To be honest, reader those first few years with Valentine were the best in my life, at least from what I could remember. Even though Valentine claimed he was not a “typical” vampire, he sure liked to live like one. His mansion was ostentatious in its size and the inside was no better. The walls were decorated with famous paintings, blown up to ridiculous dimensions so they fell floor to ceiling. He had a replica of the “Mona Lisa” and “Starry Night” and all kinds of other worldly paintings. He boasted about the seven libraries he had, even though I had never even seen him read a book. He had purple drapes (the color of royalty, after all) in every single room and gaudy class chandeliers hanging in every room. And, of course, there was gold everyone. It was bold and tacky, but he loved it. It was like he was trying to impress his visitors, but the only visitors he ever had were the ghosts of the men he had boasted about killing after they had built him his mansion. By the time I left, I had explored every room at least a hundred times. I will never know how I missed the room I found on the night of my departure. Maybe Valentine was hiding it from me or maybe I was hiding it from myself. When I found that vile room, I knew Valentine for what he truly was- a monster. Before all that, though, I was having the time of my life discovering his house and discovering my powers.

The hardest part for me was resisting mortal blood and only drinking animal blood. As Valentine had mentioned, mortal blood was the best thing for me and would allow me more strength and less feedings, but I still retained some of my humanity. I could not bring myself to end the life of mortal, no matter how good Valentine claimed it tasted. Valentine loved mortal blood so much, and thought it was a necessity more so than anything on this planet, that he took it as a personal offense every time I refused a mortal. He would not speak to me for days on end, until he eventually forgave me because he was bored talking to himself. We went through this every few months or so, me always refusing the fresh blood of a mortal, for the more earthly blood of the animals that lived in the nearby forest, then Valentine getting upset and throwing a fit. But the animals sustained me just fine and I will never regret taking as long as I did to drain a mortal. At my onset, I wasn’t interested in being the most powerful and the best vampire in the world, which is something Valentine said human blood can give you. I was happy learning my new powers and the ways of my new life.

Learning to control my powers was the most fun and the most irritating part of the first months of my new life. It was exciting to discover all these new abilities I had, but I couldn’t master them immediately, which was what I wanted to do. The first power I tried to harness was the closing of my mind. Valentine was constantly tuned to me, as if I were his personal hand radio or something, and he was always laughing at the thoughts that ran through my head. Valentine told me that the easiest way to master the skill of keeping a vampire out of my mind was to think of a brick wall. (I know, cliché, but weirdly enough, it works.) Then the person who was trying to read my thoughts would have to be strong enough to break through that wall and wouldn’t see anything unless they did so. In a nutshell, it was a battle of the wills. Whomever had the stronger will would have access to those thoughts. The same was true if a vampire tried to control me. If I were able to throw up that brick wall, I could potentially stop any vampires from entering my mind and playing around with it or me. Protecting my mind was the most important thing to me, so whenever Valentine was asleep, I stayed up to practice the brick wall trick. I practiced as often as I could get away with; even sometimes when Valentine was around just to see if I could do it. Sometimes I was able to block him out for a short amount of time and I could see how impressed he was. He had told me that it takes vampires lifetimes to master this skill, and I had almost mastered it in just a few years.

It took me a total of 43 years, but I was finally able to master it and I mastered it just in time. It was only 54 years later that I really needed to use that power and it was the only power I was really diligent with, but it helped me escape in the end, so I am grateful I at least stuck to that one skill. (I realize, now, that 54 years could possibly be considered a long time to someone reading this. To vampires, however, 54 years is one or two years in mortal years. Years go by in the blink of an eye and because we live so long, it feels like no time has passed at all.) I was really starting to come into my own as a vampire: I could levitate, I was still able to have my time in the sun and I could block my thoughts and my mind from other vampires. I was even on my way to controlling other people’s thoughts and actions. As far as I was concerned, I was set. As the years passed, Valentine became more and more agitated with me, especially when I was able to completely block him from my mind. He was not happy when he couldn’t read my thoughts and know every little thing I was doing. He claimed that he had never controlled me, but I would wake up in his room sometimes, so I knew that wasn’t true. I had seen him look at me with lust in his eyes, so I didn’t want to know what he had controlled me for. What would I not do awake that he made me do asleep. I just wanted all of this controlling to end. I wanted to be in control of my life and not let some old vampire control me. I did, however, stick around for a long time. Longer than I should have. But he was my maker, and it was really hard to leave the person who had made me. But, it was time. Living with the same person for 97 years really wears a person down. And Valentine had finally crossed the last line.

