I met Marietta, Fox, on her blog. She was writing a story, and happened to include my name, and at first I thought it was deliberate, because my name isn’t common, won’t pull up thousands of results in Google, but it turned out to be a coincidence. I was prepared to leave it at that, but then I researched her, and found out we lived in the same city. When I asked her to meet up, at first she was weirded out, but then I guess she decided it wasn’t such a bad idea. We met at a Chipotle, stood in line for a few minutes chatting, and it wasn’t until we were at the counter, next up, that she admitted she hated Chipotle, and... I had to laugh.
That set the tone for our relationship right there. We never did go back to Chipotle, but I guess there was something there, and we continued to explore it. When I got around to explaining what I did for a living, though, things got weird again. They got weirder when I admitted to guiding Clive Lockwood to her blog, in the hopes of arranging a meeting down the line. I had figured Lockwood as a person of interest, had come to town for that express purpose, and...She decided I was using her, and that it wasn’t cool. That about ended things in a heartbeat.
I screwed it up. Absolutely. Worst mistake of my life, probably, and I suppose that’s saying something. I could sit here rehashing the relationship, and maybe you would feel sorry for me, or maybe dismiss me as a monster, and perhaps you already have, and that would be one of the great ironies. I don’t see the point. Listen, it’s been a long journey, and maybe I reached the point where even I couldn’t make sense of it anymore. After it ended with Fox, I maybe grew a little desperate, started grasping, and lost the thread...
Which brings us to 2020, the year of the pandemic. How does the Ostwald business connect with Lockwood? Did it turn out that Ostwald was Lockwood after all? Well, that would be convenient. Even tidy, wouldn’t it?
But the truth is, I’m not even sure Lockwood was a vampire. I killed him just to be sure.
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