1693... that was the year I was bitten.
Life... I use that word loosely... has never been the same since.
From that day on I could no longer walk in the sun, knowing only the night. I slept tormented days in caves, darkened basements, boxes, and coffins. Hunting each month for the blood that replenished my parched veins. Each hunting brought another death that would further damn my soul as I was forced to quest for survival.
There were pleasures, though... knowing all the great minds of hundreds of years... seeing music at concerts dance in shapes and colors in the air from my heightened senses... knowing the truest depth of blind animal passion... being able to walk on wind.
I will never forget 1693 when I was just a man.