Meanwhile, in Paris...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
The beginning of the adventures of Alexandre deLacroix, vampire and Holy Templar.

Submitted: November 27, 2007

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Submitted: November 27, 2007

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 I remind of these times... The Holy Templars, the Holy Crusades... I just can't seem to leave it behind, even after 800 years. Those were the times; the war against the heathen in the name of God, and for His glory... Even now that I am supposedly damned, I can't seem to be able to let go of my vows. Even now that I became a monster; in appearance and in my acts... A vampire they called me. A demon. Doomed to go in Hell after I die. Still, I live only to repent myself of my past sins. My living sins and my undead ones. I pray everyday. I confess every week. For 800 years after my death I continue to have the same faith I had while I lived. I hate what I became, but still, I cling to my very existence. That wretched existence that led me to harm many men, woman or even children because of that damned hunger. That godforsaken hunger that consumes me each and every night. That hunger who leads me to do even greater harm if I don't satiate it. It is as they say :"A monster I am, lest a monster I become.". I have to hide from the eyes of the mortals to stay alive, for I may be old and powerful, but there are six billion human beigns out there. I have to admit I am clearly outmatched.

In my long unlife, I met many people; be they undead or alive. I learned everything I could from them. They told me that God rejected us, the vampires, from His Holy Realm. That we are damned. The one thing I still don't understand: why ? I didn't chose to be like this. I fought the good fight, and should have died an honorable death on the battlefield. But someone else had other plans for me. Seems like I never gave him the chance to tell me why he did this to me. Why he chose me to be one of the vampires. Why he chose me to bear his curse. They say the face of death is ugly. Then I am worse than death itself. I am even worse than your worst nightmare. My face became so unbearable to see after he game me that wretched gift of blood, that I don't even want to remember what I look like. I have to wear a porcelain mask to hide my unbearable visage. The mask the love of my life made me. Love. What a strange thing. They say vampires cannot feel love or happiness. That the only feelings they have is anger, jealousy, regret, sorrow, hate, pain... But I am sure I felt love when I met her. She looked at my face. And she didn't scream. She didn't closed her eyes or turned away from this demonic appearance. She kissed me. She loved me. She died. Her music soothed my sorrow, calmed my hunger and my anger. She made me feel alive. And now she's gone. Dead. I cried for the first time in centuries when she went away to Heaven. I am sure she is there now. I asked a priest to give her the last sacraments before the sun rose. He absolved her of her sins. He blessed her. Then the sun took her away.

We are what we choose to be. Most vampires choose to live and die as monsters. I chose to live as what I am; a Holy Templar. A warrior of heaven. And when I die, it is like this that I will die. I won't be inside what I am outside. I am manu things; a holy warrior, a scholar, a man, a vampire even. But not a monster. That I will never be. And if I can destroy these monsters who threaten God's creation, then I will use all the power that damned curse gave me to do it. I swear to God up in Heaven that I will reclaim my soul when my time comes, and I will join my brothers like I was supposed to do a long time ago. Until that time comes I, Alexandre Delacroix, will continue to hide under the Notre-Dame Cathedral, continuing my duty as a knight of the Pope, even if the Templar Order was dismantled a very long time ago. In my old rotten heart, it is all the same as before. As long as there are monsters out there, I will fight them and as long as there is a god to pray, I will do it every day of my existence. Sorry, my brothers, if I take time to join you, but my journey is still very long, I fear.

Here it is Father. I told you all the truth about me. Fear me or hate me if you want. I'm used to it. But one thing's for sure: God bless the Seal of the Confession. You now have to keep that as a secret, forgive me. And if you don't believe me, why don't I show you what's hiding under this mask? Maybe then you'll believe me. I suggest you don't do like Thomas; believe witouht having seen. Now let us pray together. I think you have many things to pray for, Father. May God forgive me for troubling you and may He forgive you for fearing me. I certainly do.


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