|
[09 Jul 2020|01:16am] |
|
Listen to them; children of the night. What music they make( . )
|
|
| Entry 002; Viewable to: PRIVATE |
[15 Jul 2010|03:22pm] |
|
I sense a dark presence I have not felt in centuries. This both excites and troubles me. It is an evil that I am unfamiliar with, but its strength is admirable. I must find the source.
|
|
| Entry 001; Viewable to: PRIVATE |
[13 Jul 2010|01:17am] |
On nights such as this, I miss the old country. There is much to be said for a nation who will watch you impale their enemies on your front lawn and yet continue to follow your leadership without question. Of course I realize they followed out of fear, but what is fear than another type of respect?
This town is older than the people in it, and the land shows its age to me. I can see it in the surrounding woods, the long abandoned battlegrounds of their Civil War. Walking on dirt that has been soaked in the blood of innocent men and children is always a delight. It reminds me of home in this instance.
My only fear is that my dear Margo will be bored when she arrives, and I need her attentive if I am to accomplish what I am here for. Perhaps I will find her a pet to keep her entertained. The locals, after all, are quite gullible despite their eye-opening history with the world of supernatural beings. Their ignorance would be laughable were it not so sad.
I intend to school them in the ways of heartache and loss. I intend to once more bathe their ground in the blood of innocents. And this is merely the beginning of my plans. I write upon these pages as I have no one I can currently trust with the knowledge of what I intend to do. I would not risk losing my childe by revealing too much, and mortals are never to be trusted.
|
|