Bloodmoon

My name’s Sanguine Lacroix, I’m eighteen (well I was eighteen when I died), born on March 21, 1601 in Tours, France and turned on September 3, 1619 by Gustav, a French vampire (he doesn’t have a last name, either that or he doesn’t remember it). It was the eve of my parents’ anniversary and I was on my way home from a friend’s house. It was late and the streets were nearly empty. I came upon Gustav by the local park. He was lying on the ground and breathing real fast. I had been volunteering as a nurse back then so instinctively I approached him and offered my aid. But to my surprise, the sick man was stronger than he seemed. A cold hand seized me and dragged me down to him. I never believed in the supernatural until I felt his canines puncture my skin. I remembered that night like it was yesterday. He nearly drained me and when I thought he would leave me to die I tasted something metallic dripping into my mouth. From the time that first drop of blood entered my mouth I knew my life or unlife would never be the same.