A villains wish for death




Thyde stood in the face of Big Ben, looking out over the city of London. Without flinching the clock sounded out loudly twelve bongs, striking midnight. Thyde blinked before answering the unheard and apparently unposed question:

"I have been alive since 1806, spending the majority of my time in London. I've seen news articles about Jack the Ripper, who surprisingly turned out many of my meals. Following that chap around was like following a victim that never died."

The man who posed the question, a short man with brown hair, a tie, and a briefcase held tightly to his chest, stepped out of the door leading to the ledge of Big Ben. He peered over, wiped the sweat from his head with his tie, and began speaking:

"What did you say your full name was? I.." He was cut off.

The other man answered, "My name was Louis Johnathan Remmington III, but that was a long time ago. Most think that Vampirism is a curse of undeath that is given to you from one who is already in the state of undeath. In fact, it is not, but rather is a state of unlife. I have been this way since I can remember, and I have not died yet, nor did I die when I was brought into this lifestyle."

The man held tightly to the side of the clock, obviously making mental notes of what was being said. He cleared his throat and continued speaking:

"Could you turn so that I can see your face?"

Thyde turned suddenly, glaring at the man, bearing his fangs:

"You mean so that you can see these? I have been shunned simply because of these, you know. I am called a prowler, a menace. Who really is the menace, Mr. Zaltosky? You're an American, are you not? And you come from Paragon City. You're here doing a report, treating this like it would be like that movie, but oh no. You are having your interview with a vampire, but in no way will I be docile as Brad Pitt was!"

Bob Zaltosky looked out over London, the sun was beginning to rise, and with confidence he spoke to Thyde:

"The sun is coming up! You have no place to go and hide now, except inside this clock. And then I'll notify the police and you'll be dead before tomorrow night!"

Thyde stared at Zaltosky with his chilling grey eyes, a grin spreading across his face:

"Please Mr. Zaltosky, do you think that those tales you read are true? Do you think that sunlight really kills us vampires? If that were true then half of us would be dead already. No, my friend, it does not kill us. It has the same effect on us as it would any other being. Well, there is one difference, Mr. Zaltosky, and that is the fact that it makes it terribly hard for us to see when we stare into it."

Thyde laughed and made his way toward the now frightened reporter. Zaltosky gripped his briefcase tightly, backing toward the door, which was already closed.

Thyde stalked toward the man, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt:

"And now, Mr. Zaltosky, your interview is over. You'll be leaving for good, where as I, I will be making my way to your pathetic city. Goodbye Mr. Zaltosky."

And with that final goodbye Thyde threw Zaltosky over the ledge of the clock, sending him into the traffic below where it was later deemed a suicide.

(More to come. Feedback is of course welcome.)