Chastity Maundrell
Apr 20th, 2004, 09:15:14 PM
I didn't always hold such disdain for the living. Time does things to a person's mind, though. Time - events - boredom. These things all take their toll on one's mind; especially when one has a long lifespan. Such as myself. I have seen two and a half millenia pass and I have yet to see or experience anything different, I mean truly different. Wars break out, killings go on, crime gets worse and worse, governments form and fall - the rich get richer and the poor get destitute - oh, and they get poorer. Of course, you already knew that.
Though I have lived ( ha, lived; there's an irony in that word which I am sure you will discover here shortly) for many, many years, I can honestly say that I do not know what it means to truly live.
When I was a child, perhaps around the age of seven years, I asked my mother to tell me the story of how I was brought into this world. Now, most mothers would get all aglow in their cheeks, their eyes would light up and mist over and they'd gush on and on about how special the child is to them; how love created the child and all that other crap.
Did my mother do that? Lord no! To say that my mother was certifiable is an understatement. Certifiable or not, the least she could have done was to lie and tell me that I was created out of love!
I am what's known to many as being doubly cursed. Born out of wedlock, not too mention that I was the seventh female child (yes, I have - er, had - six sisters). Being that my mother is certifiable, she also believed in all of the superstitions known to man. I bet she even made some up because I certainly had never heard of some of the folklore she would rattle off to me and my sisters.
Yes, she use to tell us horrible tales of witches, goblins and ghouls in lieu of fairy tales sporting handsome fearless Prince's who come to the rescue of beautiful blond maidens locked away in the tower of their castle.
According to the folklore told by my mother, the seventh child of the same sex is doomed to become a vampire. Also, if a child is born out of wedlock, that child is doomed to become a vampire. Because my mother couldn't keep her legs closed, I get cursed to suffer a fate far worse than the most horrific death imaginable.
As I have had ages to dwell on the past - my past - I have come to certain conclusions. I believe the most important to top my list is this: there is no hope for humanity. Humanity is doomed. Always has been, always will be. The more I witness, I think deep down inside I am blessed to not be considered amongst those who dare to call themselves human.
When I was around the age of fifteen - I am currently .....
Well ... I am old. That will have to suffice and quell your curious mind because to be quite honest with you, dear reader ... too many years have passed and I have quit counting. So much time has passed and far too slowly that I no longer remember the day of my birth - or what year it was.
Back to my tale ... My mother was removed from the store we use to go buy our food from when she tried to strip me naked and perform her own version of a baptism right there in the middle of the vegetable aisle! The authorities were called, mother was taken away and my sisters and I were placed in orphanages until families could be found to take care of us.
Why she didn't have me baptised at birth is a question that never arose. In fact, it was never spoken of in our home. Needless to say, I was the only one out of us seven kids who remained in the orphanage until reaching the age of seventeen. That's when they declared me an adult and tossed me out into the street.
Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself. Allow me, dear reader, to backtrack a few paces.
Let's see, let's see... Oh yes! School. Boy, school was so much fun! NOT! I was known as a confrontational child. If I wasn't arguing with someone or goading them into a fight, I was busy causing trouble between others. I never understood why I behaved this way and neither did my mother. She just passed it off as my being a bad girl.
I never did have any friends. Am I disappointed? No, not in the least. After seeing the way humans treat each other?? I count on myself and myself only! I am certain I am not going to screw myself over, steal from myself, or harm myself; unlike what others in the galaxy do to each other.
I was taken to several doctors over the years who tested, poked, prodded, stabbed with needles, examined my brain and etc, etc. One would say, 'There's no need to worry Mrs. Maundrell, she's just a hyper-active child. I'll write her a prescription and she'll be good as new. A perfect angel!' Another would say, 'She has some rare condition which I cannot pronounce! Ha ha ha ha! But no need to worry - with the proper guidance and medications, she'll be fine.'
Over the years, my eyesight seemed to get worse and worse. Light would make them hurt - bright light, mind you. The soft glow of candles or low watt bulbs really didn't bother them. Of course, keeping my shades drawn, my doors closed and my bedroom in near total darkness didn't help dispell any of the stories around town or in school about me or my family.
