Vampyric Desires

There is a time when a child may come to the realization that he or she is... well special. That time came early for me. I knew from the first that I was treated differently than Evarian. I looked different, and in those times different was not something to boast upon. My mother the poor kind and loving creature cared not about this. Though I believe that sometimes she was only trying to make herself believe that there was nothing wrong with me.
There was however something most inexplicably wrong with me. Today this is called albino I believe and it is caused by some deficiency of pigment, but in my times we knew nothing of the sort. I was born into wealth and nobility of sorts so the keeping of this secret was not complicated. Once when I was allowed to go out with my brother Evarian, I found that the sun burned my sensitive snow white skin.
My father persisted that it was not healthy for a young man to be sheltered up at all times, so I was taken into the city at night. I was made to wear a hooded cloak, so as not to rouse suspicion. My family was very tolerant of my circumstance, but the one thing they could not do was look me directly in the eyes. To this day only my darling Asharia can. But that is getting too far ahead.
As you can visualize like most albinos I have red eyes. Many slaves used to murmur of me being the devil, but should my father hear such talk they would be penalized. My father was never as proud of me as he was Evarian, and that hurt. I was habitually cast out form any kind of public emergence; therefore even at the ripening age of 17 I had no wife. Evarian took to love early with a charming lass named Evelyn. I was instantaneously jealous of him as I had always been. That was when the valid difficulty began. She was part of the family meaning she had to be introduced to me. Upon the very sight of me she screamed and hid her tender blue eyes. “Oh Evarian...Shadah cannot wed him! He is revolting!” she yelled.
I gave him the cruelest look I could muster, and ran out into the night cloak less. I never did go back home, and not because I didn’t want to. The next morning I was found in the inn and heaved into the town square. Angry cries that perplexed me were followed by the tossing of a limp body upon my feet.
“HANG HIM!!!!” was followed by the tossing of a coarse rope around my throat. The rising sun torched my pale skin. I was thrust high above the horde, thrashing and trying to comprehend what had been done. I saw Evarian standing below yelling and screaming. “My brother! He has done nothing, he has-”the last I saw was my mother descend to her knees wailing in anguish. The world dimmed black as various objects were pelting my lank body. To my great surprise I awoke only an hour after dark.
How could this be? Death is dead and I was most certainly not dead. Isis the all mighty must have known that I was innocent! I had been granted life! Or so I thought. I ran to my most glorious home to find my brother in mourning and my mother and father gone. I approached softly not wanting to alarm him, when a most peculiar feeling befell me. I wanted his blood! What an odd thing to crave! After all I had most certainly never tasted blood.