In the corner of the morning in the past
I would sit and blame the master first and last
All the roads were straight and narrow
And the prayers were small and yellow
And the rumor spread that I was aging fast
Then I ran across a monster who was sleeping by a tree
And I looked and frowned and the monster was me

The Width of A Circle – David Bowie

*****

It’s hard to believe, but I don’t think the stars are as bright as they used to be.  Long ago, when I was alive, I could look up into the sky and there they would be: shining and sparkling like tiny diamonds from millions of miles away.  But now the lights from the city have dulled their twinkle.  Everything is dull these days – age has decayed my once fair city into something beyond recognition.  It still grows, by leaps and bounds, but it seems dead.  Or maybe it’s just me.

Pasha once told me that vampires could age themselves at will.  Maybe my city has done the same?  If the dead can age, then why can’t a city?  I ponder this, and many other things as I while away the lonely hours of my existence.

My house above all is a house of the dead.  And not just because I myself am dead and still somehow ‘live’ there.  It’s full of dead dreams, dead hopes, dead things…

I had fled from my crypt-prison and found that the vacant lot that I had been watching wasn’t quite as empty as I had first thought.  Past the trees, in the shadow of the monstrous buildings of my dead city, lay a small house in disrepair.  I call that dilapidated cottage my home now.  The wood is rotted and the tiles are cracked and moldy… it’s not much, but it suits the dead just fine.

When I’m not contemplating the heavens on the lawn of my tumble-down shack, I still wander the streets looking for more of my own kind.  I haunt this city, watching the living and wondering if they know how dead their city is, because they don’t seem to notice.  I can smell the rot and decay, but to them I suppose it smells of liquor and sex.  The living are very much alive, and sometimes I think they are just living to spite me.

The only thing I like about the city is what the locals call the “old” library.  To me it is very new, but they have put it on a list with other old buildings that are to be preserved.  It was built in the 1930s, and is the oldest building in town.  Sadly, this means that my childhood home, my old school, the grandiose home of my childhood love, and all such places are no more.  When I first found the library, I was pleased – thinking that even in these times that people haven’t forgotten the joy that a good book can bring.  I went inside and was disappointed to find that the library was nothing more than another social club for the locals.

I had intended on finding some book to help me discover what had become of my family, the Beauforts.  After passing a group of teenagers writing curse words in the margins of the history books, two people making out in the reference section, and a young man using a large art book as a surface to roll an odd smelling cigarette, I decided to ask for some help.  I approached the one person who didn’t look like she was up to no good.

“Excuse me,” I began, “but do you think you can help me with something?”

“Sure,” she sighed.  “What do you need?”

“Well, I’m working on a… history project.  I need to look up some names of people who lived in this area at least sixty years ago.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry about looking in a book, not if you want information that old.  Your best bet would be the Internet.”

“The… inter… what?”

“Here,” she said, and sat me down at one of the loud humming machines that was sitting on the table.

“What do I do?” I asked as I looked up at her helplessly.

“Geez, we get all sorts in this town,” she muttered under her breath.  She reached over me and began pounding away at the lettered plaque that lay on the table in front of me.

“Names?” she asked.

“Uh, Beaufort.  That’s the family name.”

“Okay… nothing in the past 60 years.  I’ll just expand the search…” she said and her fingers flew over the letters.

“Here,” she said at last.  “Beaufort.  Last member of the family died in 1918.  Marguerite Anne Beaufort, age 73.  No husband, no children.”

She pointed to the text that hovered before my eyes.  Father had died in 1876 of a heart attack, Mother in 1893 (in her sleep – there’s no justice in this world), and Marguerite had died in 1918 after a long illness.  It listed that Julien went missing and presumed dead in 1872, and that I myself had “committed suicide” the following year.

“What if I wanted to know about someone else?” I asked.

The woman rolled her eyes and frowned at me.  “Do it your damn self, I’ve got somewhere to be.”