I apologize, dear reader - again, I am jumping around from topic to topic here. Allow me to get back on track.
Am I a vampire, you ask? Of course I am!
Do I vant to suck your blood??
Don't be ridiculous! I am not a blood drinker and the idea of one doing as such disgusts me! Makes me ill to my stomach.
Do I want to seduce men? Please. If I wanted to do that, trust me, I do not need to use any 'vampiric' means to succeed. The thought of seducing a man is almost as disgusting as the thought of ingesting blood. On second thought, I think that those two things tie in at first.
What sustains me, you wonder?
Well, that's a little hard to explain so I'll give you the basics of it.
Almost everything uses and gives off energy. In sentient things, this energy is referred to as ones life force. It is that life force which sustains me. It is why I was always confrontational as a child. It is why I am able to have survived for as many ages as I have. The negetive energies, or life force if you will, exuded by those among the living far exceed the 'positive' energies in the galaxy.
Can I enter a church, you ponder?
Of course I can! Will I? Not even if my life - or yours - depended on it! I have been to a place of worship on several occasions, mind you. I thought that the life energies radiated by a man - or woman - of the cloth would taste sinfully sweet! How wrong I was!
Because of their hypocracies and the fact that the majority of them truly did not have faith, their life energies were what I will call 'tainted'. The energies of a lunatic, drug crazed, alcholic are more pure than those belonging to beings of the cloth.
I have been called "Haunt of the Vile" in some regions of the galaxy. Why? I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps it is because those of the living have this need to label things, and giving creatures such as myself - a creature they know nothing about aside from what they are told or read about in mythological tales - they must give me a name that induces fear.
I have been described as being a vile, foul, filthy and greedy creature. I admit, at first this use to enrage me. However, over time, I find that I now laugh at this description.
Why?
Simple, dear reader. Those same adjectives used to describe me are the very same adjectives humans use to describe themselves. They are no better than I, yet they believe themselves to be above the likes of me.
So you see, I am ...
Just .... like ... you.
Now, my dear reader, I must bid you a fond farewell. This is the first of my tale and my tale is one to behold. I do hope you will return time and time again to venture further into the madness of my own mind.
Though I have lived ( ha, lived; there's an irony in that word which I am sure you will discover here shortly) for many, many years, I can honestly say that I do not know what it means to truly live.
When I was a child, perhaps around the age of seven years, I asked my mother to tell me the story of how I was brought into this world. Now, most mothers would get all aglow in their cheeks, their eyes would light up and mist over and they'd gush on and on about how special the child is to them; how love created the child and all that other crap.
Did my mother do that? Lord no! To say that my mother was certifiable is an understatement. Certifiable or not, the least she could have done was to lie and tell me that I was created out of love!
I am what's known to many as being doubly cursed. Born out of wedlock, not too mention that I was the seventh female child (yes, I have - er, had - six sisters). Being that my mother is certifiable, she also believed in all of the superstitions known to man. I bet she even made some up because I certainly had never heard of some of the folklore she would rattle off to me and my sisters.
Yes, she use to tell us horrible tales of witches, goblins and ghouls in lieu of fairy tales sporting handsome fearless Prince's who come to the rescue of beautiful blond maidens locked away in the tower of their castle.
According to the folklore told by my mother, the seventh child of the same sex is doomed to become a vampire. Also, if a child is born out of wedlock, that child is doomed to become a vampire. Because my mother couldn't keep her legs closed, I get cursed to suffer a fate far worse than the most horrific death imaginable.
As I have had ages to dwell on the past - my past - I have come to certain conclusions. I believe the most important to top my list is this: there is no hope for humanity. Humanity is doomed. Always has been, always will be. The more I witness, I think deep down inside I am blessed to not be considered amongst those who dare to call themselves human.
When I was around the age of fifteen - I am currently .....
Well ... I am old. That will have to suffice and quell your curious mind because to be quite honest with you, dear reader ... too many years have passed and I have quit counting. So much time has passed and far too slowly that I no longer remember the day of my birth - or what year it was.
