Prologue

1969

  Jonathon Jackson walked down the darkened streets of Savannah Georgia, his home town. He was surrounded by ancient trees, all covered in a fungus known as Spanish moss, creating dancing shadows as the lights from the cars reflected off of the hanging pants.

As John walked through Oglethorpe Square, he noticed something unusual amidst the old trees and brick paths; the statue of James Oglethorpe was somehow different. Almost as if it was alive.

John shook his head and continued to walk in the shadows of the night. John almost laughed out loud when he saw a group of tourists running around Tomachichi’s rock. The story has it, if you run around the rock ten times, chanting the chant, and then yell “Tomachichi” at the end very loudly, and run to the rock, you will here Tomachichi say his name.

Little did the tourists know, the so called voice was really the echoing of their voices through the sewers, and, if at the right time, a car passes through the red light a block down at just the right time, the voice echoes back to the rock, and disorients it. So the voice sounds like an indistinct man.

Tourists. He thought, and continued on his way, not seeing the figure that followed him through the night. Little did John know, that tonight was his last night alive.

  “Jonathon,” a voice whispered, so low that John didn’t think he really heard it. He kept his pace, but he heard it again. John stopped, and spun around, no one was there. John’s green eyes scanned the area, cautious of what was there, or wasn’t there, as the case seemed to be.

Just as John was going to pass it off as hearing things, a dark figure jumped form one of the old trees and landed directly in front of him.

John jumped back, and the man grabbed him roughly and shoved him in an alley. Seconds later, the man was on top pressed against him and he felt a prick in his neck. He winced in momentary pain and moments later his world went black.

Chapter 1

  John groaned his head hurt; it felt like 1,000 drummers were using his head as their drum. He opened his eyes, not able to see clearly, but once his vision cleared, he noticed he was in a room, and lying on a bed.

John sat up and finished scanning the room. It was an old fashioned, with a four post bed, night table, very high ceilings, and several paintings on the walls. He knew instantly that he was in one of many of the historical houses in downtown.

  “Very funny guys!” John said, expecting his friends to jump out of their hiding places. John shook his head, and got out of the bed. He crossed the room and opened the curtains, surprised how much the sunlight hurt his eyes, it felt like they were being burned out of their sockets. John had to jump out of the light, and began rubbing his burning eyes, trying to ease the pain.

John looked up as he heard the floor boards creak, there stood a man, he was about 6’ 2”, pale, and had piercing hazel eyes. John had to study those eyes for a moment, almost thinking they were green at first, but the green was just more pronounced than the brow. The man had blonde hair, which looked very odd yet the combination looked very well on him. He wore a dark blue shirt and black jeans. He shook his head and shut the curtains. The man turned towards John.

  “Who are you?” John asked. The man smiled, John noticed his incisors were oddly long and sharp looking.

  “They call me Ankimon.” The man said with a slight accent that John could not identify. He stepped closer to John, who in turn, took a quick couple of steps back until he was up against the wall.

  “What are you doing with me?” John demanded.

  “I made you one of us, surely you noticed your senses are more keen then they were before.” Ankimon said, his voice soft, almost angelic, yet firm. The older man looked like he was about to laugh.

  Jonathon was about to protest when he noticed he could hear conversations, probably coming from the street below, he smelt something that smelled like sulfur, and even though he usually needed glasses to see across the room, he could see the other side clearly.

  “What the-“John said, unable to finish his sentence. Ankimon smiled, and stepped back. He then, threw back his head and laughed. Jonathon noticed something else, though he was scared out of his mind; his heart wasn’t beating at all.

  “Surely you know by now, John, you are undead, a vampire. You’ll live forever as those around you search for the Fountain of Youth. Fools, little do they know, it walks amongst them.” Ankimon said matter-of-factly, with a smirk on his face.

  “No, I—I—It can’t be! It’s all a myth, I’m dreaming!” John yelled. Ankimon rolled his eyes.

