Evanescere: Origins by Vanessa Buckingham

think
you would fair?” He explained.
    “So what you are saying is that in a sense they
suffered from cultural shock and decided to remain where they felt most at
home,” I replied glad to know I was on the right track.
    “Exactly,” he exclaimed.
    I noticed the hour and realized the pubs would be
closing soon. We start walking back toward “civilization,” and little by little
the crowds began to thicken on the sidewalks. I noticed many could barely stand
victims of their heavy drink. It is time to go. Humans are not supposed to stay
out all night without sleep. It would seem strange if we stayed out all night.
I honestly did not care, I wanted to go out and continue exploring this new
world.
    We hail a taxi and make the journey back to the
hotel, feigning sleep and exhaustion. Actually another perk if you would call
it that, is that we don’t sleep, no snack breaks, unless you count feeding
every once in a while, and no bathroom breaks. With all the time that I have at
my disposal, I tend to get creative. Jack enjoys the fact that I stay busy. Being
busy keeps me from having too much time to think about other things. I could
not stop from thinking, wishing that Axel and my children could be here with
me. Instead I am here without them. I push the thought aside before I give into
to that emotion.  
    Our stay in London was
short lived by my standards. But I made good use of what little time we spent
here. Unbeknownst to Jack I began to make frequent runs to the sewers. I was
curious of the old ones and fascinated by them at the same time. Sometimes I
would lose track of time before I would realize the sun was rising outside. My
time with the old ones is one that I would cherish.  
    I am not exactly sure what
it was that Jack did these days. I know he would go out and return before the
sun rose. I asked him one day and he just told me he was working on business. I
was not sure what kind of business he had to attend to. I imagine being alive
this long his business ventures were many. So I spent a lot of time alone these
days. Being alone is something I am not used to. I tend to get bored easily
which is how I began to find myself in the London sewers just about every day.
The old ones came to trust me. I was amazed by them and it appeared that they
too enjoyed my company. Every so often I would come across someone with evil
intentions and I would carry them away to the old ones. I would give them a
proper meal, a sort of break from the rats that overwhelmed the sewers. They
appeared to enjoy this kindness.
    Although they never left
the sewers, they did their hunting in the underground labyrinth of the sewers. Their
diet consisted primarily of giant sewer rats that even I found deplorable. As
much as I detested the taste of human blood, I hated rats even more. On one of
my visits they offered me one the size of a house cat and out of respect to the
old one’s I drank it. I hid the disgust from showing on my face. The more time
I spent in London’s sewers the easier it became for me. Having some type of
companionship was something I craved. I loved hearing the histories of the old
ones.
    There was Pullo, an old
Roman Gladiator, was turned by a vampire masquerading as a Roman noblewoman.
She had risked her own life to save his in the arena and in so doing revealed
her true self. She fled with him to Britannica, else the Roman Emperor should
himself seek her out to destroy her.
    Then there was Lucius, he
was one of the Roman Senators and one of Caesar’s conspirators. Lucius
basically sold his sold in exchange for immortality. You can guess what his job
was. I was enchanted with Lucius’ tale of revenge and murder. To meet someone
who had helped to facilitate the murder of one of Rome’s greatest men was
beyond belief.
    Leta, was a young woman,
a Viking by her short golden hair. Her heavy accent made it difficult to
understand her story, partly because her tongue was cut out of her in battle.
Leta preferred to dress