"…Later, Old John was found lying in a dark corner of an alley, his body ice-cold, already dead through and through. On his neck were two blood-red puncture wounds, as though something had pierced straight through. No one knew exactly how he died—he had bled to death, but no one understood how the blood had been lost, nor what those two strange holes in his neck could possibly be. Back then, people knew absolutely nothing about vampires—and things are completely different now. We can only keep far away from crowds, living lonely, dark lives."
Edward pondered for a moment, then continued speaking slowly. "I was utterly devastated when Old John died. Yet amid the bustling crowd gathered around him, sighing and mourning, I saw that strange, familiar figure appear once again. He stood at the street corner, watching the people from a distance with complete indifference in his eyes. Suddenly a ray of sunlight flashed across his face, creating a strange gleam—that was the reflection of his sharp, white fangs catching the sun. Perhaps it was that out-of-place sense of nobility and allure that drew me; I left the crowd behind and walked straight toward him."
"You weren't afraid at all?"
"No." Edward shook his head with self-mockery. "A young man's curiosity can always overpower everything else, can't it?"
"He watched me approach step by step, then bared his sharp fangs. I had no idea why his teeth were so long, so I simply said, 'Sir, your teeth are really long.'
'Are they? Would you like me to show you some other marvelous things?' He smiled slyly at me under the sunlight.
Before I could reply, he suddenly vanished. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind me and playfully tapped my shoulder. 'Young man, I'm right here.'
I was especially shocked at how he had done it. 'Is this some kind of magic?' 'No, it's simply because I move incredibly fast—so fast you couldn't perceive it.' He burst into hearty laughter, even though the sound was hoarse and unpleasant. 'How do you do that?' 'It's one of my abilities, young man.' He suddenly stopped talking and extended a hand toward me. His back was to the sun, so I couldn't clearly see his face—only the thick black hair swaying gently in the breeze. 'Tell me… do you want eternal life?'"
"Eternal life?" My eyes widened. "He just… invited you like that? To become a vampire?"
"—I believe so. But at the time, I didn't yet have any strong concept of life and death. I was too young. So I simply thought he was some weird old man; his whole string of bizarre actions left me completely bewildered. In the end, I told him I hadn't decided yet. He smiled at me, said he would come find me again in a few years, and then vanished on the spot. After that, many more years passed without me ever seeing him again."
"Later I gradually grew up, reached the prime of my youth, left my parents, and began living on my own. I married, had children. Life was always so ordinary—until the Black Death struck. My wife, my children… one after another, they died. At the same time, I received news of my mother's death. It was like a hammer blow to the head. I rushed back from dozens of miles away, only to find my mother lying quietly in her coffin, as though she were merely asleep." Edward closed his eyes, brows tightly knit, then slowly opened them again. "…Let's light the candles. I never installed chandeliers in this room—I still prefer candles." He walked past the bed; his slender fingers struck a match, and the faint candlelight once again bloomed in the room, illuminating Edward's pale face. At this moment he looked particularly haggard.
"For the first time, I truly felt the shadow of death hanging over my head. It was a pallor and powerlessness that no words could describe. The merciless Reaper simply stretched out its fatal arms and took everything I loved, without warning, without any way to stop it. You could only watch it happen, hands grasping at nothing, knowing full well it was coming yet powerless to do anything. In the days that followed, I often thought about my father—and about my own life. That period of suffering was so fragile, so bleak, so agonizing. I began to fear death, to fear the unknown. I became listless, indifferent to my own future, wasting my days away like a useless wreck. My father also began to drink heavily—we both turned into hopeless wrecks."
"It was at that moment that I unconsciously thought back to that person from years ago—the strange man who had extended his hand and offered me eternal life. In that instant, the world suddenly seemed clear again. He was like a sorcerer holding an irresistible spell, drawing me toward unknown realms. So one night I returned to that same little tavern, ordered a bowl of stew, and looked up toward the high platform, hoping he would appear."
"He did appear. I recognized him instantly among the crowd. What puzzled me was that so many years had passed, yet his appearance hadn't changed at all—still the same jet-black straight hair, the same gray eyes, gazing faintly at the people as though nothing concerned him. The moment he saw me, a smug smile curved his lips, as if he had known all along that I would return."
"'You came.' That familiar, slick voice rang out once more. 'I knew you would come.'
'What is the price of eternal life?' I asked him directly.
'Saying goodbye to your former life.' A cold sneer appeared on his face; the tips of his fangs faintly visible between his lips.
'Why?'
'Because you will become an entirely different kind of being from what you once were.'
'What do you mean?'
