Wednesday, August 7, 2013


My vampire guide and erstwhile opponent looked at me and said - Now do you understand? The child never died. The nursemaid was not negligent. The woman did no wrong. She was waylaid by 'familiars,' vampire helpers hunting food for a lazy master. And she did put up a fight. Indeed, they blinded her in one eye and would have put out the other if the hounds had not arrived. Huge mastiffs they are. Bred by the infantry to rip open the guts, the genitals...anywhere. And they chased the loathsome familiars out across the fields, lacerating their weak, flabby buttocks in the process. But the baby was gone and Clan Romila was afraid. Canes belli ate the baby! Canes belli ate the baby! - she went on. But the only war dogs there that day were ours... and they eat other things.

We offered money. We offered plenty... a first tier box at the Coliseum. A month by the seaside in a villa recently purchased from some spurned imperial doxy. Good luck charms wrought by the hands of a top 'cassandra.' But your mortals would have none of it. And so the fight began. A killing here. A killing there. Geld a first cousin. Cripple some old, bastard uncle whose name I forget. Disgusting... truly disgusting. 

And now they sent you. But I'm tired. I don't want to do this anymore. So I did it. I showed you. You see him. You know. That other life-eater did not kill him. I can't tell you why, but he didn't. And so he sits here in the dark, contentedly drawing blood from other babies. Rome has a plethora of unwanted sucklings. Mama sows part with them quickly enough. A few coppers. Perhaps a bottle of scent. That's all it takes. Life by the river is tough. Thank Jove we're here in the heights. Do you know how my vampire nose would suffer in the miasma down there? Vampire, please! I'd vomit on a regular basis. These babies come from Shitsville. They'd die there just the same.

So go. Run and tell your master that the Nesso Baby lives. Well, after a fashion he does. Tell him what he is. Tell him what he does. See if they want him back. We found him, or rather he was left with us. And we provide the succor. 

Look how he gurgles. Look how he chews that leg. You know, 'cherubs' rarely kill a victim outright. They gnaw and they drink and they babble. Quite cute in their own way. No teeth. They have no teeth. Do it all with a sharp tipped tongue. A little, callused point they have. Twirl it around like a drill. And the poor, tiny urchins really suffer very little, for we drug them first. After all, we are not monsters.

Soon I'll take them out and end it in the fish ponds. That's why our crabs are so sweet... or so they tell me. 

But I took a tiny chain from off the 'cherub's' ankle... a talisman left by some long dead Nesso kinsman, and kept it with me when I left that place. 

The truth, as it is, troubles me. And I'm afraid to tell the master, for I've never failed him yet.

A vampire's nights are quite complex. Though I did kill two souls on my way addle brained tramp and a waylaid sailor. The blood lust is quite simple. And I needed to forget.

Perhaps I'll say a prayer for those ruined babies, if I knew just what to say...
(more next time)
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