As she walked away I glared down at the letters in front of me.  The way they were arranged made the plaque look very much like a flat typewriter.  But the small hard thing next to the plaque was completely foreign to me.  I looked around and saw someone else sitting in front of one the machines, paying close attention to what he was doing. Emulating him, I put my hand on the small plastic thing and watched as a small arrow moved around on the picture in front of me.

“What is this, magic?!?” I cried.

Thankfully, the smoke from the young man’s funny smelling cigarette was quickly filling the first floor of the library, and while my words put many of the people into a fit of giggles, no one really seemed to notice what exactly I had said.

I gave up on researching the Dadians, and decided that what I needed was a good book to take home with me.  I passed over biographies, how-to books and romances.  Then I found something very interesting.  “The Great Big Book of Vampyres” the cover said.  Tucking the book under my arm, I fumbled my way through the smoky building and made my way back home.

I had hoped that the book would help me find out more about what I was: my powers, my weaknesses, and all things vampire.  I devoured its words hungrily, but discovered halfway through that it was nothing more than fiction.  Yes, I may not be able to survive standing directly under the sun, and I do have superhuman strength, but I have no aversion to the smell of garlic and crosses do not affect me.  In fact, I own a few crosses, and I was a devout Christian before I died (which I guess I’m not anymore… I think being ‘undead’ would be a conflict of interest).  I put the book on my poor excuse for a book shelf and I haven’t looked at it since.

While being dead has it advantages, it certainly comes with its share of disadvantages.  Loneliness is the big one.  I may have eternity to wander the night looking for victims, but when I went into this thing I wasn’t planning on being alone forever.  In fact, when I asked Pasha to change me, I kind of thought it would the perfect way to get a “happily ever after”.  We may not have “lived” but we would have been together.  I miss him terribly, and sometimes the night seems to stretch on forever in his absence.

But do the living care?  Hell, do they even notice?  No, they just go on living with their stupid heartbeats and pathetic pulses.  Sometimes I wonder if I’m invisible to them, or if they really do continue to breathe out of spite.  The lovers are the worst though.  But I always have special plans for them…

Nothing gives me satisfaction quite like taking the life of someone while their lover is watching.  I always torment the survivor with a bit of “Which will be worse for you?  Dying with her or knowing that you’ll have the rest of your miserable life to live without her?”  Of course, I never let them live.  Maybe that part of me is still human: I do believe knowing you have the rest of your life to live alone is the worser fate.  But it could just be the blood lust (it’s hard to stop yourself once you’ve started).  And wouldn’t it figure: after all these months of looking for others like me, other vampires, that I wouldn’t find them, but one would find me.  As I killed the girl and then her lover (who begged and pleaded for me to let him live – I guess their relationship wasn’t as strong as I had assumed), I had no clue that I was being watched.

I went back home and crawled into my casket just as the sun was beginning to rise.  I fell asleep unaware of the mist that crept down my basement stairs.

I continued to sleep and the mist began to solidify and take the form of a man.

“A casket, eh?  Well that’s old school…” the man chuckled to himself.

The man let go his conscience thought; his hopes, fears, all of his emotions.  He let them evaporate and turn to mist, and then he himself turned to mist, to await the sunset.

I rose from my casket and stretched.  I stepped out onto the cold stone floor and I caught movement from the corner of my eye.

“Who the hell are you?” I growled at the man who was lazily slumped upon my basement floor.  I brought my fingers to my lips but remembered quickly what had happened the last time I had resumed my habit of sucking my fingers and brought them back down.

“Now now, don’t be angry.  Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I just couldn’t help myself,” he laughed and sprang to his feet.

“You have no idea how much danger you’re in,” I said slowly.

“Oh, I think I do,” he smiled, and I gasped when I saw his sharp fangs catch the light.

“You’re a vampire,” I whispered.

“Yes, I am.  And I know that you are too.  My name is Roger, Roger Carmichael.  And you are…?”

