When I was at school the other day waiting for class to start, I got an idea for a story and decided to run with it. I had just been lamenting the Twilight *ahem* sparkly *cough* vampires, and thinking about the more traditional view of nosferatu... aka, Dracula. Anyways, I was thinking about all the different versions of vampiric literature and mostly the vast range of vampires in folklore - they are almost as widespread across cultures as dragons are, believe it or not. From my spontaneous research, I have discovered that most cultures in most times have their own versions of a vampire, although the term "vampire" wasn't predominant until 18th century Europe. But even the ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamians had some version of a vampiric creature in their folklore.
Anyways, back to my original topic... I decided to write on myself... my own take on a vampire, not a romanticized hero, but neither is he a completely evil villian. Here is the first draft of the introduction... tell me what you guys think. :)
I have roamed this earth for an eternity.
I've watched civilizations rise and fall.
Throughout the ages I have been both admired and hunted, revered and accursed. Endless stories have been written of me, some paint me as romantic, a tragic hero, but most name me monster. In truth, I am neither and both. I am Andrei Kardos. I am Vampire.
The endless years have stretched with a neverending loneliness and pain. I grow weary of this world, and yet there is no escape. Long have mortals been envious of the idea of immortality, yet they do so without thought of the maddening loneliness such a lifetime offers. I grow so weary of this life that I would welcome a slayer's arrival. How the true ancients of my kind cope with the loneliness, I know not. For it has been centuries since I've known even the company of my own kind.
It was not always this way, you know. At one time, the name of Andrei Kardos was held in high esteem. I was a master smith, forging blades for the most powerful men in all Wallachia, Transylvania, and Hungary. My work had transcended the merely functional and became truly an art. My blades were the most prized in all the land, and I grew in respect and power.
. . .
More to come at another time... as I write it or as I feel like posting it, lol.
Goodnight all, or should I say "Good evvenning..." ;)