Ah, my pretties. Play wonderous music for me while I work. For whilst I may strike my victims dumb with terror, and turn them into little more than silent puppets dancing to my tune, I need my music to keep my own sanity.
So play on, my pretties, play on.
Play well, and you may go free to pursue your own desires and dance to your own tunes.
Play poorly and join my victims in their fleeting lives.
Being a vampire was hard enough in the days of yore. Maintaining one’s image without access to mirrors was always difficult. But modern times have made it even more difficult.
Cameras were a problem from their beginning. Anything with a mirror simply would not show a vampire. Lenses were different. Flat glass had little or no effect. Wavy glass has a varying effect. But the silver in the negative made film cameras unreliable. Then we arrive at modern smartphones with digital cameras built in.
Smartphone cameras may not like us, but the audience apparently loves them.
As time goes on, modern society finds new reasons to put cameras everywhere.
Being a vampire walking streets of London (with more security camera per capita) will put you in front of many of those cameras, and reveal your secret to the volunteer monitoring the cameras.
Next time we’ll discuss the problems with getting a state-issued ID card when the camera have trouble focussing on your face.
Walking in the fresh air and avoiding tea houses for a few days seemed to have stopped the visions. At least for a time.
Then they returned with a vengeance, almost as if their source was aware that I had attempted to shut them off. The fact that I had done just that ate at me, and likely fueled their attack once it came. But then, I seem to be central to this tale, so perhaps that is just what must be.
The alternative is to be just a puppet dancing on the strings of an unseen puppeteer. As if I were nothing more than a character in someone else’s story. Worse, perhaps even designed with reactions calculated to advance the plot. But if that is the truth, it is unthinkable. So it cannot possibly be true.
I am not a puppet. I have free will, and freedom of action. My intentions will carry on past my own demise. I’ve seen to that.
When the letters I’ve left scattered to the winds are gathered together, the truth will be evident.
Of course, actually doing the heavy lifting myself to bring the bright light of justice on those that set me on my current path sounds like hard work, and I don’t have the patience for that any more.
So I leave it to the world to work out the details.
I’ll be here.
Here, battling the visions from the deeps. Deep time. Deep space. Deep water. Deep and dark places where men fear to tread. Places occupied by things better left in the dark. Things that want out. Things that want to step off the page and settle in other minds.
Things that might have found a new home, if my trap has worked.