Light

Light, it been ages since he seen it, really seen it for what it was hope. A promise of a new day. He would fall into slumber soon, smoke raised off him and he steeped back from the curtain. Turning to the door he latched it 2 dead bolts and a chain. Walking though the house he moved to his basement door. The beast within required slumber and he would not be awake much longer.

Though the door of the basement and that solid door is latched. Time was growing short. So very short, He made it to the bed coffins were the movies the reality was though he been dead well over two hundred years he he feared the light, the new day, it was as if he died again each night. Laython laid down, his eyes closed and nothing.

When his eyes opened again the darkness had returned, Blood he yearned for blood, The light it wasn't hope it was a reminder that he was damned to walk the earth a vampire and why he did his beast to live with honor in the end he would take blood from some one tonight their very life essences and this would repeat again and again. Light the force that dammed him. The morning would come again and things needed to be done.

Out the door he went into the night of new possibility and the monotony that two centuries of unlife brought. Light who needs it.


Word count 247