New Wave Requiem

Every Breath You Take

The days at a new school are always hard. You go from being an 8th-grader, a lord among elementary students, to a lowly freshman, a little kid in a school of seemingly full-grown men and women. Until last week, that was my Requiem, but now I feel like I’ve passed a huge developmental milestone. Since my first night, I’ve had The Sight, and that’s a very useful thing, but I still felt like the psychic sheep among wolves. But now that I can move about unseen, I no longer hunt like a two-bit mugger looking for the lowest-hanging fruit. Now I slip through private places and take what’s mine. I follow people, hear their private mutterings, and witness their guilty pleasures. That’s when I like to reward them with a Kiss. The child pilfers a cookie after bedtime. The lonely man relaxes in the tub. The widow peruses dog-eared pages of campy ribaldry. The warm aftertaste of moral lust make these the most delicious moments.

Oh, and I think I may have just joined a secret society of Kindred doctors, there are swarms of mindless vampires in Dorian’s domain causing wanton destruction, and the FBI is coming down on our mortal allies. But I’m a touch intoxicated with my new-found power right now, so that may have to wait. For now, I’m going to go crawl into someone’s closet and kiss their skeleton.

Dr. Vitale


shawngaston cvbarnhart

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