The early 1800s... This time, I settled in Paris, adopting the French derivative of my name — Vincent. With its dense population, narrow streets, and dark crevices, Paris suited my needs perfectly, allowing one such as myself a myriad of places to lurk during these unsettled times. I had grown bored of occupying my time with philosophy and the arts of the Renaissance centuries before. And being what I was, proper affectio...

September 1888… In the midst of the crowd, I saw her — a true vision of loveliness who dulled the glamorous attempts of the other ladies. Her essence stole my attention away from the writer who was speaking with me. I politely nodded in her direction. To my pleasure, she blushed, and nodded back; her bidding smile encouraging me. "Excuse me, Mr Stoker," I said politely and wove my way through the other guests to reach her...

I felt quite good to have ridden the city of a filthy vermin, yet I needed to see my sweet Elizabeth in order to feel more man than beast again. Only the touch of her creamy flesh would expunge the violent death from my hands. I was desperate to see her flawless face before me; it was the only thing that would help erase the sickening vision of the filth I had just eliminated. I need you, Elizabeth! I need you now… The ho...