You look down at this creature of the night, now almost pitiful in his plight.
Not that you are in a position to throw stones. You too are a vampire, and this creature is the one who made you; he granted you immortality at the point of his fangs. Not long ago, he made you like him, condemning you to this living death—your heart is still, your lungs have atrophied—and yet you still hunger.
He reaches towards you, calling your name…
I rush to his rescue!
I flee into the swamp!
I burn him to ashes!
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