“Very angry,” I growled and folded my arms across my chest.  Then I realized how that pulled down the front of my nightgown slightly and quickly dropped my hands to my sides.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll go upstairs while you get dressed if you like,” he said, averting his eyes.

“I’d very much like it if you were to leave,” I said, not really meaning my words.  Yes, I was angry that this person, this Roger Carmichael, had broken into my home while I slept.  But I had been searching for other vampires for so long…

“I’ll be dressed in a few minutes,” I told him.

“Okay!” he said with a smile and bounded up the stairs.

I threw on some clothes and undid my braid, letting my long hair fall onto my shoulders in loose waves.  I climbed the stairs and saw the man… Roger… looking around my living room.

“So what do you want?” I asked.

“I just wanted to talk,” he said.  “Man, this place is old.  And dark.  You live here?” he asked.

“No,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Oh… ha!  I get it.  I said live.  Sorry, it’s a habit.  I spend a lot of time around the living and I sometimes forget.  You stay here?  Is this your home?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, it’s my home.”

“Where did you come from?” Roger asked, turning towards me.

“Excuse me?”

“I thought I knew all the vampires in this town.  I don’t know you.”

“I’m somewhat new here.”

“Oh, I see.  Got run out of your last place?”

“Yes,” I said, “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, I noticed your handy work.  I thought I would introduce myself when you were done, but I didn’t get the chance.  You never did tell me your name by the way.”  He smiled again and reached out his hand.

I stared at it for a moment before taking it.

“Adelaide Beaufort,” I said.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Adelaide.  Do you mind if I turn on your lights?  It’s pretty dark in here.”

He walked over to one of the glass orbs attached to the wall and flipped a small switch I hadn’t noticed before.  Immediately light came from the orb and I screamed.

“Hey, what?” Roger asked, looking around quickly.

“How did you do that?!” I asked breathlessly.

He pointed to the glass orb.  “This?  You mean… you’ve never seen electricity before?”

“Elec…?”

“Electricity,” he laughed.  “Okay… wow.  So now I’ve got to ask, how long have you been a vampire Adelaide?”

“Since eighteen hundred and seventy two,” I answered.

“Wow, I don’t even think the Elders are that old.  Well, not all of them anyway.  Over a hundred years!  So if you’re that old, how do you not know about electricity?

“I was… sealed away.  By my ever loving family,” I answered with a smirk.

“Oh wow.  Sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want me to turn the rest of them on?”

“The light won’t hurt us?” I asked.

“No,” he laughed.  “It’s pretty safe.”

He went all around the room, flipping the small switches on all of the orbs.

“You want your fridge on too?” he asked.

“What is that?”

He pointed to the large box with doors that sat in the corner of my kitchen.  “Refrigerator,” he said, “you put food in it.  Which isn’t so much help for us, but it doesn’t hurt to keep up appearances.”  He pulled the… refrigerator… away from the wall and connected a long cord that came out from it into a small hole in the wall.  Immediately the refrigerator began to hum.

“Come here,” he said, smiling.

I opened the door and felt the cool air on my face, and marveled at the light that came from inside the fridge.

“It’s like a pantry,” I whispered.

Roger began to laugh.

“Yeah, that’s what it’s like.  Let me guess, you used to have something like this, but you had a block of ice in it to keep the food cold?”

“Yes!” I squealed.

“Well, close the door quick.  Whatever is in there stinks.  You really ought to think about cleaning this place up,” he said as he laughed some more and went to sit down at my kitchen table.

I joined him and he began to ask me all about my life before I was a vampire.  I gave him a brief summarization, not going into all of the painful details, and he seemed satisfied.

“How did you find this place?” he asked when I was finished.

I told him about how I had to leave the crypt, how I disposed of the gravedigger, and how I discovered my abandoned lot on of my many night walks.  I told him of how I had assumed the lot had no structures, and how pleasantly surprised I was to find the little run down shack I now call home.

“Where’d you get the furniture?” he asked, looking around.

“The dump mostly.  Some of it was here already.”

“Dumpster diving!  Awesome!” he chuckled.

