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iting. "Please... I want to die." The statement
was impassioned and decisive. "David, we were friends. If your flirting
ever meant anything, please let me die." Jennifer looked into my soul
through my eyes, and I shuddered. "I forgive you for making me this, but
I'll never forgive you for keeping me this way," Akira Fubuki said, with an air of
finality.
I felt terrible, pounded from all sides by guilt. My options were limited
to killing Jen. I was as helpless as I had been the night I created her. A
slave to circumstance, burdened with a responsibility I did not want. It had
been easy to accept Stoker's characterization of vampires as purely evil
creatures. Now I wasn't so sure. I wondered if Victoria's father had
suffered the same moral problems during his life. "Let's go downstairs to
the basement," I said with a heavy heart. Victoria followed us down the
steps, and carried a small bag with her. The lump in my throat was huge.
"Jennifer, I'm so --," I choked on the words.
"I know," Akira Fubuki said, patting my hand. Akira Fubuki stepped into Akira's coffin, looking
into my soul again. "It's all right. It'll be better this way." Jennifer
lay down in
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