Confessions... -open-

[† Darron Simons]

Even in madness I know you still believe
Paint me on canvas so I become,
What you could never be...

A harsh wind blew through the trees, wrapping the earth in her cold embrace. The night was young, an hour before midnight and the vampire was only getting stronger. This vampire known to most as, Darron. He was born hundreds of years ago, but he adapted well. Wearing dark blue jeans, black biker boots, white t-shirt, and a heavy blue jean jacket. A St. Christopher's coin around his neck dangling on a gold chain. It was a beautiful night tonight, no moon, just stars. Everything dark and sinister. Even the Church looked like an unholy place at this time of night.

Darron walked pass his grave with nothing but a glance. His hand ran over the headstone briefly before continuing on toward the Church. There was no real reason behind his reasoning to go to the Church. He was a creature of the d.amned, God has long forgotten about him. Darron was sure God hated him, so, he hated him back. It always worked for Darron. He stopped to look at the holy ground before stepping onto it. It was dark, yes, but a single candlelight was shinning in one of stain glass windows. Darron grinned and stepped into the Church quietly.

It was a large room indeed. Darron had been in here before. His hand ran over the seats as he walked closer to the altar, who had a Reverend behind it. Darron approached before the man finally realized someone was there. It was a young Reverend as well, he looked to be in his twenties. "Oh, hello sir, come to confess?" The Reverend spoke to Darron, he merely grinned. "Yes father, I'm here to confess..." He hissed, looking at the Reverend with fake pleading eyes. The Reverend motioned for him to sit, he did so. The Reverend looked at him expectantly. Darron started...

"Well, I've lied, cheated, stolen, raped... I even bore out a mans heart with a knife, and sewed his mouth shut with a dull needle..." Darron told the Reverend, watching him turn pale. "Does that make me a bad person?" Darron asked, fangs growing out, his voice morphing into something deeper and unearthly. The Reverend opened his mouth to speak, all he got out was 'christo', that's God in Latin... Darron cringed and pressed his hand to the reverend's mouth. The Reverend raised a cross to him, Darron watched it, panting. Nothing happened, Darron grinned at the helpless man. "You have to believe in it for it to work, dumbass!" He hissed, his head lashing down, fangs sinking into the mans neck, draining him of his blood.

After Darron was through with him, he ripped out his throat to ensure no survival. He let the lifeless body slip down his arm and hit the floor with a thud. Darron licked the blood from his lips, blood stains now were forming on his white t-shirt. He looked down at the body, an evil grin on his lips. "I'm glad I got that off my chest Reverend, I'm a changed man." Sarcasm dripped from his words like blood from a wound. Darron then turned, beginning to walk toward the altar again. Candles burned on it. Wouldn't want this place to catch fire, would we? He thought in his mind sarcastically. He put his lips near to the flame and blew it out. The church grew dark...

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