One thing I couldn’t stand anymore were these little “gifts” that Valentine loved leaving me. He gave them to me when ever I would go out during the day, just to explore or to eat. I never went past the forest- I did not want the temptation of having humans around me, so I stick to the animals. It was definitely lonely, not having anyone to talk to except for Valentine and the animals, but I had made my peace with it. Anyways, these “gifts” were usually on the brink of death, so when I came home at night it would be waiting for me. I would always look at these “gifts” with disgust in my eyes, the victim cowering away from me, knowing their death awaited. I could never get too close to them, because the smell of the blood enticed me too much. But I would do what I could for them, telling them they could go home, that I wasn’t going to kill them. I knew in Valentine’s anger towards me, he would at least put them out of their misery and enjoy the blood himself. Even though Valentine was starting to become cross with me and the fact that I never took a mortal life, he never made any others, just me and I believe he was proud of that fact. He certainly said it often enough and he liked to rub it in the council’s face even though they would rather him make more. I also wanted him to make more because I was tired of being his only companion. There had to be someone else out there that would enjoy this old man’s company. A life with Valentine let me do what I wanted, albeit under his watchful gaze and I knew it was time for me to move on, to live my own life. As the years passed, I started hating the vampire life more and more. I hated the huger and the yearning for human blood. I hated always having to protect my mind and body; it was exhausting. On this particular day, I was hoping I could confront Valentine and just let him know I was done; let him know I was ready to venture out on my own. I was hoping that Valentine would just let me go, no questions asked, just give me a peaceful “goodbye” and “keep in touch”. I was done with the vampire lifestyle. I wanted to feel normal again- I wanted to feel mortal again.

I thought Valentine was at home so I began to search through the mansion, trying to find him. I knew I could call out to him with my mind, but I had worked hard at keeping that brick wall up and I didn’t want to stop now. I had been through this mansion so many times I knew it by heart. I took about 5 minutes to go through the 13 bedrooms and the six studies he had in his house. I didn’t want to let down my shields at all so I had to do what mortals do and actually work to find him. After those rooms, I started searching the libraries. I didn’t find him in the first three, so in the fourth library, I took my time. It still amazes me, to this day, how many rooms he had and how much he tried to keep up appearances. Any live thing that went to his mansion died so I was never sure why he felt the need to keep them up. And anytime anyone from the council came, they never noticed how classy his place was or how nice he looked; they were more concerned about how many others he had made. Those beings were very strict with their rules and how a vampire should live so the fact that Valentine didn’t follow these rules really made them angry. These beings were tired of life and everything on this planet, though, so they didn’t try to regulate too much. Though, at times, I was sure they were going to end Valentine’s life, they never lifted a finger against him. Valentine continued to do what he wanted, no matter what they said, and they were too tired to do anything about it. I never had anything to do with them, I didn’t understand the point of them, I just knew they were the original vampires and they were the most powerful beings on earth. I left them alone, and they left me alone. Valentine had told me I wouldn’t have to worry about them as long as I was under his wing. I wondered if they would bother me once I was on my own, but I didn’t care enough to try and find out. I just knew I was done with Valentine and I thought if I kept my head down, they would continue to leave me alone.

. I opened the double doors of the fourth library and called out his name, the word echoing throughout the entire room. I was always a little awed whenever I walked into one of the libraries; it was so huge and had so many books. I have never cared for trivial things like books, even as a mortal, but it was still a tremendous sight to see. Each wall was covered floor to ceiling with bookshelves, with even more shelves in the center of the room. The smell of old books immediately hits you in the face and transports you back to the era these books were first written. It was amazing, and sometimes I wished I enjoyed books just so I could spend more time in these rooms.

