The Last Vampirica Chapter 1: A So Called Adventure

I would like to invite you, Dear Reader, to consider a world of darkness; a world without hope, without faith and without love. A world in which the only people, born into it of natural descent like you or I, are tormented by almost people; people without hope, without fate and totally devoid of love. Dear reader, I would like to name for you these foul phantasmal aggressors to humanity; the dynasty of Vampirica. An ancient clan of non-human entities that inhabited the earth from the first year on record until 200 years ago. Or so it is said. I base my following tale on the great voyage I will undertake to trace the legend that one Vampirica remains; The Lady of Ravens.

I stared at my words blankly and placed my quill down on the desk; what was I doing? I couldn’t possibly plan a voyage to uncover some unknown secret I had read about in a book. As a start, I didn’t have a boat and I didn’t have a clue. My world is that of Erinsbourne. A small town on a small island in the middle of the sea; a place where everything was expected and nothing unexpected ever happened. A land where the sun rose and set with the passage of time. I often wondered as a child what would happen if one morning the sun never rose from beyond the horizon; would the people of Erinsbourne simply forget to rise from their beds? Would the people die just because no one told them to live?

That aside, what would I do to get a boat? More specifically a boat that could withstand the open sea and take me to Perville. I didn’t have the money for a boat. I didn’t have the money for anything really. So I would have to steal one; go to the one interesting thing in Erinsbourne - the harbor - and hop on a ship. It all seemed so easy when written on white parchment. I looked around the room for inspiration.

The fire died low in the hearth with each separate burning ember flaking away from its native motherland of the flame and wrought a shadowy ghost upon the deafeningly threadbare midnight blue carpet which adored the cracked wooden floor. That held nothing. I looked to the single bed wedged into the corner of the tiny room, cold and unmade, with a thin line of shallow twilight, not yet adored with subtle star light due to it being - . I glanced at the small copper clock on the desk I sat at; 8 o’clock. Through the small face of the glass was unpolished and rather grimy, I could still make out the time. It was early. The few cargo ships that brought imports to Erinsbourne’s harbour every other night wouldn’t arrive for about another two hours. That gave me some time. Yes, I could feel it; tonight was the night; there was a full moon suspended in the sky and there was a slight hint of something untraceable in the air. I had to pack. What do you bring for whatever this is? Dare one call it an adventure? Yes, one did dare- that one was me.

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