journalofthelongsincedeseased - Tumblr blog

[journalofthelongsincedeseased]

I've got a pair of shoes,

a pair of pants,

a pair of underwear,

But I do not like them,

I belong to the wild,

And the wild doesn't wear shoes,

I should be naked,

Laying in a grassy meadow somewhere,

Not wearing shoes,

I should be running along the beach,

The wind in my hair,

Not wearing shoes,

Society says I should wear clothes,

I should really be naked,

Not wearing shoes,

I should be in a garden of flowers,

Blooming above the buds,

And not wearing shoes,

I have a pair of shoes,

A pair of pants,

A pair of underwear,

A t shirt,

A jacket,

And sometimes a hat,

But really I should be naked,

[journalofthelongsincedeseased]

Margaret, sweet, sweet Margaret. I met her during a version Il Fantasma ell'Opera accompanied by her soon to be husband. A disgusting, vicious brute named Connor Benton. It was clear she was not happy and it was even more clear that she was in danger.

So I, in my best suit addressed the man and challenged him to a duel right there, falsifying a slander he had clearly forgotten about it.

Well, in any case I killed him in the street out front of the theater. It was all sanctioned. We both had seconds and so on, but even though my knowledge of pistols was limited, I had a general idea of how to use them and how they worked.

Margret swore her hand to me right there and in so doing hoisted myself into the Elite.

I will never understand why Connor Benton decided to accept my challenge, it seems so idiotic now, but he didn't get a chance to regret it. At least not for very long.

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My first meal, that's where it began and once you start there you don't stop. I don't know how Lucas only ate animals, because there is nothing more sweet than fresh human blood.

I began with women, sadly in those days they were easy targets when alone and you could always guarantee one would be alone. Especially at the theater and that is where I meet Margaret.

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Lucas tried, I will give him that, but of course I was no longer the man he had fallen in love with and nor I the man that had loved him. Oh, we tried desperately to hold on to what we had had, but the deed was done.

Soon after we parted ways, he went on to find anything else, anyone else and I chased the dragon right into a den of demons.

[journalofthelongsincedeseased]

My Death

The melody, sweet melody of death, I followed it so willingly. My death was less elegant then I pretend and most assuredly undignified.

Artemis relished in my taste and more so the pain it caused Lucas. I was not the first of victims stolen from the arms of my beloved and I was surely not the last.

Artemis led me to a near by alley with Lucas hopelessly following and begging the whole way. Such pleas fell on deaf, uncaring ears and holding my body against his, Artemis sunk his teeth roughly into my neck and began to feed.

I vaguely remember Lucas' protesting voice or his eyes watching in wide horror, but nothing stopped Artemis from nearly finishing me right there. Perhaps he was hoping for a thrall, but he did not have to wait long to meet me, as I am now.

My body took to the venomous curse so quickly that Artemis nearly got a mouthful of black blood.

I could feel the blood leaving my body through the holes in my throat, but something else entered. A darkness, a sickness, a cold, empty, delicious void that was going to last for an eternity. It felt as though years had passed for me, my body feeling every single drop of blood being replaced with this violent disease.

I heard coughing and felt Artemis shove me away from him. It is generous to call what happened to me death, because if I had been dead it was the swiftest death to have ever occurred. It was mere seconds that from the first bite I had straightened up, stretched my shoulders back and opened my now bright red eyes.

My neck had already healed and black ichor painted my shoulder where the scar would forever reside. I was a vampire and I was hungry.

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Artemis Drachild(Continued)

It was the sound of Artemis' sultry voice, pure silk, cool to the touch on my hot skin and may I burn forever with chains woven round my heart and squeeze for all eternity for my betrayal.

Lucas and I had just left the theatre when we came face to face with Artemis. If he were the Devil, I would be Persephone as his enchanting voice entangled my swollen heart right there, so quickly that poor Lucas had no time to turn us tail.

I could not hear his pleas to Artemis to stop and later I forgot about him completely as Artemis took me by the hand and led me away from Lucas forever.

I can still feel the pull, it is like the straining pull of a bow over violin strings, guiding it's fellow along into creating sweet, but haunting melodies beneath me.

