wouldn't show it. After all he was a mortal eating beast. He knew that Henri shared a little too much, since he was crying. No use in hiding it, Nevinino could feel his emotions. He tilted his head up so that now he was looking at Henri.

" Do not feel ashamed to weep, even though we are vampires we just have emotions that cannot be controlled. Do not feel sorry for those mortals even if they were the people that gave you life. Many of us immortals just wish to die now but, we all have a purpose in this world. We just dont know what it is yet" he said slowly.


" I've killed many innocent people and even sired a few but, I dont regret doing any of it. Its what I need to do to live."

Henri looked up at Nevinino, looked straight into his eyes. His vision blurred as more tears welled up.

You are still just a boy.

“You feel no remorse for these killings?” Henri’s voice trembled slightly. His emotions overcoming him again, he looked away. After taking a moment to regain his composure, he continued speaking. “I feed from living, human blood. The very stuff that used to fill my veins is now my food. I feel remorse every dawn. Every time I take the life of another human being, I feel as though a part of my life goes with them. How can I stop this? I know I should not be having these feelings but yet, I can’t stop them.” Henri’s voice cracked at the end of his speech, his shoulders beginning to shake as he again began to sob.

Damn these mortal emotions. Damn the mortals. Damn the creatures that feed them. Damn the world! Henri kicked the desk across from him, sending the frail metal frame skittering into another desk. His thoughts went quiet.

His head dropped into his chest. He felt weak suddenly; he felt hungry.

" I have grown up all my life feeding on mortals. I feel no remorse for killing mortals anymore, I do what I have to do to survive. We live a cursed life, to forever roam this land with no purpose in life. Even with your years you still havent been able fully comprehend the life you were cursed with. But, you will have to try and understand it soon" he said as he walked over to the window. He sat down on the window sill.


" And yes I know its out of your control, the feelings you feel are only natural. But, its up to you to block it all out."

“Block it out,” Henri repeated, more to himself than to Nevinino. “Very well,” he turned to face Nevinino. His eye wandered over the man’s body, outlined in a dark silhouette against the moonlight streaming in through the window.

“Perhaps you would like to teach me this loss of remorse,” Henri didn’t know if the request sounded odd or not, he hadn’t spoken to another immortal in centuries. “You seem to be able bodied enough to keep up with me when I’m hungry…would you care to join me?” Henri made his way to the window and pushed it open. He stepped up on the sill and leaned out the window, looking down to the soft grass below, he took a step forward and let himself drop to the earth.

As the wind whistled past his ears he could only wonder if Nevinino would follow.

He nodded his head slowly, Henri was going to hunt. Nevinino usually did not hunt with other immortals. He liked to keep his hunting grounds a secret to others but, this was an exception. As Henri jumped out of the window, Nevinino followed him landing on the ground with a soft thud. Turning to Henri, " lead the way."


[short sorry]

((OOC: to the subway...))