"I don't care what you think about me. I'm not here for you, I'm here for me. I've been writing since 2005, and I don't trust you and I won't. I know people who Role Play lie about everything. If your friends list contains half naked people then likely you're cheating with them. There is nothing noble about you and all of your loftily words about how you feel are meaningless to me. Write and get on with it. If you hold a grudge against me for whatever reason...get over it. I made peace with all of this and I've moved on. Be whatever you like with whomever you like, all you do is prove me more and more right as time passes by. So shut up and write, this isn't real live and love is only for poets"

-I sit in my chair hearing the fire in the stone hearth pop and hiss, the light of the flames give a soft warm glow to the room as I do what I have done many nights. I sit and watch the sand fall in the hourglass, I can see each grain fall and join the other bits of sand at the bottom, piling up till the glass needs to be turned over once more, letting another hour tick by in the hands of time. I am Vincent Kent the II, I was born in 1142 to Vincent Erasmus and Lenore Estelle Kent. Named after my father I was honored with his name and the heavy burden that came with it…

As I grew I was tutored in the fine arts, music, literature and torture…yes I did say just that, torture. Both my father and mother were what you call Satan worshipers and I was also raised to respect the dark ways of the master. The home of Kent was a place of family and fun…but it’s not what you think. Few who came to the home of Kent ever was every allowed to leave, the ones that did were under the teachings of my father and mother and were every bit as evil and twisted…

At first I had no stomach for such, couldn’t watch anything of it…the screams, the cries for mercy and forgiveness all of which went unanswered. No as time past I began to embrace the respect and the power my father had…the lovers my mother had, both male and female…yes this was indeed fun, this was how it should be and one day it would all be mine as well. Of course in time I would surpass them in the depths of their evil and rise far beyond all they had achieved…

Each of my parents had their own talents if you could call them such, my father was able to bring the strongest man to tears in a matter of moment, bring them to the very edge of death and keep them there for days, weeks on end. My mother…the ultimate seductress, with her ways and her body she made anyone do her bidding, why asking for someone to murder for her was as easily obeyed as opening a door for a lady. The sounds of lust and sex coming from her private room echoed at times down the corridors of the Kent home and perhaps this was what made father decide he had enough in sharing what was his. Oh to be sure he knew what was going on, even joining mother on a few occasions. I think it was his pride that made him end mother’s life, yes I knew of this too…

I was there that night, I was in the room when he set his trained falcon on her. Edgar was the falcon’s name and well trained it was…with the simple command “Seek” the predator fell on my mother and in mere moments she was blind but the winged creature still did its work, shredding her flesh in what seem like a few second, the lifeless body of what use to be my mother fell onto the marble floor. Then without thought the bird returned to my fathers arm and was well rewarded for his actions…the servants removed my mother’s body, no service was held…I’m not even sure what happened to the body…

It wasn’t long after that when I became bored and sought out something even darker than my father, I ventured into the realm of the most evil…I sought out legend, myth and folklore…the undead, vampires. My upbringing showed me the way, I knew that what others only knew from ligature was very real and I wish to join them. I sat about the task of finding them, that in itself was foolish even for me…where does one begin? Even if I do find what I seek could even my darkness ensure that I won’t in the end be like cattle to them? No I shall not, I will not fall as prey but become the predator, days, weeks and months blurred as I sank even deeper into sin, lust and darkness until I met a lovely creature and creature she was to be sure and her name was Mirella. Mirella was pure darkness, her hunger unending and I was quiet taken but this and her. She thought I was strange, why would someone…human want to be cursed like she was, damned for all existence to walk this Earth searching for the life force that flowed through the vein…my veins.