“Not really,” I answered.  “My home before, while modest, was quite well kept.  A lot of this stuff is junk.”

“Well, yeah.  But you made it work.  What do you do for fun?”

“I don’t have fun.”

“Okay… let’s have some fun then.”

He stood up and pulled a small cloth ball from his pocket.

“You know how to play kicky bag?”

“What’s that?”

“Come here,” he said, a wicked smile on his face, “I’ll show you.”

We kicked the small bean-filled bag back and forth until the sky began to change colors over the horizon.

He looked out the window and turned to me with a smile.

“It’s getting early… I should go.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?  Turning on your lights?  That was nothing.”

“No… it’s just that… it’s been so long since I’ve had any one to talk to.  It was… fun.”

“Good!” he chuckled.  “I can come visit you again if you would like.”

I thought about it for a moment and then smiled.

“Yes,” I said.  “I would like that.”

“Alright then.  See you soon Adelaide,” he said as he left.

I watched him go down the steps of the front porch and I realized that I was still smiling.  I brought my fingers to my mouth and was unaware of the blood that ran down my chin as I had once again bitten my own finger.

I closed the door behind Roger and went downstairs to get ready for sleep.  I wasn’t quite as tired as most mornings.  I slipped into my coffin and just lay there for a while, thinking about how nice it was to have a friend again, before drifting off.

Roger did not return the next evening or for the rest of the week, and I didn’t really feel like going back out.  Instead I occupied my time by painting, which has become my replacement for music.  It took me several nights to finish the work, but when I was done I was quite pleased.

I hung the painting in one of my spare rooms.  I stared at Pasha’s beautiful face for a few minutes before pulling the engagement ring from the box I had stored it in.  I chose not to wear the ring anymore when I left the crypt, but only because it caused me so much pain to look at it.  But now that I’ve had more time to deal with his death, I find I enjoy looking at the ring, and remembering how wonderful it felt to be loved by him.  In this room, with the portrait and the ring, I feel most comfortable.  I feel… safe.

After almost a month after meeting Roger, I finally decided to take his advice and clean up some of the nastier parts of my house.  I pulled my hair back and put on some old clothes and began to scrub away at the years worth of dirt.  I was so lost in my thoughts (or maybe it was just the fumes of the cleaning products getting to me) that I didn’t even hear the knocking at the door.

“Adelaide!” Roger called.

I turned around and saw him and a blond woman standing in my doorway.

“Roger, sorry!” I said, and rushed over to greet them.

“This is Ivy Taylor, I hope you don’t mind that I brought her along.  We had made plans this evening but I also wanted to come see you.  Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, I’m finally cleaning up this dump,” I laughed.

“It is a dump!” the blond exclaimed.  “Roger, you didn’t tell me you were bringing me to a crack house.”

“What’s a cr-” I began to ask when Roger cut me off.

“Never mind Ivy.  She’s just pissed because I wanted to come see you.  Need some help?” he asked, rolling his eyes towards the snooty blond.

“That would be very nice, thanks,” I said.

Roger came over to me and whispered so that only I could hear him.

“She’s a live-un.  I hope it’s okay that I brought her.  I tried to get out of seeing her, but obviously it didn’t work.”  Then he smiled and when he spoke again his tone was lighter.  “Hang on sec.  I’ve got something for you.”

He dashed outside onto the porch and when he came back in he was holding a gift.

“For me?” I asked.

“Yep.  I figured you could do with a little more fun.  As well as more electronics.”

“Are those like elec…tri…city?” I asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

“Yeah, they run on it.  Go on, open it!”

I tore open the package and inside was a small rectangular black box.  It had a handle on top, and on one side of the rectangle, on either end, were hundreds of small holes.

“What is it?” I asked, holding the surprisingly light object in my hands.

“It’s a stereo.  Here,” he said reaching into his pockets, “I brought some batteries for it.  That way you won’t have to plug it in.  I noticed this place doesn’t have a lot of outlets.  I figured it would be best to save the outlets you do have for more important things.”

