June 3rd, 1986
Just spoke with mother. I will meet them everyone in D.C. in 2 days. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, but I wish the flight from London wasn't so long. Oh well, I can always try to sleep I guess. I'm so glad that summer is here and classes are over for awhile. The winters here in England was miserable. It rains constantly. One is always wet, and chilled to the bone. Some sunshine will be nice for a change.

June 9th, 1986
I've got to get away from them, these Sabbats, or whatever they call themselves. They attacked us near the Lincoln Memorial. They killed everyone else, mother, father, even little Marissa, and drank their blood. I'm their prisoner, they've kidnapped me. Fists and pipes and clubs pounded my body into a pulp. I heard at least 4 bones break before I blacked out. Then they used me in some kind of satanic ritual. They clubbed me over the head with shovels, threw me into the hole and then buried me alive! I don't know how, but I clawed my way out of the coffin they buried me in. There was a big plastic sack filled with blood all around it. When I broke through the coffin, I was covered by blood. I had to be high on some drugs they injected me with, because I was filled with a lust to drink the blood. I drank it all, licking it from my clothes and the plastic cocoon. All I can remember was that it tasted like a sweet nectar, and not foul in the least. I had to be high.

June 11th, 1986
What's happening to me! I am like the the cadavers I dissect at school. My skin is pale and gaunt, my eyes sunken. My lungs do not breath, my heart does not beat, yet I am full of blood. Full of cravings for blood. My nails are claws and my teeth, fangs.

They call me a vampire. I agree, I can only call myself a monster.

June 20th, 1986
They expect me to fight in some kind of vampire war for them! I'm a foot soldier in what they call a "crusade". Basically, we're supposed to cause as much chaos as we can, because it breaks something called the "Masquerade", which their enemies, the "Camarilla" seek to hide behind so mankind doesn't learn about us, I mean them, uh..the vampires.

July 9th, 1986
It's been a month since my "Embrace", as Cristos calls it. I'm a member of their "pack" now. What I really am now is a member of the Damned. I'm forced to accept this new existence, for death is the alternative. I can't stay awake during the day anymore no matter how hard I try, not that it matters, since sunlight burns me with it's slightest touch. The beautiful colors of the morning sun are forbidden to me know, they would cause my destruction.

July 22nd, 1986
Darryl, he's what the pack calls the "Priest", gave me a backhanded compliment today, something to the effect of "it's good to see you're still alive". I guess he didn't expect me to make it. I can understand why. Faces come and go here at the Haven, sometimes someone I meet one night, I never see again. We're at war with something called the "Camarilla". They're another group of vampires that we, the Sabbat, fight with for control of different cities. Apparently we were only created to be cannon fodder for this "crusade"-thing and if anybody survives it's basically icing on the cake. If you survive, like I managed to somehow, then they give you tasks and missions to complete, to test you. If you do all that, then you're considered a full member, otherwise you're watched constantly to make sure you don't screw something up, betray the pack, or do anything stupid.

August 4th, 1994
It's been nearly ten years since I have made an entry into this journal, and my resuming it's use now is a dangerous thing. But I do this to chronicle my existence from this point forward. My superior in the Hand would frown upon it to say the least.

Much about my life, and un-life, has changed. I was Embraced during the late spring of 1986, when my Pack attacked Washington D.C. I survived the Creation Rites, where you are beaten, Embraced, beaten some more and then buried in a coffin surrounded by blood. If you somehow make it out of the grave instead of falling into torpor, you are beaten unconscious again. When you awake, you are a Vampire and a member of the Sabbat.

I had been vacationing my family and was on summer holiday from medical school. My makers slew my family and feasted on their blood. It appalled me then, it is irrelevant to me now. I was human then, and feeling like that tore at my heart. My heart is dead now and I am unconcerned with that former existence.

I now look upon my mortal years and see them only as a larvae stage, from which I thankfully evolved. I am a Vampire now. More than that, I am Tzimisce. As Vampires transcend and surpass their mortal existance, so to do we evolve further than our Vampiric brethren.

I have grown quite skilled with my clan's primary discipline, Vicissitude. It allows me to reshape my appearance and that of others. Cristos and I are the only ones in my pack with this discipline, and the others seem content to keep it that way. Their loss, for it's power is in it's versatility. Soon I will be able to awaken what is called my "zulo form". I will become 8 feet tall, weigh nearly 500 lbs and see my strength, endurance and speed all increase dramatically, becoming a powerful, almost werewolf-like juggernaut. I have seen Cristos assume this form in battle and it is a awesome sight to behold. Some of the others cringe at the sight of the zulo, they are weak-willed fools.

August 8th, 1994
Most of my original pack has survived since my Embrace, my sire Cristos and the Pack Priest, Darryl, are it's most senior members. Darryl always seemed to push me harder than even Cristos, like he was testing me for something. Well, last week, I found out it's because he was. Darryl is a member of the Black Hand, a small powerful faction of the Sabbat. He has recommended me for membership and is acting as my sponsor. I will meet with the Archbishop of Cairo, as well as one of the Seraphs, who are kind of kind of like Camarilla Justicars.

August 25th, 1994
I guess I passed, as I was told you either pass or you are destroyed, and I'm still "alive", so to speak. The Archbishop want to send me to Rome, as the city has been controlled by the Caitiff since World War II, and the Sabbat feel the time is right for another attempt to conquer it. They feel my skill with Vicissitude will be invaluable in this regard, as will my skills of diplomacy. Apparently, not many Tzimisce are asked to join the Black Hand, so I feel honored. I will do my best for the Archbishop and the Seraph to validate their faith in me.

I leave for Rome on Friday. It will not be hard to say goodbye to Miami, I have never felt comfortable here. Too many people do not speak English, and my Spanish is still very weak.

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