Note: Hello. This is Horrorjunkie666 here. Welcome to my first ever fic. The character this revolves around is the character I own in the forum 'Angels in the Underworld'. The character is of my own make, and his back story, whether it is mentioned in that RP or not, is my own designing as well. I will be leaving the RP's story line out completely. Therefore, no copy right will be breached. The RP is well worth checking out, by the by.

There, now that that's said:

Cert: M, for violence, mentions of profanity and some mild cursing.

Summary: Vampire Julian Martinez tells of the four hundred years he's been on this earth. He explains the reasons for his cynicism and his cowardliness, and shows that 400 years is a long time for any one man to live.

Four Hundred Years

Prologue: 1901-1936, Introduction

For four hundred years various people have told me to write this down. Four hundred years, and I'm finally doing it. Four hundred years, and I've no idea what to say. What do I say? How do I tell this to all of you? This long melodrama that my life has been. You like that, don't you? People just love a good melodrama, I know. My four hundred years will have you laugh, cry and scream in frustration ... and not always in that order.

Why should I tell you this, though? Why should I tell you people what four hundred years on the bottom rung of existence has been like? Probably because you don't know me. I don't have to listen to you after I say it. I don't like pity. It's ... degrading to be pitied. It makes me feel so ... low.

Funny isn't it? I've watched this race grow up, seen the 'modern world' develop. Funny that it's still the same. You'd pity me for what I am, then you'd beat me just the same. I'm a cynic, I know, and a coward.

Perhaps I need to say that before we begin properly. I am a coward. A card carrying coward. You can't know me without knowing that. You can't know me anyway, which is probably why I'm here.

Now, where do I start? The night I was born? You really don't need to know something stupid like that. Check the dates, and maybe you'll find me moldering away in some drawer or other. Julian Martinez, born 24th March, 1901, in Boston, America. That's me. I was born to Emily and Joseph Martinez, a slum family. I remained human for nineteen years. Then things changed. Then I discovered not only humans could be cruel.

I was nineteen years old when I got bitten. Yes. Bitten. By a vampire. Unbelievable, right? How else do you people think I celebrated my four hundredth and ninth birthday last March? I met my 'killer' on the 17th of May, 1920. I was drunk and beaten, he saw a chance. We talked, and he bit me. Would have killed me too, if he hadn't pitied me so. That's probably why I don't like pity, come to think of it.

He left me for dead that night. I don't blame him. I've never had that heart to. He left me, and I never met him again. At least I don't think I did ... it's all irrelevant anyway. Obviously, I survived as a vampire in those shaky first weeks. How, I don't remember nor do I really care. I'm here now, and that's what matters ... sort of.

In 1936, I got my first real job. If you could call it a job. I danced. On a bar, yes. In a seedy club in LA, yes. But it was a job, it paid rent. Sure, I got smacked around, sure guys twice my age, relatively speaking, leered at me and sometimes more besides. It wasn't anything I'd never experienced before, so I could live with it. There were free meals, human and normal, I am a vampire. A good bed, sometimes occupied by more than just me, but I lived with that. It was a good, if harsh, life.

I don't have high standards. I've quite low standards, all things considered. That's just who I am. That club in LA hammered it home to me, and so I think, perhaps, that that is the place to start.


Well, that's that. Prologue finished. If even one person wants me to write more, I will. If not, then I won't. Either way, Au Revoir for now.

With love, Horrorjunkie666.