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After a mile or so he paused, catching the scent of a human nearby. His hunting instincts kicked in and he slipped behind a boulder, using his other senses to pinpoint his prey. Male, blood type B+. 300 meters ahead and approaching. Sebastian licked his lips and his throat burned in anticipation. All he had to do was wait.

The closer the man got, the jumpier the vampire felt. Hecoulduse his speed to catch the hiker even if he had to chase, but too much adrenaline in the blood gave him the jitters. Not to mention it tasted bitter. He much preferred to sneak up from behind and deliver a quick dose of the venom which would put his prey to sleep long enough for him to feed.

Finally, his prey appeared out of the darkness. He was a fit young man, probably in his early 20’s. He wore shorts and running shoes, with his shirt tied around his waist. Sebastian waited until the man had passed him by a few paces before slipping out from behind the rock.

The vampire’s footsteps were silent. He matched his prey’s pace for a few steps before speeding up to a half-step behind. In one fluid motion, Sebastian grabbed the man’s shoulders and sunk his teeth into the man’s neck, injecting his venom directly into the jugular vein. It took only moments for the man to go limp in his grasp.

As soon as the man slumped to the ground, Sebastian dropped to one knee and began to feed. The metallic liquid streamed through his hollow fangs and into the vampire’s circulatory system, filling him with warmth and strength. He drank his fill and licked the wound, which immediately sealed over.

“Sorry about that, lad,” he murmured as he stood and brushed the dust from his knee. “You’ll be fine! Just a bout of anemia, nothing to worry about.” Sebastian arranged the man in what he hoped would be a comfortable position for him to sleep off the venom and continued down the trail toward Corniglia, feeling considerably better.

CHAPTER6

Vernazza, Italy. 16 August, 2006

16 August, 2006

Dear Isabel,

I must admit I had nearly given up hearing from you when your letter arrived. It appears that patience is not a skill I have developed despite my ever-increasing age. I am glad to hear that you made it back safely, despite the extended vacation of your luggage. Hopefully by the time this letter reaches you, you will have been long since reunited with your unimportant belongings.

This friend of yours deserves my appreciation, as I most certainly did want you to write. Tell me more about her? And there’s no need to think of us as strangers. I would prefer that you think of me as at least a friend-to-be. A friend would be even more ideal.

I have not heard of this ‘Google.’ Is it a type of map with pictures? Perhaps I should purchase one of your region so I can see where you live, as well. As for this castle, it has been in my family for centuries. Ever since it was built, actually. Once it was lively and bustling, but as I am the last of my lineage, it has sadly fallen into disrepair. There is no electricity, but we did include plumbing in the construction. I have never needed to buy a castle, so I do not know if it is possible.

You are most certainly welcome to come visit MY castle, since there are none in your country (which seems incredibly odd to me!). Though again I must warn you it is in disrepair and quite possibly haunted. I’m sure I could prepare a few rooms for you if you were to come.

I have heard of email, but as I do not have electricity, I do not have a computer and thus I’ve never used it. So if you don’t mind, I shall continue to send letters in the way I am familiar. While I am not particularly patient when I don’t know if the event I’m awaiting will ever happen, I can wait a lifetime for something I know will.

Now that you know a few things about me, I would like to know more about you. Do you have any family? An occupation? You seemed very independent traveling alone. Is that a normal thing that ladies do in this generation?

Sebastian

* * *

Salt Lake City, Utah, United States. 3 September, 2006

3 September, 2006

Dear Sebastian,

Not gonna lie, a visit to a crumbling, dark, possibly haunted castle sounds even more like you’re turning my life into a movie. I’m not sure what genre I would classify it as, because I don’t know that horror-romance is a real thing. But I will have you know that I am LIVING for the thought of it. I adore movies, if you couldn’t already tell!

The fact that you’ve always lived there is also very interesting to me. Doesn’t it get lonely living in such a large building entirely by yourself? At least, the way you described it, it sounds like you live there alone. You could probably make a killing if you renovated the place, put in electricity, and either turned it into apartments or used it as a themed hotel! Though I guess it might be hard to do something like that to a family property…

And no, Google isn’t a map you can buy a copy of! It’s like…the world’s largest library that you can search just by typing what you’re looking for. And it’s all on my computer! Next time you visit the nearest library to you, you should try it out. At least over here most libraries have the internet. I guess I can’t really speak for libraries in Italy.

I do have a small family. My parents and grandparents live in the next city over, and I have 2 aunts/uncles and 4 cousins. They live in Oklahoma and Nebraska, though, so I haven’t seen them since I was a kid. I don’t know how familiar you are with US geography, so I’ll include a map for you. How old-fashioned is that?

I work as a medical dispatcher. People seem to think that it’s a really interesting job, but really it’s mostly just being yelled at by people while they wait for emergency services to arrive. It’s stressful and I’d like to find something else to do, but finding anything that pays even close to what I make isn’t easy. So here I am!

You know, sometimes the things you say are so funny. “In this generation?” You sound like an ancient vampire or something when you say things like that! But yes, at least over here, it’s not unheard of for anybody to travel alone. Well, except little kids.

Oh yeah! You wanted to know more about Melody. She’s an artist like you, and my best friend. She is torn between thinking me continuing to write to you is crazy, and demanding pictures so she can see “my hot Italian boyfriend.” No matter how many times I tell her you’re NOT my boyfriend…that’s Melody for you. But if you wouldn’t mind sending me a picture, that would at least get her off my back on one thing.

I still feel like I hardly know anything about you. I know you don’t have any family and that you’re an artist, but that’s about it. Are your paintings anywhere I could look them up? How long have you been an artist? What do you do for fun in an old, crumbly castle without any electricity?

Just so you know, I’ve saved up $400 toward a trip to Italy. Maybe I’ll find a local to give me a tour when I get there.