“You do realize that I have absolutely no idea what you just said, yes?” I asked smiling.

“Yeah,” he laughed.

He set the stereo on the table and opened up a panel on the back of it, in which he put the batteries.  Then he flipped a switch and music came blaring from it!

“Wow!  That’s incredible!” I exclaimed.  It was just like when I visited some of the clubs downtown – music seemed to be coming from everywhere and no where all at once.  It was wonderful.

“Let’s get cleaning,” laughed Roger.  He took off his shirt and glasses and threw them in a chair.  I’d never seen a grown man without a shirt on before, so it was a little difficult for me to look away at first (people just didn’t take their clothes off at the drop of a hat in my day).  But somehow I managed to do so.  Roger and I set about to scrubbing the counter tops and Ivy began dancing to the music that was coming from the stereo.

“She’s not going to be much help,” grumbled Roger under his breath.

When we were done scrubbing the counter tops, Roger offered to take out the trash.

“No,” I said, “I’ll get it.  I need some fresh air anyway.  These fumes are starting to get to me.”

“Alright,” he replied.

As I pulled the overflowing bag from the bin, Roger walked over to Ivy and they began to dance, smiling at each other stupidly.

“Geez,” I muttered to myself, “I can’t get away from it in my own stinking house.  Why did he bring her here anyway?  I don’t even know her… stupid blond snob.”

I continued to grumble and gripe this way all the way to the trashcan by the road.

I put away the garbage and stood by the hard street for a moment.  I breathed in the cool autumn air (yes, vampires breathe – we don’t need to, but old habits, you know) and felt the chill of the air against my skin.  I analyzed the feeling that had welled up inside of me, and realized that it could only be jealousy.  It was the same feeling I would get when Mother would comfort Julien in the night and yet let me cry alone in bed.  But why was I jealous I wondered.  Of course.  I considered Roger my friend.  And even though I didn’t know him that well, and we hadn’t even known each other for very long, I felt a connection between us.  Perhaps it’s because we’re both vampires, or maybe it was because I hadn’t had a friend in so long.  And now this person… Ivy… was here and I wasn’t getting the attention I wanted.  I stood for a moment, looking up into the sky, and felt a damn fool.

“I’m acting like a child,” I said to myself.  I vowed to not let my stupid jealous ways get the better of me and began walking back to the house.

But when I opened the door I couldn’t help but feel that green-eyed monster gnaw in my belly again.  Roger and Ivy were locked in a passionate embrace.  Just when I was about to look away, I caught the scent.

The scent of blood.

Roger looked up from the now limp Ivy, his lips and chin stained with crimson.

“You hungry?” he asked.

I let the blood lust overcome me.

“You know it,” I growled.

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13 Responses to “Chapter 1”


  1. 1 Kate
    9 September 2008 at 7:58 pm

    Wow! I can’t wait for the next part! This is a great story… you do a wonderful job 😀 Keep writing!

  2. 3 Anissa
    18 October 2008 at 9:59 am

    I literally cried when she dreamed about Pasha. I wish he wasn’t dead. I miss him. Eeek, don’t fall in love with another man! >(

  3. 21 October 2008 at 3:48 am

    Aww! I’m touched! *hands tissue* There, there. 🙂

  4. 13 March 2009 at 1:49 am

    “OH MY GOD! Look at that chicken! It’s playing checkers!”

    ROFL! Oh dear, I love Adelaide! She’s too cute with her alternate finger biting and horrible blood lust for delivery men.

    • 13 March 2009 at 2:48 am

      LOL I love her too (obviously). Is it weird that sometimes when Sims watch movies or television, I pull the camera around and watch it with them? Man, that pizza commercial makes me hungry sometimes! *ding* “Ah be zha zha!”

      Addie does love some delivery men, I can tell you that. If she were a Romance Sim, I’d probably have her woo-hoo them and then kill them!

