Stefan’s Diaries: Bloodlust Preface

And the TV series developed byKevin Williamson & Julie PlecTis at a time the very witching time of night,When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes outcontagion to this existence. Now could I drink hot bloodAnd do such bitter business as the dayWould quake to look on.Hamlet, William Shakespeare stick inThe poets and philosophers I once loved had it wrong. Death does not come to us all, nor does the passage of time dim our memories and reduce our bodies to dust. Because while I was considered dead, and a headstone had been engraved with my name, in truth my life was just beginning. It was as if Id been asleep these many years, slumbering in the darkest night, only to awake to a world that was brighter, wilder, more thrilling than Id ever imagined.The humans I used to live on continued their lives, just as I once had, spending their exhaustible days going to the market, tending the fields, stealing secret kisses when the sun went down. They were save shadows to me now, no mor e significant than the frightened squirrels and rabbits that scampered in the forest, barely advised of the world around them.But I was no shadow. I was substantialand impervious to their worst fear. I had conquered death. I was no fleeting visitant to the world. I was its master, and I had all of eternity to bend it to my will.