Memoirs of A Blood-Suckermature

    Greetings, children. Yes, children, for in my eyes, you are all young. I will explain, later, but as of now, I shall introduce myself. My name is Augustus Cornelius Questelle, and I am dead. Well, actually I should probably refer to myself as undead, but then that would entail that I were in fact alive. Which I am most certainly not. I have not felt air in my lungs nor blood in my veins for centuries. With such mortal things lost, I gain many things as well, many things that I will demonstrate later in these memoirs.
    Now, though, I shall describe my appearance, because I am sure you are all putting together a personification of me, my writings, my voice. Also know that I am not modest, I tell the truth, and I openly share my opinions with you, for better or worse. I am fairly tall, but by no means a giant, for I like to blend as much as possible. I do not do a great job at it, I am afraid. My body is rather thin, and toned, and pale, but not unhealthy looking. I do not seem dead, just as if I do not step out during daylight ours. Pigmentation is another human thing I miss. Thankfully I still have my hair, raven black, slick and just in general raven-like. My eyes are pale, a dying shade of green from past years, never destined to be the emerald shade they once were. It's dreadful really. I am handsome, I would say, in a curious way. I am also rather charming. Like I said, I am most certainly not modest. I have very white teeth, luckily they aren't stained by blood, I mean you know how hard the stuff is to get out of a nice pin-strip suite, do not you? I've heard milk does the job, but I was lactose intolerant in my past life, and I am not going to take my chances.
    Now what shall I say? I suppose I could begin with the night I died, that would be a good story. I am sure you living people love that sort of stuff. Well, as you might have already assumed, it took place in an alley. A Parisian alley, nonetheless. I had previously attended the theater with my date, her name was Adeline, if I remember correctly. I had already escorted her home, being the gentleman I was, and began my trek back to my humble maison, when I was politely caught by the arm. Immediately I was paralyzed. Not literally, but by the beauty my eyes were now gorging on. Her face was beautiful, heart-shaped, and pale, like mine. Her eyes were the most stunning blue I had ever seen, like and whirlpool in the ocean. Dark, strong around the edges, then giving way to pale blue swirls near the pupil. The sclera of her eyes seemed to glow around her iris, lighting them, making her even more entrancing.
    She spoke in hushed tones, her voice was melodic and light, much like that Nicole Kidman woman, except not as dreadfully creepy. What, the woman looks dead to me? I am dead, and I drink blood, I KNOW creepy, and she IS CREEPY! I do not even remember what she had said, I was too preoccupied with picking at every detail of her face, her skin, her body, her large, ruffled dress. She held me by the hand, I remember it being cold, and that it sent a chill down my spine. Still, I was a man of simple things at the time, one of which was hot passionate sex in the back alley she was now leading me into. How naive of me. It was dark, and I remember her grabbing the collar of my tuxedo, and heaving me into the side of one Le tabac et l'alcool magasin, then crumpling into a pathetic heap upon the bloodied cobblestone. After that I just remember an intense fire igniting my neck, and then blackness. The woman, or rather blood-sucking leech-bitch who killed me, was one Phoebe Meurtre, world renound seductress, vampire, and Parisian Elder.
    After that, I woke up in the same alley, partially toasted, due to the fact that I had been partly singed by the sun reflecting from the morning clods onto me. It felt like a sun burn, a mild sun burn. "Some what" angry, I stopped around, cursing, until I figured out that it would be best to avoid the sun rise, for I would probably be immediately incinerated. So, sticking to the shadows, I found my way home, where someone was waiting.
    Guess which blood-sucking leech-bitch it was that was sitting on my couch.....