  5. 13 March 2009 at 9:58 am

    I’m going to have to say that no, that’s not weird. Because when sims watch TV, I usually end up watching their faces. LOL.

    • 13 March 2009 at 5:53 pm

      LOL I like to watch their faces while they eat! I don’t know why. I don’t mean when they’re chewing their food, but rather when they are talking while they are eating. Sims make some great faces at the table! XD

  6. 13 April 2009 at 1:22 am

    The dream scene was beautifully epic; I was on pins and needles when he entered her “safe” room – and all the cute moments when she is introduced to the modern world! I’m so in love with your story and your way of writing right now. I know its silly, but I wish there was a really long book version that I could curl up in bed with. I could totally see myself cooing with happiness if I could spend the next 600 pages or so falling in love with the world and characters you’ve built.

    • 15 April 2009 at 11:26 pm

      Aww, thanks! I hope you weren’t spoiled too much by the things I’ve said in your “How do you handle death?” thread (if you read my reply) over at Boolprop. I saw that thread the day you posted it but agonized over whether or not I should reply. I don’t usually participate in the legacy discussion threads (I would just end up giving away all of my upcoming plot details and then who would want to read the actual story?) so you should feel special! 😀

      Also, I’m glad you enjoyed my pitiful attempts to add humor to the story – I’m always afraid that the darkness of the plot will weigh down the story so much that no one will want to read it. 🙂

  7. 11 Wonders..WTF..hehheh
    27 July 2009 at 12:56 pm

    Ehh..I don’t get why they had to turn into mist..*feels shakey* I mean it was so cute..when she woke up I thought some kinda a freak show was gonna happen..then when she sees herself in the mirror..oh seriously,what in the world!?..as in when it gone away.kayz now it makes some since..making her walk out made me think she lost her fangs or whatever…but then the next picture..ehh I see her fangs (; .What was most surpiseing that was..Pasha was standing there..I mean I read the prologue..and it pretty much surpised me also :3 .The whole dream made me have quiet some emotions..at first I felt like what the heck is going on..(curiosoty over comes me proberly every time)..then when I see Pasha there…(ehhh I was about to cry)..then when BAM the mist..(ROGER WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING!?)…ehhh kayz so that wasn’t Roger..but anyways..GREAT PREDICTION 🙂 .Ehh when Adelaide got into the mist I literly cried because I thought she was gonne die -.- .Anyways..in other words I am touched by this *random appluse* ….
    *cries alittle* oh god help me!..I have to agree with TheLunarFox …ehh her ever lasting taste for dilivering men and also her cute finger biting prosses 😀

  8. 12 Wonders..WTF..hehheh
    27 July 2009 at 1:00 pm

    ..HOW CAN I FORGET!?..I love this story sooo much..THANK YOU LADIE!!! *claps loudly* umm…I think I made someone lose their hearing..*gets emberessed* hehheh 😀

  9. 20 October 2010 at 8:53 pm

    Yeah, I would love to curl up with a book with your story too…


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Sim Goddess



Welcome to my blog! My name is Robin and I have been playing The Sims 2 since it was first released (September 13 2004 - technically it came out on the 14, but I had preordered it from EB Games so I got it a day early). Before that, I had been playing original Sims game since... 2000? 2001? I'm not quite sure, but I do remember having to wait for Hot Date to be released. So yeah, I've been playing Sims for years.

This blog, Shadows and Blood, is the home of my legacy (and sometimes some real life stuff too). What is a legacy? Oh, just look at my "Site-ations" list and you'll find a link. I don't have a link to the official site because it fails and I am against it (hence putting my story here, rather than on my Simpage).

So yeah, sit back and read my story. Tell me what you think (unless you think it blows - in that case, don't let the browser hit you in the ass on the way out... jk) or just stop by and say hello. Unlike my Sims, I don't bite.

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This site is not endorsed by or affiliated with Electronic Arts, or its licensers. Trademarks are the property of their respective owners. Game content and materials copyright Electronic Arts Inc. and its licensers. All Rights Reserved.

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