'Let's talk somewhere else.' He stood up; the formal coat draped elegantly as he rose. 'This place isn't convenient.' He gave a sly smile.
He led me to a secluded corner—I recognized it at once: it was the very same alley where Old John had died so horribly years before. He crouched down and told me a secret. 'Actually, that man you mentioned back then—Old John—I was the one who killed him. His blood… honestly, it tasted terrible.' He licked his lips.
I took a step back. 'You… who exactly are you? No — what are you?'
He stood up. At that moment he towered half a head taller than me; the overwhelming pressure made it hard to breathe. Then he told me the truth: he was not human. He was a vampire. That was the first time I had ever encountered the concept of vampires."
"'What is a vampire?'
'A creature that lives by drinking human blood. We dwell in darkness.'
'But you look almost the same as us.'
He laughed. 'That's one of our means of disguise. But it doesn't mean we possess human emotions. We are far stronger than humans, with immortal life, incredible speed, and boundless power.'"
Edward set down his wine glass. "I was filled with admiration for that mysterious vampire, and an intense curiosity about the unknown—like a filter that completely erased his horror and eeriness. Looking back now, I didn't care at all that he had killed Old John—perhaps because so many years had passed, perhaps I was cold-blooded, or perhaps I realized he could easily control any human life at will." His gaze dimmed, full of contradiction. "Even now, after learning the truth, I still feel no emotion about Old John's death… Perhaps because I am no longer human." He let out a dry laugh, then walked out onto the balcony, gazing into the deep night sky. Beneath the dim canopy, an indigo curtain hung across the heavens, accompanied by the cries of a few crows that wiped away the last pale traces of light.
My throat bobbed. "What exactly is the difference… between the emotions of vampires and humans?"
He turned around. "How should I put it? The most obvious difference is that we no longer experience fear. That most primal human emotion and function has been taken from us. And precisely because of that, we can hunt humans without any hesitation. You could say," he gave an ironic smile, "it's simply for survival. It may seem incomprehensible to you, but we can never truly understand each other. Humans can never understand vampires, and vampires can never understand humans. Even I, who was once human… can no longer understand it now." He turned his gaze back to me, deep and profound. His fingers caressed the rim of the wine glass, reflecting a thin ring of light under the dim candle glow.
"…Where was I? Ah, yes. After hearing his words, I was completely stunned. I had no idea such beings existed on Earth—mysterious creatures who hid by day and roamed by night, not to mention being far stronger than humans and possessing eternal life. To me, it was an enormous temptation. But I still hadn't fully decided whether I truly wanted to become one of them—especially when he said I would have to leave my current life behind. I hesitated. For me, my current life was plain but stable; becoming a vampire meant all kinds of uncertainties, a new environment, new challenges. And there was also my elderly father who still needed my care. He smiled and didn't press me to decide quickly. He said I could stay by his side for a while, observe how vampires truly lived, and see whether all of it would ultimately lead me to make my choice."
"So you chose to follow him?"
"Yes. That filter was like a piece of paper stuck on that couldn't be removed." He said mockingly. "And his appearance was like a lifeline I clung to desperately. How many people could possibly resist such a temptation?"
"I began living with him. During the day, I would go to his residence—a luxurious manor hidden at the edge of the town, steeped in centuries of quiet. The first time I stepped into that domain, I was overwhelmed by its grandeur. Tall spires rose among dense woods, as if nature and human ingenuity had achieved perfect harmony, silently watching the changes in this small town over centuries. Entering the manor, I was greeted by a thick aura of antiquity: grand marble steps led me through into the majestic interior; ancient statues and exotic flowers in the garden swayed gently in the breeze. Cobblestone paths wound away into unknown corners.
I would sit beneath the ornate chandeliers of vaulted ceilings, talking with him for hours over precious ancient tomes—from trivial daily matters to the philosophy of life, from ancient times to visions of the future. We got along remarkably well, like old friends who hadn't seen each other in years. He often told me about the vampire way of life—how leisurely, how free, how unrestrained it was. Gradually, I became utterly captivated by him—"
A puff of smoke suddenly drifted onto the candle, extinguishing it once again.
"Sorry." I gave an awkward laugh.
His anger seemed to finally boil over. In an instant he pinned me down onto the bed; that suffocating sense of being overpowered surged through me again. "Have you had enough? First you kept interrupting me, then you smoked in my home and filled the entire room with smoke, and now you're blowing smoke rings." He bared his fangs—half threat, half warning. "If you're rude again, I won't mind draining every last drop of your blood."
"I'm sorry." I nervously stubbed out the cigarette. "I won't smoke anymore. Please continue."