The Traveling Man

Richard had traveled across the country more time then he could count. Always moving on before too much suspicion was drawn to him. He didnt like what he was, but he didnt hate what he was either. What he hated was that he had to kill to feed - it was the only way he knew. He had seduced many single woman for such things, pleasing himself in more then just the need for food, and he hated himself for it. But his creator had left him on his own. Richard had always been good at killing.

In the years - oh, the years - he had been here (he had been here for as long as the United States had existed) he had rarely found another vampire or the signs of one. That had all changed a while back, and he had moved West away from them. He was witness to fierce clan rivalries. He had kept to the outskirts of such societies, until now. He was tired of being alone and wanted to feel wanted, like he belonged, along like minded people.

And now was his chance.