Mortals believe that for vampires, blood is the sign of youth, eternity. They do not realize also represents death and an eternal hell.

I'm forever trapped, hidden away, screams unheard, unable to die, a spell never broken, forever lost, praying, hoping, holding onto one day, a promise never fulfilled, to come back, return to my hell, free me, let me escape, for he put me here, and forever I shall remain.

I looked around my eternal hell as I call it, other, mortals would call it a tomb. High walls held my ceiling, four walls that trapped me. So much room in a black hell, I knew the dimensions as though they were my hands. 103 paces long, 76 wide, I walked them every day. Grey, the only colour I saw. A small hole in my roof letting the sun pour itself in, air that filled my lungs seeping though my little whole. Grey and gold, how could I forget that, golden rays, revealing they grey. Grey stone floor, grey stone walls, grey stone roof, everything grey, everything stone.

Even my bed, a rectangular alter, stone, under my sheet. A sheet of silk, the colour of blood, draped, covering my later, my bed.

It thought I would go mad in the first few weeks, how ironic what that, I was made when they put me in here, my mind twisted, insane. Yet I knew what was going on, I could hear, feel, sense everything that was happening to me.

My tattered dress, ripped, torn at the sleeves and hem, flowed around my body as I strolled back to my alter, my bed. Hoisting my body onto it, I Lay back, my head resting upon the silk that rest on the stone of my resting place.

Once more I retraced the happenings that cast me to this tomb to my hell.

PAST

An autumn day, the same as I had experienced so many times before. My mother had told me to collect vegetables from the market, as always I complied, my basket made of twigs rested against my arm. I left the house, wishing my mother farewell, I did not know that would be the last time I ever saw her.

PRESENT

I missed her face, wrinkles appearing when she smiled. Often I wondered if she ever thought about me, ever cried in he sleep, mourned for the disappearance of her only daughter. I longed to know if she was alive, living with my father, helping my brothers.

Time seemed so distant to me, I had lost count of the rise and fall of the sun, months, years decade, centuries I had no idea, no way of telling. I did not know that I had been imprisoned in my tomb for 200 years. I simply waited, longing for the day he would return.

PAST 1799

I strolled happily back from the market in our village, it was 1799, the new year would be coming soon, times were changing, you could even feel them in out little village. My basket was full, healthy fresh vegetables, ready to be eaten laden in my basket of twigs.
As I strolled along the dirt path that led me home, the run rained down upon my face, a cool wind flapped around my legs as I walked. People used this path every day, I felt stupid for feeling anxious, why would I feel any different. My head turned slightly, out of the corner of my deep blue eyes I saw them. Three men, tall, blond seemingly in their own world, they were dressed in manly clothes of the era. They looked normal, friendly so why did I feel like this?

End Part 1