Are we so different? (Brighton/Syerren)

Born into nobility, the son of an aristocrat, Brighton soon fell away from his family's ways. Knowing he'd never stick around to inherit his father's great fortunes, Brighton choose to exile himself from his family, therefore forfeiting his family name and family values.

Living there on out with not much more than a peasant name and what money he had with him, Brighton set out on a life of gambling, sex, and lying, which soon turned into the lifestyle that carried him up the social ladder in life.

Managing to stumble upon one of England's many deep, dark secrets of the time, Brighton landed himself at the gates of Heaven and Hell, but with neither desiring to take such a disgraceful soul, he returned to earth as the living dead.

With the help of his lifelong partner, Justine Isabella, Brighton carries on through life - a mere lifeless body during the day, and a blood thirst killer by night.

In the town of Collinsport, Maine, Brighton found himself wondering a dark alleyway. In time, a lady whom he could easily seduce would come about . . . they always did . . . and then he would be satisfied for the night after dumping the body in the port. He didn't know exactly how he come to be in Collinsport, perhaps it had been the idea of Justine Isabella, or perhaps it had just been where his hungry soul had taken him, but why?

In the darkness, he felt a presence near him, but it wasn't the presence of an innocent town prostitute; no, this presence was more distinct. This was a presence he had run in to before in his past. Dashing through the darkness, he came up behind the man, throwing the man's body against the wall even though he was still many feet away. "Ah, who do we have here," Brighton spoke, widening his eyes as he stepped closer to Syerren, examining the man. "Why, I do believe you are none other than a filth called Syerren aren't you? I was sure I put your ass to death a mere half century ago; I'm to guess that I failed," Brighton sneered. "Well, in that case, it's a displeasure to make your acquaintance," Brighton sneered once more, flashing his fangs then backing away, interlocking his hands in front of him.

Finding himself only as far as the outskirts of Collinsport, Syerren still feeling his hatred for everyone, walked along the dark road when his eyes caught upon a mysterious man. Before being able to do anything or know what has happening he impacted a wall recovering instantly then glaring towards the one responsible. “Just what is the meaning of this," he exclaimed.

Surprised that this man knew of him, Syerren tensed all the more remaining near the wall while starting to recall him from an encounter in England. “You’re Weymouth . . . Brighton Weymouth.” Seeing the man instantly expose himself to him, Syerren looked away knowing to well what he was and how devious, all the while wondering why he would show himself here. “I never would have expected to find you here. What . . . do you want of me? I am no value to you! So . . . I think it would be best if we went our separate ways!” then turned away from him prepared to leave.

"Not so fast man," Brighton called, halting Syerren. "I didn't tell you that you could leave . . . and I don't think you are quite so useless to me infact," Brighton added, stepping close to Syerren again. "You seem different since I last ran in to you. I recall you have a brother? You two seemed close; however, I feel as though you don't feel so strongly to him right now." Not getting a response from Syerren, Brighton smirked. "Right. So if that is the case, then perhaps you have no problem in joining me in a walk, do you," he glared, giving Syerren no choice but to go along with him.

As the two set out in the shadows of the area, Brighton soon fell upon a woman in the near distance. Grinning by her figure, he focused on the woman until she turned his way, then with nothing more than a glare, he caused the woman to start to come in his direction. Placing his hand out as the young, brunette giggled in front of him, Brighton took her by the hand, kissing it. "My, what is a fine lady like yourself doing out here on a night like this," he spoke, running his hands up her neck and pulling her close to him. "I could ask you the same question," the lady giggled, hardly noticing Syerren nearby. "You could . . ." Brighton murmured, "but I'll save you the breath," he spoke, his voice barely audible. Without further wait he quickly snapped the girls neck as he sank his teeth deep into his flesh. Finishing only a few moments later, Brighton then lifted his head from the woman, tossing her lifeless body at Syerren. "She's all yours now mate," Brighton spoke, then with an evil laugh and wink, he disappeared into the night, knowing this wouldn't be the last time he would make contact with Syerren.

Finding still blood drain down from the victim’s neck on to his hands then was left alone, Syerren found his own hunger start to catch up to him. With the thoughts of seeing Brighton once more put aside, he looked down at the four punctured wounds he made knowing this being was a hybrid sort of vampire. One he isn't used to dealing with. All the while making Syerren quiver, he brought the dead woman up to him prepared to satisfy his own thirst but a call from another gentleman was heard making him refrain from continuing. Dropping the woman, seeing a man start to approach, Syerren instantly vanished and fled from the scene, hoping never to see Brighton again.

~End Scene~