[i:c2f982cb6a]My name for the most part is irrelevant. But for ease I will call myself Sam.

It’s funny how things turn out. Twenty years ago I was living the high life, basking in sunshine. And then he came.

I’d been led to believe that death was the end. That for all my wealth, status and possessions, that one day no fee would be asked. Charon would not ferry me to the land of the dead. No tunnel of white light would guide me to Heaven. The premise didn’t scare or concern me truth be told. After all, immortality would surely make life feel empty and jaded?

If only that were true.

He came to me as if in dream. His name, well the name he used, was Owain Evans. I’d welcomed his interest in my company, little did I know he had greater intentions than contracting my assistance. His bite did more than kill me. It opened my eyes to the frightening truth. That death really wasn’t the end.

But more than that, his bite became a herald for his end as well as my own.

I awoke three days later

Starving, though I could find no comfort in the foods in my pantry. Alone, for I knew not of the race I’d been dragged into. And most of all, afeared because my creator had abandoned me. Though as I searched my apartment for some trace of him, all I found were ashes.

As I struggled, as a newborn might, to find food. I came to realise, at least in part, what I had become. Driven to desperate measures I took my first life and in the song that echoed in my blood-feasting heart I heard his voice. Echoing, discordant and guiding my own.

And so I continued. I liquidated my business. And over the years discovered my place in the society I’d been thrust upon. Were it not for my ingrown will and resilience, I believe I would have remained outcast, downtrodden and beaten. Instead I found a place of my own, and some way to pass the time. And god knows, time, it seems, I have in spades.[/i:c2f982cb6a]

((wow, i've never seen you post in 1st person.