You approach your bedchamber with relief, all other details flying from your burdened mind as you focus on renewing your strength by sleeping the day away.
What good is an ageless un-life if you can't lead it in style? You close the curtains and sink into the mattress with a deep sigh, gazing up at the canopy as you settle in to sleep.
An image floats before you of the mortal you attacked tonight in a rage of Hunger. In your Blood-starved mind, you'd been certain that they were someone from your past, before the Embrace. What you can remember is the intense feeling of wrongness you'd felt, like there was a secret locked within your mind nagging from behind a wall of repressed memory.
You close your eyes and images flood back in quick flashes before solidifying into a scene you'd visited often, but never remembered in your waking hours. A lost memory—stolen from your cold and long-dead mind—but it's resurfacing more frequently now, as if something has shaken it loose to rattle around in your head like a specter.
You'd been chosen by your sire because your mortal abilities fit with her ideals for the Ventrue clan. The dead have no need of mortal memories, but without some anchor to your past, will your humanity be gone forever? The vision is as vivid as it always is, and for fleeting seconds, you're confused as to why you're so surprised. You've always been here. This is who you are.
In life, before you were chosen by Corliss to join clan Ventrue, you were…