WESTON, FREDERICK

[attr="class","bhsquot1"]Frederick Weston

[attr="class","bhsquot2"]eddie redmayne,

[attr="class","bhstext"]Bourbon Street. The hustle and bustle made Frederick grimace. He was never pleased with the way this town had turned out over the years. He had to admit, that he did enjoy the culture that seemed to explode at its seems. Frederick had been around long enough to see New Orleans turn from small, superstitious town to large superstitious metropolitan city. The town was vastly different, and yet the people who walked the streets day and night never changed. Hems got a little shorter, skin became the object of desire, but temptations of the human nature remained untouched. It also seemed that way for Frederick. The two items he loved to taste were always right at his fingertips. Alcohol and the sweet aroma of a young woman's blood coursing through her veins.

The town was alive, the street merchants shying away from Frederick as he passed them along the cobble way. He knew why they always acted so strange around him. Voodoo and those who practiced the dark magic always knew of his kind. To put things into perspective, they disliked his kind with a passion. He was known as a Night Walker. Vampires were common in this town, but Frederick had yet to encounter someone of his sort. To help push the loneliness from his thoughts, Fred decided it would be best to drown those pesky thoughts in drink, loud music, and scantily clad women. The creature seemed to glide across the sidewalk as he made his way to one of his favorite clubs. There was always a great selection of food and beverage.

As Fred neared the red ropes, he gave a swift nod to the bouncer and was let in without wait. Frederick was almost always let in without wait anywhere he went. He had been around long enough to make friends with the right people, save money that he didn't have to spend, and open up a business or two in his lifetime that created a hundred years worth of letting people indulge in their greatest fantasies.

The music was overbearing, the humans in the club bounced up and down according to the rhythm the resident DJ was creating from his computer. A small smile appeared across Fred's freckled face. Honey colored eyes scanned the bar for an opening. Soon enough, he found one. Frederick majestically waltzed over to the open spot at the bar and sat down. The bartender gestured to Fred that his usual would be there within a few moments. Frederick's heart mimicked an irregular beating sound. Food. He needed sustenance. He needed the blood of a woman whom smelled like the sweetest nectar. He was hungry and was on a mission to find the most delectable creature in the club.

A few moments had passed when a drink appeared under his nose. He took the glass, raised it into the air in a gesture of thanks to the bartender and brought the concoction to his lips. The warmth of the liquor caressed his throat and eliminated any doubts in his mind of not being able to find his meal tonight. However, it did not subdue the ache in his stomach from starvation. He ordered another and another until the liquor masked the taste for a hunt. He could, most certainly, devour every living creature that inhabited the bar that evening, but his mind and willpower told him otherwise. Someone soon, would come along and prove to him that he needn't worry. Soon, surely.

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