My story was simple and I shared it with her, the craving for more…my hunger for evil and darkness like her own. The request was an easy thing, to bond with her, to give her what she desired and hungered for and in return I would be like her and live this forever night. Consenting to be her lover and slave until she deemed it fit to sire me and in the beginning it was wonderful sin and pleasure, what Mirella showed me was nothing really new…my parents had seen to that and in the end she became tedious and sexual it was getting to be a core, but I gave her what she wished and after what was an eternity or felt that why at least the time had come, the small framed girl who was a hundred years old bestowed upon me the curse of the undead.

Now in her eyes I was mated to her, hearing this only made my eyes roll and an amusing laugh echoed in the halls, Mated to you? I said…Oh no, no, no. You see I am Vincent Kent and now I shall be forever and the evil I will bring will be glorious! You see this Mirella had met her match in me and much more. How I was like my father, I used her as my father used my mother and before she thought to act against the treachery I moved as I had been planning for months…of yes vampires are hard to kill, well destroy but they can be destroyed. The stake that I had plunged into Mirella’s chest was of the finest wood she deserved that much…I guess. Now all that she owned was mine, the manor and grounds, servants and the riches that it held, but before I moved on with my existence I had unfinished business to attend see to.

Several months had passed and he had wondered if his father would remember the wayward son…of course he would remember and soon there would not be anything more to remember. The carriage ride back to his former home did not move him as it would do to others, the dead trees and cemetery where he played as a child were still the same and in the years to come would still be as they were. Upon entering his fathers home in his mind he could still hear and smell all the wonder things that he grew up with…moans of delight and the cries for help, the scent of searing flesh oh yes good to be home. Walking into his fathers den he wasn’t surprised to see him sitting in his chair drinking wine and feeling as if the world were still his to command, this was about to change. Vincent didn’t really go into any great detail about where he had been or Mirella …not even what he now was or the power he had. No this was in Vincent’s mind wasting time on someone who was not going to live long enough to understand or enjoy the depths of evil he had risen to, but he did tell his father he was here to claim what was his and that there was nothing he could do to stop him. This boast amused his father, but it wasn’t a boast and as the guards were called by his father…Vincent smirked and easily dispatched the first one, but toying more with the second as he lifted him into the air with on hand…a wicked laugh followed and then the loud snap of the neck before he tossed the lifeless body at his fathers feet.

There was shock and disbelieve on his father’s face, slowly Vincent move to the bottle of wine and poured himself a glass…savoring not the flavor of the wine but the silence of the moment and the moment to come. Vincent would not soil himself by feeding from his father but there would be blood on his hands. Walking over to the two large doors he closed and locked them…”And now dear father payment is due”…the panic from his father as he drew a small pistol from his weskit and fired on his son, Vincent felt the impacted from the bullet but no pain. Looking down he shook his head…”Bloody hell, this was my favorite coat”…moving quickly he grabbed his father head, a hand on either side and held him as a child and now smiling, showing his fang for the first and last time to him…”I am your creation, made by your hands and now I take that which is mine and atonement for all you have done to me”…kissing his father’s forehead Vincent’s hand pushed toward each other and the sensation of a overly ripe erupted between his hands…”Lovely, even in death you’ve made a mess of things”

Calling for the servants to see to the disposal of the body, as a jest he told them to strip the body and toss it into the hog pin…now all was his…Vincent now sat in the same chair as he did nearly two centuries ago, his life was more than just lust and sin…darkness as well followed him. History has lead me to many places and I have written my own history, I have been referred to as "Count" but what one thing I am most pleased with was my time in a place called Whitechapel...yes in September of 1888 I put my personal stamp on history as the first recorded serial killer...I'm sure you have heard of my nick name..."Jack"…as well as 1943 Paris France. Vincent was known then as Kurt Stein, Section 4 Gestapo leader in France, time had been his friend and he marched along hand in hand with it.

I know now I am cursed and forever damned to the fires of hell for my actions…over two hundred years ago. Now I sit and wait, wait for my time to end, feeding, lusting, killing for my needs and pleasure. When my time comes I will answer for what I have become, but I answer to no one to no one for what I am and what I do, I am Vincent Kent II and I am a vampire.