This is an old story; it goes back many years ago. It was quite usual that one day it was raining, the next morning warm sun shine all over the chapel where the Holy Father held his speech. I could never listen to him while being obedient - it was impossible to sit on a wooden bench without a slightest movement, and that is for two hours. I simply could not handle it. My mother was never angry with me; she did not enjoy the protestant's talk either. Well, we had different reasoning, but the goals were alike: we wanted to get out of the church. Every day I had longed for the pale sunshine that was really rare since most of the time I locked myself up in my study room, reading ancient scrolls about curses and spirits. I was determined to become an exorcist once I grow up. However, fate turned against all my wishes and before even understanding it, I had been erased from the lists of both - those still alive, and those already dead.
It happened on my way back home, mother had stayed back to discuss something with the neighbours, father was still praying. I took the road though the forest, right past lake Eyrey, the deepest lake ancient tribes once described as "source of their magical power". On the hillside there was a private school for young boys, I knew only nobility were accepted, and since my father had been an ordinary werewolf hunter, I could never enter the great Lyceum. I heard the school's low voiced bell allowing the youngsters outside, away from the white capturing walls between which they had been studying the whole morning. I hurried up deeper into the woods and unexpectedly bumped into something warm. As I regained my brave sight I got a shock: before me there was standing a huge dog coloured as the golden sands of the desert. I was not afraid of it until he pushed his sharp teeth into my arm. I did not even scream. The dog released me and hurried on, he was going somewhere, determined to reach it. I was looking at the dog as he disappeared into the green bushes nearby. It was June, yet I was as cold as in the middle of the winter. And I lost my consciousness.
It was evening when I finally woke up, I was still lying in the middle of the forest road, my clothes dirtied with mud and stinky soil. It was disgusting, I felt as if I had lost a battle - and I was quite right, I did lose something very important that day: my mortality. Ever since that dog had bit me, I slowly became poisoned with deep madness, it spread from head to toes, from my mind to my heart. I could not feel love or joy for the sunlight any longer, all I could see were nightmares and daydreams - the dog that had bitten me carried rabies' virus. I was infected by it, I was dying.
For many days I stayed in bed, my parents were very worried, yet I could not shed a single tear for their lonesomeness, I could not react at all. Every day was identical to the one before, many doctors came and all had the same miserable look in their lost eyes. I knew everything, yet my mother was doing her best trying to hide the fact that my young days were coming to an end, and then autumn stroke. It was a cold September, both in weather and in my life. I felt how my spirit was slowly leaving the body behind, and all I could do was simply wave a weak "good-bye". A couple of days later I fell asleep and my pulse stopped and I finally closed my tired eyes, I was certain that it was the end, and in some ways I was correct, however, to my greatest surprise, I woke up again in the morning as if nothing had happened the previous months. I felt no pain, no sadness, no pulse - I was immortal in my own weird way. I was certain that this coma-like existence could not last forever, yet I decided to use it well as long as I could maintain so. I left home, dedicating myself to Biology and the study of deathful Madness that once had bitten me as well. I found no cure nor any of the other survivors, I was all alone.
This is an old story; it goes back many years ago. It was quite usual that one day it was raining, the next morning warm sun shine all over the chapel where the Holy Father held his speech. I could never listen to him while being obedient - it was impossible to sit on a wooden bench without a slightest movement. I did not see my mother, even though my eyes were desperately searching for her. She had stopped coming to the church; with this all ties I ever had had with the human world were cut off in a short quarter of the year.