Jerry Dandridge had only ever loved three woman in his thousand years of walking this earth. Fate had been a cruel mistress and taken them all away.

There faces would haunt him until his last breath. Perhaps that was why he had painted them. Somewhere inside of him that still clung to his humanity had thought that putting there faces on canvases would fix the horrors he had caused them. Maybe that was why he had immortalized them.

The women with lomg brown hair and sad eyes in the red dress had been Caralina. His wife when he had been human, so long ago.

Her death had been by his own hand when he had been freshly damned to the night. He hadn't wanted to tear out her throat or see the light slowly drain from her eyes but the hunger had been consuming.

He had been in love with her since they had been children. His family had been well off and Caralina's father had been thrilled at the prospect of their union.

Twenty four years and five children had been the product of their marriage. He had loved each one of them but after his fleeing he could never bear to find out their fates.

The second was Josette. The enchantress. He had chosen to keep the happier of their memories on his wall. Their affair had been short lived but he still had loved her. She had been the daughter of a wealthy aristocrat. Regine had befriended her before Jerry ever laid eyes on her.

Some part of Josette had been attracted to the darkness he held under his skin. She had never known the truth till it was to late. Many nights had been spent in her bed as her skin caressed his. She had stumbled on his dark secret when he and Regine had been feeding one night. He could recall her face as she screamed in horror under the pale moonlight.

Regine had been the one to make the girl forget about what she had saw before she could alert the village. Things between them had never been the same as if some part of her knew that the man that had been courting her wasn't human. He had taken leave when she no longer could look at him with anything other than disgust. He had kept the ring she had given him the metal served to remind him of the fact no one would ever accept a monster.

The newest of his paintings kept the women with a pink ribbon in her hair. Abigail Cole. The woman he had failed. He had chosen to paint her the way he had known her before death marred her soul. He had wanted to destroy her at first.

After Josette he took pleasure in causing pain to those that crossed his path. Playing with the slave girl to feed the demon had lived in him had started their story. They had been kindred souls and being with her had made him feel more human than anything in the world.

She had been wronged by the world just like he had been. So full of anger of men had made her immune to his charms and that had intrigued him. For her he had served his heart to her on a silver platter.

Abigail had laid eyes on his true face and hadn't ran. She had embraced every part of him and had wanted to be with him forever.

For her he kept the most precious of items. For her he had turned her beloved twin brother into something other than mortal. Billy had become his faithful companion through the years his loyalty as strong as his sisters had been.

The leather bracelet that was wrapped around his wrist felt cool against his skin as he remembered it's original owner. He hadn't been able to save Abigail. The townspeople had burned her alive for accusations of being a witch before he could save her.

For her he had slaughtered everyone of them who had stood by as she screamed.

Of all the valuables and treasures he had collected over the years. The only items he truly felt connected to where the faces of the ones who had stolen slivers of his humanity that he would never be able to get back.