Mario
I can say this because I know what happens to ghouls. Andy had embedded this skill into me the night I drank from his ghoul, the sleeping beauty from my awakening. I knew she had an idea of him. Called him, "The man of her dreams." And he knew this and loved her. Loved her enough to embed intelligence into her brain that had taken him centuries to obtain. As well as the knowledge of what he looked like even if she would never quite remember their encounter as ever being more than a dream. He had made himself a God in her eyes, and this empowered him. As if he hated the idea that she would one day, with time, forget him.
It quickly became known to me that ghouls could take from us information in much of the same way we took information from them. It was a symbiotic relationship. A deep trust, union that connects the two individuals. I thought back on the man from which I had used as my trial and error and began to get angry. I could feel the blood in my veins, his blood, boil inside me. I did not like what he had to share with me. The cursed secrets of his visits to many a place where they used kidnapped children as prostitutes. His lack of compassion and joy he felt when taking a young persons innocence sickened me. The smile on face, the dirty grimy sweat on his brow. No I did not like him. And did not like him knowing me. I felt ashamed then suddely, as if in reading his thoughts and memories, I had somehow allowed it happen. Been a witness to a crime which was never brought to justice.
I turned my body towards the open window, heard the lonely hoot of the owl from way off in the distance loud and shrill like a war cry as if egging me on, then leapt over backwards through the window and onto the wet grass. With an impressive preternatural sprint I made my way back towards Andy, leaving the demon ghoul with an open window. But not before I had given his mind one last and final command, that which was to follow me. So long Mario.
It quickly became known to me that ghouls could take from us information in much of the same way we took information from them. It was a symbiotic relationship. A deep trust, union that connects the two individuals. I thought back on the man from which I had used as my trial and error and began to get angry. I could feel the blood in my veins, his blood, boil inside me. I did not like what he had to share with me. The cursed secrets of his visits to many a place where they used kidnapped children as prostitutes. His lack of compassion and joy he felt when taking a young persons innocence sickened me. The smile on face, the dirty grimy sweat on his brow. No I did not like him. And did not like him knowing me. I felt ashamed then suddely, as if in reading his thoughts and memories, I had somehow allowed it happen. Been a witness to a crime which was never brought to justice.
I turned my body towards the open window, heard the lonely hoot of the owl from way off in the distance loud and shrill like a war cry as if egging me on, then leapt over backwards through the window and onto the wet grass. With an impressive preternatural sprint I made my way back towards Andy, leaving the demon ghoul with an open window. But not before I had given his mind one last and final command, that which was to follow me. So long Mario.