I had known when I first entered the room that Valentine wasn’t in it, but I couldn’t help my awe and lost in my thoughts of leaving, I wondered throughout the room. I also wanted to take my time searching, just in case, since I was shielding from him and I knew he was shielding from me. I continued deeper and deeper into the library, the room seemingly endless until I finally reached the back wall. There was a canvas painting hanging on the wall stretching from floor to ceiling, one I had never noticed before. In all my 97 years here I didn’t think I had ever gone this deep into the library. I walked up to it, wondering when he had received it and who had done it for him. It was a painting of Valentine himself stretched up to his full 6’7” height but because of the length of the painting looking a thousand feet tall. His eyes were painted black and his lips were spread in an evil grim. His eyes were focused on his victims: three young boys cowering off to the side, trying to cover a fourth boy who had already died. They were all standing in a pool of blood, which covered the whole bottom of the painting. There was blood running out of Valentine’s mouth, covering his shirt so I could imagine he had been the one to kill the little boy. He arms were raised and he looked ready to pounce and the other three boys had such terrified looks on their faces, it was all I could do not to look around to make sure this monster wasn’t lurking somewhere, ready to attack me. I wondered who would even paint this for him and what kind of sick creature would put it on his wall. I leaned against the painting, trying to wrap my head around this. I knew he fed on mortals, almost every night in fact, but children? What a sick fuck. I hit the painting with my fist, angry that someone out there would do this painting for him, would showcase the face of this monster and instead of the dull thud you hear when you hit a wall, I heard a metallic clink. ‘What…?’

I hit the painting again, this time a little harder, punching a hole through the canvas. I peered through the hole and noticed the wall behind was made out of metal. I didn’t want to go snooping in case Valentine was out there waiting to feed on me, but after living here for this long I thought I knew all the ins and outs of this place. This room was new; or at least something Valentine made damn sure I would never find. With a grunt I tore the whole painting down, revealing a large metal door. I had to find out what was in here before I left. I don’t even remember what drove me, but I couldn’t think of anything Valentine would want to hide from me. He had always let me have free roam of this place and the forest outside; what on earth would he want to hide from me that he had used that horrible painting to cover it?

I saw that the door was padlocked with a chain, but that wouldn’t be a problem for me. I grabbed where the lever met the ward and yanked up. I had to exert a little strength, but Valentine had underestimated me if he has used this lock to deter me. After a few seconds of pulling, the lever came out of the ward with a little metallic “ping” and snapped off, the whole lock falling off the chain, the chain sliding to the floor after it. I looked around, the painting still fresh in my mind, sure that Valentine had heard the noise but saw nothing behind me. I took a breath, making sure my mind was still blocked and that nothing would bring the mental wall down. Opening the door revealed a long hallway, pitch black but easily seen by me. I entered the hallway, feeling out with my mind to make sure no one was in the hallway with me. When I was satisfied no one was, I continued the length of the hallway. At the end there was another door, this one not even locked, let alone padlocked. Apparently Valentine never thought anyone would get through the first door. The strong metallic odor of blood filled my nose. I was very wary about opening the door, but I had to see what was in the room and where the smell was coming from.

I pushed open the doors and allowed the second it took for my eyes to adjust as it was brighter in this room than in the hallway. When my eyes had adjusted I looked around and reeled back through the doorway in horror.

“No…” I didn’t want to get closer, but I had to be sure of what I was seeing. I went back into the room, into the pool of light in the center. The room had about twelve metal posts bolted to the floor, not quite reaching the ceiling. The posts were a rust color because of all the blood that had stained them. Right now, thankfully only 6 of them were being used, but it was more than I wanted to see. Attached to each posts by what looked to be large nails, were six young boys, maybe around the age of ten or eleven. Each boy was suspended upside down, their feet at the top of these posts hammered in with the large nails. The rest of their bodies hung freely, each one over a large tub. The boys had horrified expression on their faces as if they had been killed at the height of their fear. My mind went back to the canvas that had been covering the first door moments ago. Each boy’s throat had been cut into what looked like huge, grotesque smiles and their wrists had been slit. The strain of being upside down had starting tearing some of the boys heads off their shoulders so some were just hanging on by a thread of skin. Most of their feet had also started tearing through the nails, so that they were almost falling off the posts. All their blood was running into tubs placed directly below each boy. I knew the tubs were there to collect any blood that ran out of their bodies. This was Valentine’s blood room; a room he kept hidden because he didn’t want anyone to know just how awful he was. If he didn’t want to go out for blood, he could just come here and take a bath in the blood and have his fill. I retched, saliva dripping from my mouth. No one deserved this, especially not little kids. My stomach started to cramp and I felt disgusted at myself when it started to growl. More saliva started to drip from my mouth and I felt my incisors start to grow. Because I am not trying to leave anything out, reader, I will admit to how much I wanted to join Valentine at that point. The blood was getting to me and I wanted to taste it; I wanted to jump into one of the tubs and slather myself with their blood and have my own fill. The urge was so strong that a sound between a moan and a scream escaped my lips as I forcefully pulled my body from the room. I wanted it so badly that tears starting running down my face; but I would not let myself be the monster I now knew Valentine to be.