Walking home one night, seeing the door to my family’s home cracked open. I walked in wondering why at this time of night it would be open. As I was walking down the steps to the den I tripped over something. Looking behind seeing what I tripped on and it was my father’s dead body. Crawling backwards on my hands and feet, horrified, bumping into something else. I turned and looked up seeing my mother’s body hanging from one of the ceiling rafters, obviously choked to death, screaming jumping back onto my feet. Looking around for the person who did this, seeing someone or something moving off in the corner. I turned as quickly as I could in that direction to find myself face to face with a stranger. He was smiling, his grin was different and as his grin got bigger i could see the difference was that he had two sharp pointy teeth. In one fluid motion he was at my neck and biting deep into my skin and when he moved off of me everything got hazy and I drifted off. Waking the next night with an awful headache and rubbing my head, I scanned the area I was in. It was dark, damp, cold, and not too far off I could hear the squeaking of bats.

After spending months with this stranger who turned me into what I am, ”The Walking Undead” I began to despise this man. Everything he did when I was around and most of the thing he did to his father and mother. This hatred for him was unbearable, the thought of seeing his face another night.... He had to be destroyed...

When I killed him that day I felt this power, a power far greater then any kill I'd ever done, a power that made me feel stronger, more alive. It made me stronger... and felt great. I sought after vampires, when I can’t find them or have a use for them; I find others to...satisfy me...

All will know me as "Lark the Vampire Hunter"