- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- In the mornings usually but only during the week. Weekends are devoted to the family.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Genres
- Modern, Magical, Romance, Medieval, Fantasy, Slice of Life
The foreman, a stout man that had worked for the alchemist for years, trembled, voice shaking as he attempted to offer an explanation that he did not have. "I--I don't know, sir. But we found Evan's body not far from here. The new hire…The-the vampire must have somehow gotten a hold of him…fed on him enough to.."
"Silence!" Sebastian yelled out, not caring to listen to the rest of his explanation. This was his fault. He should not have underestimated the vampire's will to survive. If he wanted something done right, he should always do it himself. He should not have trusted someone else with his most prized possession.
He removed the spectacles from his face and wiped the glass with a small handkerchief in his shirt pocket. He had to remain calm. "Your idiocy never ceases to baffle me," he breathed out as he returned the glasses to his face and stepped over the shattered glass to move out of the laboratory. He had to right this wrong and immediately. He had plans and he would not let them be ruined by an escaped experiment. "Get me the hunter! NOW!" he yelled behind him before he slammed the door behind him, the vials on the wall rocking a bit as he did.
The foreman rattled in his boots, his entire body jerking at the sudden yells of his boss. He rushed out behind the man, attempting to ignore the bloodied knives and forceps he had to step over and went in search of the hunter. Whatever Sebastian Caddel wanted, he got. It didn't matter what he had to do to get it. Being Sebastian's brother would only save him for so long before the man grew tired of him too. The foreman knew this and was quick to send word to the hunter before it was his blood on those same instruments.
—---
The gaping wound in his chest, where the man kept his chest cracked open, had reopened slightly and he was slowing bleeding again. He had to find someone or something to feed on. He needed to stop himself from bleeding. He needed to heal. He needed his strength back. He grasped the side of the stone building and got back to his feet. His long black hair fell over his sunken face as yellowed eyes scanned the area until they landed on a stray dog feeding from the nearby trash. He didn't have his speed but he managed to throw himself far enough to land on the dog and wrestle it beneath him and sink his teeth into its back. He didn't care how he got the blood, so long as he did. The blood of animals would never be satiating to him but it was enough to at least stop his chest from continuing to bleed and just enough to at least keep him going until he found a more suitable alternative. He pushed the remains of the dog into the trash and struggled back to his feet again.
He would run, he would keep running. He had no other choice. His thoughts were still jumbled and it was hard for him to make sense of where he was. He hoped he was heading in the right direction at least. For now he kept to the shadows, for now he hid until he could find his next meal. He licked the bit of blood from his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. James tried not to look upon himself, to avoid his reflection at all costs. He had been drained of everything, kept from regenerating, kept from his only life force until he was barely a shell of his former self. He was unrecognizable, even to himself. He pushed himself forward, stumbling as he moved, holding on to whatever he could to remain upright. He was starving. He felt feral and he was sure he was at the cusp of losing his mind all together. He was being driven to madness. The man wanted him to be a vicious beast. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He just needed to feed....and now.