LATENIGHTBITES

a 20th century vampire with internet access

[bloodfeather]

[bloodfeather]

Reviewing Modern Vampires: NBC Hannibal

Today I watched the finale of the television show Hannibal. There will not be any more episodes after this. I am disheartened but also relieved. No longer will the mystery of “will they, won’t they” torment me in my daily life. Lu (my housemate, also a vampire) is the only one in this house who can appreciate the visual artistry of the show. This is surprising as Hannibal may be the only thing we can agree on.

I will not bore you with the intricacies of the series as it is very popular on this site and plenty of you are as intellectually inclined as I am. I will explain the innate relationship I have with the psychiatrist. Not to say I believe it is morally right to be a cannibal, but I cannot completely condemn the action either, I mean, look at me. Hannibal talks like me, a man from the earliest years of the 20th century. He dresses perfectly and is extremely European. All these allude me to believe Hannibal Lecter is a vampire. In the most modern and subtextual sense.

[bloodfeather]

Part Two: How I Was Made

A beautiful man came to sit next to me. He introduced himself as Charles Wayne. We went back and forth for a minute; he asked me if I knew I'm named after a star. "Finnian Orus, Orus comes from Orion, the hunter of the constellations." A sly smile on his face as he said it.

He convinced me to look at a book of constellations in his study, pointing to the one he was referring to at the table. He stood behind me, close in a way no man had ever dared before. There was only a second of silence, the only pattern of breathing I heard was my own.

I don’t remember anything after that, perhaps a pinch, a hand around my neck, complete darkness.

When I woke up, Charles was gone, and I was back at home, in my own bed with no recollection of how I got there.

These days I'm in a house, among others that are like me. We're quite like a family now. I haven't heard from Charles. I'm dependent on the hope that by sharing my story within the vast of the internet, maybe he will find me.

[bloodfeather]

Part One: How I Was Made

It was the Christmas of 1924. I was invited to a party, a party where the mansion was as tall as everyone's ego. It was being held by some rich country folk who were new to the city. The family was enormous, with six siblings that claimed they moved for a new beginning. They invited whole surrounding neighborhoods. The foods were intricate, and the drinks were beautiful. By the time midnight rolled around everyone had left or found a couch to pass out on. Everyone, it seemed, except for me. I found myself drinking wine at a huge table, talking to some gentlemen about the moon of all things.