The village burned behind him as he strode confidently into the chaos of battle. How many years had it been since he had enjoyed anything else? The memories all blend together into a hymn of endless blood and night. Now he was on a parapet, holding a man to the ground by his neck. The man was choking and his pale skin hid the delicious blood which sang out to be consumed.
Now he stalked the streets of a land called France. More alabaster blood dolls, wearing conspicuous cylindrical hats and a circle of choking fabric on their necks. His hunger grew until he could no longer keep control.
Landscape changes. Now the New World, a place called Dallas. He has regained control but he is not who he was born to be, he has been reborn. He knows that what he sees is a dream, but something is coming. A rebirth. A place called Chicago. It won’t be long now…