  “My dear boy, what a pity…” he said, and then reached into the night table’s drawer. He pulled out a black glove, and put it on one of his hands. He then, reached in and pulled out a cross, in the gloved hand. Ankimon smiled and tossed it to John.

John caught it, and rolled his eyes as nothing seemed to happen. He held it for several more seconds, and then noticed a burning sensation through his veins; it spread through out his body, like an uncontrollable fire.

He quickly dropped the cross, and backed away like it was poison, his green eyes wide in pain, realization, and confusion, all at once. Not believing what just happened and what’s happened to himself.

Ankimon smiled, picked up the cross in the gloved hand and put it away, along with the glove.

  “Now do you believe me?” he asked, almost tauntingly. John just stared, wondering what had just happened. Ankimon smiled at the young man, knowing there was so much to teach, in so little time.

Chapter 2

  Ankimon and John walked the streets of Savannah; Ankimon was answering John’s seemingly endless questions.

  “Sunlight-“

  “Can’t hurt you as you get older. The more you feed and the older you get, the less affective the sun is. It won’t kill you, as popular belief says; it’ll just hurt like the dickens and burn if you’re not careful.” Ankimon answered, almost sounding like it was a rehearsed line for a play.

  “Coffins?”

  Ankimon scoffed. “What do you think? They aren’t a necessity, but some use them for more dramatic purposes. I like to attempt to pass off as human. Creates less confusion and easier to get along.”  Ankimon said, looking over at John, he was still wearing his blue jeans and t-shirt with an unknown symbol on it. John was slightly shorter than Ankimon, about 5’ 9”, green eyes, with dark brown hair, his almost complete opposite.

  “How can we be killed?” John asked, and wondered what kind of answer he was going to get.
   ”Only by decapitation, or stake or well placed knife through the heart. Crosses as you know can hurt you but that too goes away with age. Some powers you’ll get will be increased strength, speed, you’ll be able to read the minds of mortals, to help you find the evil doer. We only feed on the evil, or else you’ll suffer much guilt later in life. Eventually, you’ll gain the power of flight, and rarely, some vampires experience the power to burn things with a single thought.” They continued to walk a few more blocks.

  “Ah, here’s a nice one for you, see that man over there? The one with the neon green jacket? Well, he’s just murdered his only sister, and his parents. Shame. The police are after him. Stupid mortal, that jacket’s not exactly the best move either. It attracts too much attention…”

  “ANKIMON! What do I do?” John said, getting the older vampire’s attention.

“Ah, yes, well see that alley? (John nodded) good, now you wait there for him, as he comes by, pull him into the alley, make sure you cover his mouth, mortals tend to scream. Find the pulse in his neck, bite into the vein, and Walla, the blood will flow. And one more thing, stop before the heart does. Never continue until the heart stops.”

  “What will happen if I do?” John asked.

  “It will drive you mad,” Ankimon answered simply. He seemed losted in his own thoughts, of another time and place, a place no human man can ever remember, but he remembered with such great detail.

John sighed, and used the speed he had to get to the alley, hopefully, unnoticed by the many civilians. John waited for his prey. He could smell the blood, hear their hearts beating. His mouth watered as the man approached. John quickly pulled the man into the alley, as Ankimon had said, making sure he covered the mouth.

John easily found the vein, and bit down, his incredibly long incisors bit easily through the human flesh and into the victim’s neck. John was lost in the ecstasy of the blood, his body felt more alive than ever, the blood quenching any and all thirst he ever had. He felt the pulse slow, and didn’t care. He didn’t want the feeling to end. He then, pulled sharply away, remembering Ankimon’s words.

The man looked at him, with his final breath, and closed his eyes, and was still in Johns arms. John quickly dropped the body and backed away. Ankimon walked into the alley, clapping and smiling. John looked at the older vampire, horrified by what had happened.

  “The first is always the worst.” Ankimon said, still looking giddy.

“Come on! Let’s go, the night’s still young!” Ankimon added, putting his arm around John’s shoulders, and they left the alley, leaving the dead man reading in peace. They killed others that night, and with each kill, John found Ankimon’s words were true, it did get easier, and John wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.