<span style="color: #FF0000"><span style="font-style: italic">Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep<br/>I’m Not There, I Do Not Sleep</span></span><br/><br/>Nikolai dreams.<br/><br/>He’s deep in an ancient forest, pushing his way through snow that comes up to his waist.  He’s been out here for weeks, and in all that time, the only noises he’s heard are his own labored footsteps.  The animals can smell what he is -- even the wolves avoid him.  No birds call, no bushes rustle.  Even his lungs, which once produced the comforting rhythm of his breath, have grown still.  The silence is smothering him, killing him more surely than the hunger that burns in his veins.  But he can’t do anything about either.  All he can do is trudge onward, envying those who have the luxury of lying down in the snow and freezing to death.<br/><br/>The sound of a shrill ringing jolted Nikolai awake.  Groggily, he groped for the phone on his bedside table.  He was probably one of the last people in the city who still had a landline, but he’d never adapted well to change -- his clients often joked about summoning him by carrier pigeon.  Picking up the receiver, NIkolai quickly recognized which client had roused him in the middle of the night.  Sebastian.  Nikolai certainly heard his voice often enough to make it familiar.  Cruelty and bloodlust were common among vampires, but Sebastian combined them with enough restraint to make sure that his favorite toys lived to see another day.  If they received medical help.<br/><br/>“Yes, yes,” Nikolai mumbled into the mouthpiece, his Russian accent still strong, even after fifty years of living in America.  “I am understanding.  I will be coming right away.”<br/><br/>Getting out of bed, Nikolai shoved a handful of unruly brown curls away from his eyes.  Then he pulled on his professional clothes -- slacks, a white dress shirt, and a jacket that looked like it had been in fashion around the turn of the century.  Finally, he grabbed his medical bag and made his way outside.<br/><br/>Unsurprisingly, Nikolai couldn’t drive.  But Sebastian had sent a sleek black limousine to pick him up.  As Nikolai climbed into the back of it, he reflected that there were advantages to working for psychopaths -- just as long as they were rich psychopaths.  And Sebastian did know Nikolai’s tastes.  A bottle of chilled vodka had been placed on the car seat, along with a decanter of equally chilled blood.  Pouring a mixture of both into the provided glass, Nikolai sipped his beverage while watching the city lights streak and blur outside the car window.  It was all comfortably familiar.  And after everything that had happened to him, Nikolai felt that he deserved a little comfort.<br/><br/>Soon, the limousine rolled through the gates of the tall stone wall surrounding Sebastian’s mansion.  Beautifully sculpted statues lined the driveway -- men and women, all undressed to reveal their graceful bodies, as if inviting the viewer to envy their perfection.  But Nikolai knew that closer examination would reveal the expressions of pain and fear carved into their faces.<br/><br/>When the limousine pulled up to the front door, Sebastian already stood outside.  He was a devilishly handsome man, with long dark hair and skin the color of bleached ivory.  Only his eyes, pale blue like two frozen lakes, hinted at the coldness in his soul -- if vampires could be said to have any souls at all.  Smiling, he ushered Nikolai into the long entrance hall, while explaining the current situation.<br/><br/>“It’s one of the new girls.  Rose?  Rosalie?  Something like that.  She’s quite exquisite, really.  A wonderful addition to my collection.  But you know how it is with the new ones.  They don’t understand how things are going to be now.  Sometimes they fight, or get scared enough to struggle...and then I have to show them that sort of behavior is unacceptable.  Quite unacceptable.”<br/><br/>Nikolai nodded, offering no reply as they descended down a long flight of stairs.  Sebastian was too classy to have a dungeon, even for those that he kept as slaves.  They lived in luxurious rooms -- gilded cages for doomed birds.  Halting outside one of the doors, Sebastian took a ring of keys from his pocket, then selected one and turned it in the door’s lock.  “Feel free to have your way with her, if you wish.  They’re always so pretty when they’re in pain, don’t you think?”<br/><br/>Again, Nikolai nodded, not wanting to offend his host.  But he didn’t share Sebastian’s opinion of pain.  Nikolai had become a doctor to try and ease people’s suffering, not savour it.  As Sebastian walked away, heading back upstairs, Nikolai drew a deep (and unnecessary) breath.  Then he placed his hand on the doorknob, trying to brace himself for what he would find inside.