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Three hundred and eighty years.
Angelus
Jan. 16.2021
He'd waited all night to see her walk right into his room, he'd wanted to apologize and ask her to forgive him for all he'd said. He'd grown tired of the killings of the maid, even though Marcellus had assured him that they'd all volunteered to turn in case anything went wrong but he just couldn't take it.
With each drop if blood he slowly felt his humanity depart from him, he felt the void and emptiness his soul had left behind and he was just an empty shell. Truly he'd felt a pang of jealousy and couldn't seem to doubt if there truly was nothing between them but when he heard his brother speak, there was nothing but the bond of fraternity between them from one kindred to another.
But he saw a glimmer of salvation in that and decided to give it his shot. Surely Marcellus might regret killing him but if he got to die, he would have
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