My fingers fly over the keys of the borrowed laptop, and I smile as I see the numbers jump up another notch as another transfer goes through.  My new stock pile is still continuing to grow and I’ll never be scavenging for scraps again.  Just a fraction of his fortune will take care of that.  And just like I anticipated…he made it so damn easy.

Trusting fool. 

It didn’t even take me an hour to crack all the codes in his laptop.  But with passwords like Intimidator, Kelley38 and Junebug8…what do you expect?  Not to mention anything I couldn’t figure out he had written down in his wallet or in a computer text document labeled pswds.  I didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what must be in that file. 

I swear in just one day he’s completely changed my existence and given me revenge on a world that left me behind years ago.  I may have been forgotten in two short years, but now I get to steal one more Earnhardt from the clutches of a world who worships him like a god.  Now he and everything he was, everything he had, is mine.   Why couldn’t I have stumbled across this gold mine sooner? 

Reach over to take a long drag from the cigarette burning in the ash tray next to the laptop and smile at how easy it all was.  Hell, he practically handed it to me on a silver platter.  He even had something respectable for me to wear to assume my new “official” identity…granted the pants were a few inches too long.  A few staples though and no one was the wiser.  I just can’t believe how smoothly it all went.  I even ended up finiding a nice striped button down in his closet to keep once I changed back into my jeans.  Maybe the “unlife” isn’t going to be so bad after all.

I lean back in the chair and prop my feet on the expensive desk, uncaring if my boots scuff the shiny varnish.  Then I pick up his bottle of whiskey at my side and alternate drinks from the bottle with drags from my cigarette.  It’s a good thing I know the underbelly of this city as well as I do.  Once I had the wad of money from his wallet and took as much from the ATM as I could--his pin number was his sister’s birthday--I was able to get all the papers I needed in a matter of hours.  Driver’s license, ID, passport, even a social security number and I had everything I needed to open off shore bank accounts to filter all his liquid assets into the account of the newly born “Michael Jefferies.”

I chuckle to myself and raise the bottle in a mock toast to my new name and good fortune before taking a long drink.  Honestly the hardest part of the day was deciding on my new name.  I mean, I had so many options to choose from.  Gordon Michaels, Michael Jefferies, Jeffery Michaels.  Not that it mattered.  All that really mattered was one smooth transaction after another.  It’s just a pity I don’t have more time to liquidate more.  But it seems he was always pretty frugal, storing most of his money in the bank and stocks that were easy to get my hands on.  I’ll be set for eternity with a few well placed investments.

And I’ll finally start to get back what was taken from me.

It’s funny how much a hot shower can change your entire outlook.  Just being able to wash away the grime of the city made a world of difference and I swear I will never go so long without one again.  Money is power and now that I have it I will never let it go again.  Crush my cigarette out on the heel of my boot before reaching for another and smile even more.  I have the life I was meant to have again and it’s all thanks to….

My Childe.

I pause, silver lighter poised to strike as the full implications of last night run through my mind for the first time.  Thumb slides over the striker as my gaze is finally drawn to the motionless figure on the bed as if pulled by a magnet I can’t resist.  He’s my Childe.  Mine.  And before long…he’ll wake.  And I don’t have the first clue how to deal with that.

Push off from the desk and slide my chair back as I take a drag from my newly lit smoke.  Stand in one fluid motion and then move closer to bed adorned in satin red and gold.  I haven’t thought much about him all day, except to fleece as much from his worldly accounts as I could, but as the sun begins to set…I can already feel the pull.  The pull of blood.  The pull of a connection deeper than anything I’ve ever known, and I instinctively know he will be waking soon.

I move to the corner of the room, passing by the large open living area and cast a glance to the young girl I have bound and waiting for him. I have to thank my good looks and his borrowed finery for her. It was so easy to lure her to this room instead of her own. But right now, she’s not my concern. He is. Continue to the end of the bed and move into in the growing shadows as the sun sets behind the heavy crimson drapes, and watch him still motionless in death.  But it’s a false death.  I know all too well and part of me screams deep inside that this is wrong; he shouldn’t be laid out like this so open and vulnerable. 

Images of a dark confined space suddenly play before my eyes and I’m overwhelmed with a flood of memories I’m usually able to suppress.  Too afraid to scream, mind numbing panic, and for an instant it’s all real again.  Bloody knuckles, torn nails, and suffocating dirt falling all around me and I have to get out.  My lungs that I don’t realize no longer need air burn in my chest as I claw my way to the surface.  Fear, panic, terror are all I know and then…cold, calculated, evil laughter.

I shake my head and force myself to focus on the now, the cool room, the taste of my cigarette, the soft sounds of the traffic outside…anything but the sound of that sadistic laughter of the one who made me and threw me away.  An involuntary shiver runs through me as I once again see cold eyes, cruel hands, and remember the twisted mind and all that was inflicted on me. 

“I won’t do it.”

Blink as the sound of my own voice seems to bring me back to the present and my eyes lock on him once again as I make a silent promise to myself.  I won’t do the same to him.  I won’t hollow him out and leave him with nothing but cold emptiness inside.  I won’t destroy his every emotion but fear and break him so completely that he prays for death nightly.  I won’t be my Sire.  I just…won’t.

But what if I’m doing the wrong thing?  It’s not like I have a clue how to do this.  I don’t even really know what’s going to happen.  It’s not like I had any kind of an example to learn from.  What if by having him here in these luxurious surroundings instead of six feet under I’m denying him some type of necessary birthing pain as he enters the world?  What if it makes him weak or worse?  But as I feel the barriers in my mind start to yield to claustrophobic memories my decision is already made.  My Childe won’t have that particular hell to haunt him for eternity.  At least I can assure him of that.

I raise my hand to bring my cigarette to my lips but then I find its long since turned to ash.  Drop it to the floor, uncaring if it spoils the carpet, as my eyes are still locked on the bed and the motionless body it holds.  The pull is stronger, more overwhelming and I can feel my blood in his veins.  I can smell myself on him, a mixture of my blood in his, and I know in the core of my being that he belongs to me and me alone.

He’s mine.  Everything about him is mine.  And whatever happens next, whatever the future holds he will always, always be mine.  I own him.  His body, his essence, his demon and I will never, ever let him go.  I will never let him endure the horrors that I barely survived.

But he will be mine.

For eternity.