Two months ago, Tristan passed from life to undeath. He was walking in an abandoned lot, kicking around the dirt while he contemplated the latest song fragment running through his head, when he was abruptly taken from behind. His skin was pierced, drawing rivulets of blood into his assailant’s mouth, then ripped deeply, making his knees buckle.
He could feel his life essence draining from him as he knelt in agony. Looking down, he saw the pallor spread over his hands. More than the wintry air was chilling his bones; the lack of blood caused the world to spin, quivering under the increasingly firm grip around his shoulders. Speckles of white light started to dance before his eyes even as the background receded to black.
But just as the white threatened to envelop him, the assaulting creature pressed his neck swiftly to Tristan’s mouth. In the fury that comes with impending death, Tristan rended with his teeth the flesh that was presented to him. Torrents of blood gushed over his tongue and down his throat. Fury transformed into hunger, and his revitalized hands clasped more tightly the head attached to the neck he was draining. Even as an abyssal ache began permeating his being, Tristan kept sucking and sucking the blood down until the neck was ripped away from him.
As quickly as he had been taken, he was left, with only the parting words of “remember to go to ground or dark before the daylight” left to aid his adjustment to his new unlife. A feral need gripped him, a need to do unto others what he had done to his maker. It was the only way to satiate the burning that ran through his very veins, compelling him to kill wherever he was. But he was mindful to heed the warning of his maker, and he could feel the crisping of his body in the rays of the dawn if he was overzealous in pursuing his prey.
He has been wandering. Alone. Seeking solace in the shadows during the day, seeking blood to assuage his burning at night. His music has been forgotten, the throbbing of unsatisfiable need the only tune raging in his head now. Replacing the notes are seemingly random talents for influencing people. For getting them closer to him. For making them easier prey.