Sitting alone in this coffee shop shuffling through the stacks of letters left to me through inheritance; it's important to share this history with you. I'm currently organizing the first stack given to me and skimming the second letter, which you will find enclosed here.

The first one hundred years of my life were extremely challenging to adjust to, I felt like a god amongst tiny ants and as my power grew so did my apathy. I began to care less and less for the life around me and let my need for more take over. There was bliss in taking and taking without objection and indulging in what I now was; I wreaked havoc on communities and towns where I grew up and became a symbol to be feared. On my first hunting night, I stumbled upon Cassopaei, even in the darkness the impending cliffs looked to be carved out of bleached bone and resembled faces carved by thousands of mortals. Lush overgrown forests were littered on top with giant ivy hands stroking the scenery down below. I dragged myself slowly through the rain-moistened, sand-ridden pathways; pearl-sized pieces of sand balled at my feet. As I walk I try to feel for life. I discovered a new gift I never had before as a mortal. The ability to feel one's blood and memories through the vessel I now wander through. As I continue walking I begin to feel the opening rhythm of one's heart, a rabbit caught in a snare kicking and punching for a way out; I take it into myself and begin to feel the sensation of a mortal organ working inside me. Each memory and thought rushes into me with each beat of the pump, filling me with new sensations. I follow the glorious scent of the colour and beats step by step, finding out more about my prey. They had just returned from the taverna, stumbling through the cliffs and sand clumps, leaving a colourful trail behind them that guided me and allowed me to see things I never had before. The beauty of it alone was enough to move me and make my body lose its control. I continued to stalk my prey and wait for my opening; then I found the opportunity. They were keeled over, releasing a Merlot grape purple substance. That was starting to form a puddle which rippled with each footfall and stumble. I slowly creep behind my prey and begin to unhinge my jaw, my hundreds of fangs aching for skin to meet them. I slowly plunge my fangs into their neck: the vein pulsating and waiting for the skin to break. The waterfall sprays each fang in my mouth and fills my body with human experience and life. A burning, pleasure-filled experience making my feet tingle. I release my grip when I am finished and slew their body into the deep merlot puddle they had once created. I return to the shadows and try to find a place to rest before sunrise.

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That was my first feeding night and the most powerful experience I ever had undead or mortal. In my next letter, you will find my first resting place enclosed and what happened hereafter but for now, I must stop writing.