Back to my tale ... My mother was removed from the store we use to go buy our food from when she tried to strip me naked and perform her own version of a baptism right there in the middle of the vegetable aisle! The authorities were called, mother was taken away and my sisters and I were placed in orphanages until families could be found to take care of us.
Why she didn't have me baptised at birth is a question that never arose. In fact, it was never spoken of in our home. Needless to say, I was the only one out of us seven kids who remained in the orphanage until reaching the age of seventeen. That's when they declared me an adult and tossed me out into the street.
Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself. Allow me, dear reader, to backtrack a few paces.
Let's see, let's see... Oh yes! School. Boy, school was so much fun! NOT! I was known as a confrontational child. If I wasn't arguing with someone or goading them into a fight, I was busy causing trouble between others. I never understood why I behaved this way and neither did my mother. She just passed it off as my being a bad girl.
I never did have any friends. Am I disappointed? No, not in the least. After seeing the way humans treat each other?? I count on myself and myself only! I am certain I am not going to screw myself over, steal from myself, or harm myself; unlike what others in the galaxy do to each other.
I was taken to several doctors over the years who tested, poked, prodded, stabbed with needles, examined my brain and etc, etc. One would say, 'There's no need to worry Mrs. Maundrell, she's just a hyper-active child. I'll write her a prescription and she'll be good as new. A perfect angel!' Another would say, 'She has some rare condition which I cannot pronounce! Ha ha ha ha! But no need to worry - with the proper guidance and medications, she'll be fine.'
Over the years, my eyesight seemed to get worse and worse. Light would make them hurt - bright light, mind you. The soft glow of candles or low watt bulbs really didn't bother them. Of course, keeping my shades drawn, my doors closed and my bedroom in near total darkness didn't help dispell any of the stories around town or in school about me or my family.
I apologize, dear reader - again, I am jumping around from topic to topic here. Allow me to get back on track.
Am I a vampire, you ask? Of course I am!
Do I vant to suck your blood??
Don't be ridiculous! I am not a blood drinker and the idea of one doing as such disgusts me! Makes me ill to my stomach.
Do I want to seduce men? Please. If I wanted to do that, trust me, I do not need to use any 'vampiric' means to succeed. The thought of seducing a man is almost as disgusting as the thought of ingesting blood. On second thought, I think that those two things tie in at first.
What sustains me, you wonder?
Well, that's a little hard to explain so I'll give you the basics of it.
Almost everything uses and gives off energy. In sentient things, this energy is referred to as ones life force. It is that life force which sustains me. It is why I was always confrontational as a child. It is why I am able to have survived for as many ages as I have. The negetive energies, or life force if you will, exuded by those among the living far exceed the 'positive' energies in the galaxy.
Can I enter a church, you ponder?
Of course I can! Will I? Not even if my life - or yours - depended on it! I have been to a place of worship on several occasions, mind you. I thought that the life energies radiated by a man - or woman - of the cloth would taste sinfully sweet! How wrong I was!
Because of their hypocracies and the fact that the majority of them truly did not have faith, their life energies were what I will call 'tainted'. The energies of a lunatic, drug crazed, alcholic are more pure than those belonging to beings of the cloth.
I have been called "Haunt of the Vile" in some regions of the galaxy. Why? I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps it is because those of the living have this need to label things, and giving creatures such as myself - a creature they know nothing about aside from what they are told or read about in mythological tales - they must give me a name that induces fear.
I have been described as being a vile, foul, filthy and greedy creature. I admit, at first this use to enrage me. However, over time, I find that I now laugh at this description.
Why?
Simple, dear reader. Those same adjectives used to describe me are the very same adjectives humans use to describe themselves. They are no better than I, yet they believe themselves to be above the likes of me.
So you see, I am ...
Just .... like ... you.
Now, my dear reader, I must bid you a fond farewell. This is the first of my tale and my tale is one to behold. I do hope you will return time and time again to venture further into the madness of my own mind.