Post by Daniel on Aug 20, 2020 23:02:33 GMT 1
The world is full of crazy, but that’s nothing. There’s a line in the sand and if you cross it, you lose your soul. I was once a nice college boy with two nice parents and a dog. I smoked Lucky Strikes and typed up the life stories I gathered on a second-hand IBM Selectric for whatever rag would print them. Sure, I drank, but man, it was the seventies. My editor gulped neat bourbon for lunch.
I always got the best stories in the worst dives. The lower I got, the better it sold. The more I heard, the more I wanted. Who the hell wants suburbia when they’ve caught a glimpse of Sodom? People would tell tall tales whenever they saw me coming. Especially when I was buying the drinks. I heard about cults, killers, wild parties. I used to do tequila shots with the bums on the street. I’d talk to anyone if they looked interesting enough.
I found one hell of a story in a San Francisco bar. That was when I crossed the line and I never got home. You see monsters are real. They don’t live in the movies or under your bed. They have burning eyes and cultured voices.
After that last story, the devil himself found me. He pulled off my wings and bought me paradise. And no one could ever be interesting again. That’s when I hit the bottle hard. That’s when I swapped the Strikes for Marboro reds because I was never going to be lucky again. There was only misery for me and ecstasy too. There was only him.
I’ve still got a drinking problem. But it sure ain’t whisky now.
I lost ten years, just like that. I was reborn a demon and I laughed away the next decade. Hell had such bright lights! It roared. It was the eighties. And no matter where I was, if I looked up the stars, I could see his face and I would die a little more because there is only him.
I don’t know where he is now, this old, cold devil. This Armand. The child with cruel, wide eyes. He’s probably still watching me and I think he’s really suffering this time. God I hope he is. I love his pain. The bastard’s shredded my soul, so he should suffer for that. It’s the twenties now. And there’s still no place to run.
--
Daniel Molloy. (Often spelled Malloy.) VC.
Age: Perennially a young 35, made immortal in 1985.
Strengths and abilities: Vampire strength, Mind Gift.
General attitude: Bitter. A little mad. Very damaged as a result of a decade as Armand's plaything/ lover. Curious, obsessive, occasionally manic.
Romance/ Sex: No objections to anything.
Strengths and abilities: Vampire strength, Mind Gift.
General attitude: Bitter. A little mad. Very damaged as a result of a decade as Armand's plaything/ lover. Curious, obsessive, occasionally manic.
Romance/ Sex: No objections to anything.