The Vampire's Unforgotten Story

This is a snippet to my story that I am writing, but I have been working on this for so long, and I'm really proud of it. It is about a vampire who is recounting the stories of his life, to a reporter but she gets a different story than her father did.

• Horror
• Fiction

								
6 ’The nature of my transformation’’ 
Damien’s POV 
I looked down, my mind replaying the events that had transpired in my life. It was hard to believe that such a horrific ordeal could be considered a masterpiece of events. But sometimes, beauty could be found in the most twisted and dark of things. I remembered that night like it was yesterday. The smell of death, the taste of blood, the sound of my screams echoing through the empty halls of my home. A cruel smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I spoke. 
         “Yes,” I said, my voice low. “A masterpiece of events indeed, one to which artists would call the very same.” I paused, “So let me pick up where I left off from our previous interview.” I said to Hayley, and she nodded her eyes were fixed on me, her expression a mix of fascination and intrigue. 
     “I’m ready,” she said, her voice steady. “Please, continue.” 
           “So after it was found out in the area that my father had died there was no funeral to bury him because I burned him. But they held a ceremony.” I took a deep breath, the memories of that day still fresh in my mind. The ceremony had been a blur, but I could still recall the looks of shock and sympathy on the faces of the attendees. “The ceremony,” I said, my tone distant.     “It was… surreal. Everyone had come to pay their respects, but how could they, knowing what had really happened.” 
           “And what about Nikolai, did you see him after the incident seeing as he had a massive play in your father’s death.”Hayley asked me. 
Nikolai. A shudder ran down my spine at the mention of his name. The mere thought of him still filled me with a deep, burning hatred. I nodded, my fingers clenching the fabric of my trousers. “Oh, I saw him,” I gritted out. “He was there at the ceremony, pretending to grieve as if nothing was amiss.” I paused, and thought back to the night that Nikolai's voice had made me commit the murder of my father. “I didn’t want to look at Nikolia’s face, to hear his voice. The memory of that night, of his words echoing in my head, still haunted me. “Yes,” I said. “Besides, I had more pressing matters to attend to. With my father gone, the responsibility of taking over his business fell to me.” 
               “And how did that go?” Hayley asked me, I thought about the responsibility, the way it suddenly fell on my shoulders. It was a lot for a young man to bear, but I knew I would have to find a way. I chuckled grimly. “Taking over my father’s business, his legacy… it was a lot to handle. But I had no choice but to step up, to fill the vacuum he left behind.” 
“I was thirty and had spent the past twelve years establishing myself in the business world. I had become a harder man, more cynical and less naive than I was at eighteen. Despite my success, I still faced prejudice because of my race, just like my father before me. I had learned to deal with it, to use it to my advantage in my negotiations. “Being a black business man wasn’t always easy,” I said out loud, scoffing at the memory of discrimination I had faced. “But I learned to thrive in spite of it.” I then smiled softly as I thought about my sister, knowing she had found happiness in her new marriage. “My sister,” I said quietly, “I made sure she was taken care of after my father’s death. I knew her old husband hadn’t treated her well, so I set her up with a new man, one who would treat her well as she deserved. And he did, thankfully. They’ve been together for twelve years now, and she was the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”  
My smile widened as I thought about my nephew and niece. “They had children,” I said, a hint of pride in my voice. “A boy and a girl. My nephew and niece. They’re both well-behaved and cute as buttons. My sister dotes on them like any good mother, and it warms my heart to see her happy and fulfilled.” I sighed, a frown tugging at my lips as I recalled the persistent presence of my father’s ghost. 
            “My father’s ghost,” I said, my voice gruff. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. No matter where I went or what I did, his spector hovered over me, haunting my every move.” I closed my eyes, remembering a specific moment at my sister’s house. It was almost like I was transported back to that time again. “There was once a time,” I said, my voice quiet, “when I was at my sister’s home. I was in her backyard, sitting on the patio, when I suddenly felt my father’s presence again.” I nodded, recalling the peaceful scene. “We were sitting together on the patio, talking.” I recounted. “My sister, her husband, myself, my nephew and my niece. The kids were playing on the lawn, blissfully unaware of anything but their own fun.” 
            “You should think about getting married.” “My sister said to me, as I watched them playing on the grass, unaware that my sister and her husband were speaking to me. My sister’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts as she spoke. I turned my gaze to her, my expression impassive.
           “Married?” “I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Why would you suggest such a thing?” “I felt a sudden shiver down my spine, as I heard my father’s ghost whisper in my ear, his words harsh and biting.” 
              “A terrible husband,” the ghost cackled. “Just look at you.” “I gritted my teeth, shaking my head slightly to try and ignore the spectre’s taunts.” I gave my sister a half smile, managing to reply to her question despite the ghost’s jabs. “I don’t plan on getting married,” I told her. “With my business and everything else going on, I simply don’t have the time or energy for a relationship. Besides, your kids are enough to satisfy my paternal instincts.” “She nodded, and then she started to see her kids fighting and my sister started to get up to intervene between her kids, but I gestured for her to stay seated.” 
           “I’ll handle it,” I assured her. “They always listen to me better anyway.” “I made my way over to them, separating them gently. “Why are you two fighting?” The kids looked up at me, still pouting and scowling at each other as they stared at each other. 
             “She started it.” “my nephew said, pointing at his sister.” “She took my toy.” 
                                 “I did not!” my niece protested, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s lying, Uncle Damien. It’s his fault.” “I picked up the toy, feeling the soft fabric of the bunny under my fingertips. My mind was suddenly flooded with memories of my own childhood, of my father’s stern voice and the feeling of dread accompanied it. I swallowed, trying to push those memories aside, but they lingered in the back of my mind like a dark cloud.” “I gritted my teeth as I heard my father’s ghost whisper in my ear, telling me to punish my niece and nephew with a belt like he had done to me.” 
                                             “No,” I said firmly, shaking my head.” “I would never harm them. They don’t deserve that kind of pain.” “I froze, realising that I had spoken aloud. The kids were both staring up at me with wide eyes, their fights forgotten as they heard my words. I cleared my throat, hoping they didn’t understand the full meaning of what I had said. 

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