Friday 18 November 2011

Nosferatu Diaries.

He believed he had been done an injustice. His kind and their image had been done the most unfair injustice through the ages. He often tossed this thought around in his pale bold head. He thought about it as he watched the man through the skylight window. The man roused from his sleep in a startle. From a nightmare or from the eerie presence he thought he felt, he wasn't certain. The creature followed him along the top of the roof, scaling it like a deathly cat. Its claws quietly scratching the concrete ceiling, crawling stealthily to the hallway as the unsuspecting man walked through his mansion towards the kitchen. The hallway's roof and walls were made entirely of glass, a sickle of a moon cut in faint shards of moonlight. The man yawned unaware of the movement above him. The creature, unable to cast a shadow because its soul was cursed to roam between the heavens and hell forever. The man stopped and looked skyward. A chill ran through his body when he did not see whatever it was giving off the strange presence he was feeling. 'It’s a shame his blue blood cannot keep him warm,' the creature thought to itself. But he had learnt long ago that nobles had no fire in their blood; that they were spineless creatures that trembled when their wealth or greedy existence was threatened.