I do not know what became of Lucas, I have not heard of him nor seen him since. Although I have looked, tirelessly for centuries.

[journalofthelongsincedeseased]

Artemis Drachild

At the moment of meeting his eldest brother my relationship and all the care Lucas had showed me vanished. The evil magics that ran in that family were strongest in those that fed on humans and fed the most frequent.

Lucas fed on animals, his steaks dripped when we ate out and he would leave late at night to feed on rats and other things, although he spoke of having a job at a mill.

We had a wonderful little life, so peaceful and gone in an instant.

Artemis Drachild was not like Lucas, not in any way. Tall, dark, handsome with a swaying to his movements that made you feel you might be swept up in an endless waltz of his own devising.

Of course, it was to his delight to find that Lucas had found a pet, and only too delighted to take me from him.

To Lucas, he and humans were equal, circumstance had simply afforded him time.

But to Artemis, I and all human kind were servants, or food.

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The Drachilds Family

Lucas had told me he was a single child, orphaned and simply trying to find his way in the world, much like myself at the time(Well, prior to the drink).

He was squat, in his early 20's, mousy and sweet. His patience with me was at times more then I thought I deserved as I look back on the it now.

But his kindness continued, and soon we were living together in my home. Working, laughing, loving, his music was remarkably smooth and warm. I could feel it in my bones as I lay in bed listening to him play. No matter what was going on during the day, or week, or what have you his music would sooth my very core and I would find peace.

We were happy.

If only he had taken the time to tell me about his true family we might have been prepared for such pain later, but alas, wishing to be normal and to have a normal life, brought our life together to a swift, bitter end.

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Introduction(Part 2)

Contented I was to follow my brother in foot steps. Oh, so assured I was that I would find my end in consumption that I stumbled my way down alley after alley, bar to bar to speak easy for every drop of cool liquor I could afford. Only stopping when my legs and mind would no longer communicate to my benefit and dropped me against the nearest wall or on the nearest bench.

This is where he found me, my first love. Lucas Drachild.

Yes, quite on the nose as names go, I know. Well, the family prided themselves on the lineage they held and entitled themselves accordingly. Of course it was not until I met the rest of Lucas' family did I learn the truth behind the name.

Lucas was nothing like his family. He was kind, loving, patient, sweet, a truly beautiful soul.

I was 21 when we first met and his kindness brought me back and drew me away from my dark path and into a seemingly lighter one.

He too played the piano.

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Introduction(Part 1)

My name is Alexander Donovan and I live in West London, three stories above the street in an apartment I share with my younger brother Anthony. A thick-headed, boorish, out-spoken pianist. I told him, time and time again that to be so loud is sure to bring about bad fortune.

We had been living in the same place for neigh on ten years. Our parents had passed the year before and it was now up to me to find my way, as well as my brother's.

Anthony seemed determined to butt heads with every single person we met. Yelling, insulting, fighting, and only when it was just the two of us and a piano did he seem like his normal self.

Of course fighting makes enemies and this was true for my brother. A young man he had grown quite a feud with at the time had managed to get a hold of a knife of high quality. The kind designed to maim and kill, one after the other.

One evening as we sat peacefully in our rooms. Myself reading, Anthony playing piano, several men burst into our home and holding me back the man with a grudge put his knew blade right through Anthony, over and over and over until my brother's shirt and the attacker's hand were drenched in blood.

They left me there, draped over my brother in shades of despair, where you learn how I became acquainted with near a dozen empty bottles daily. For after his death, I seemed destined, if not determined to join him.

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The Day to Begin

I am sure I have said this many a time, but the time is now. If I am going to tell my story it is in dictation to one whom I trust.

Mary Ann Winslow. I have known those of her name since long before her own birth and I shall know what children's children may yet be. With that said, where to start if not my first bite?

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It stems from the frothing undercarriage, betwicts the wheel and mud,

I feel it’s life release as the petals brown and dust,

But trust that nothing will suffocate, nor tear at its heart,

For beauty is forever even after we depart. -Unknown