Dullsville Apartment


The fifteenth sigh huffed through Jen's lungs. It had been twenty days and fourteen hours and seventeen seconds since she had come to this apartment building and the overall area. She had just been grounded in the lobby by the super. After getting another yell from the super she wanted to just watch the wall paper peel. She hated this place. No place seemed duller than this one. She had already tried introducing herself to everyone and the people were as dull as the painting. She sat up rubbing her rounded face and scratched her olive skinned arms. She felt like she was getting a rash from being so bored or maybe she was molting into a boring person.

Her hazel eyes wandered around the lobby as they became fixated upon a screaming super. She hopped up from the couch walking over. "Hey there...what got your tighty widies in a bunch?" She joked as the super flicked his head and glared at her.

"If you must know, you little trog, the new super duper Mr. Fizzy soap has arrived late."

"Sounds so terrible." She shook her head sending not a shred of interest nor emotion in her voice.

"I know! The imbeciles actually think that getting the Super Duper Mr.Fizzy soap is not in their job description. So as general and super of this apartment I shall place myself in the line of duty and..."

"Finally take a bath instead of drowning yourself in cologne?" She said with the largest and fakest optimistic voice she could scratch out of her throat. The supper glared once more at her with beedy little eyes as he pursued his small little lips. "No...and that is top of the line cologne to you little trog. Now if you will excuse me I shall be back in fifteen minutes. And if I see you sneaking anywhere near the private elevator. I'll make sure you have the cockroaches in your bed." He grunted a sound at Jen as her light brown bangs blew as he huffed a disgusting breath on her.

"Oh that's right I forgot. Your the roach king. You should really attend to your loyal subjects on the way back. They get mighty hungry putting all that cologne on." She smiled a bright smile as he hissed at her walking out of the front door he disappeared. She laughed rolling her eyes. But his little dull and un-eventful gave Jen a clever idea. Sure she would risk the roaches but that seemed more entertaining than just sitting around here and watching the wall paper peel. She looked outside the glass door watching his car puff smoke and crank gears it wandered away.

She grinned a mischievous grin running into the hall, her converse shoes scuffed against the carpeted floor to the private elevator. The elevator to the private floor seemed to have been cut and pasted from a five star hotel while the 'normal' elevator looked like it could come crashing down any time. She clicked the button and placed the numbered code she had watched the super place in while she had walked by the other day. The elevator opened and she quickly rushed in closing the door. Jen tapped her heels together, excited to see what was on the thirteenth floor. She watched the number dial ding more and more as the contraption got closer to the floor.

The elevator dung loudly as the bronzed doors opened for her. She smiled softly placing her ipod head phones into her ears as she scrolled through her classic ipod. She might as well place some exploring music to explore the darkened apartment, plus she needed a light.

There was a time in which the night had been enjoyable. The stars used to glisten with a knowing light. As if they could lead the most weary of minds into the right direction. One of those weary minds used to be Christopher, in his youthful days. The moon used to accompany the stars, shining upon every land. It could enchant everyone and be spoken of in the ballads of the years. There was a time he had been one of the enchanted as well.

However, the stars no longer held him in a trance. They could die with a simple flicker and he would not noticed. There had been a time he admired them greatly. A painting or a poem, he praised them. He thanked them for everything they had brought him. He compared the moon to the beauty of the life and gift he had. Youthful and naïve, he knew not of what may become of him.

He knew not of what he had became until it was already too late. Now, he scorned the stars. He hated the deepest betrayal they had brought upon him. Their fate had given him one he did not wish for, even when he no longer wished upon the stars. The moon he hated to look at it, having nothing to compare to it.

Nothing had become so great as the darkness of the night, which grew within him. It was the only time he felt at ease now. The darkness was the only thing that resembled what was left of his nature. The light had long since died within him at the betrayal. Even worse than that, his regret lingers with him. It burns at him every time he closes his eyes or looks at the paintings he couldn’t bring himself to burn.

Now time is his newest mockery. It passes all so slowly, as does his existence. He waits, for what he doesn’t know. It’s supposed to be a journey over time, but it feels more like a slow death march. What he was marching to, he had yet to figure it out.

So now, in the late hour of the evening, he strolls back and forth through the library. Long ago, he had struck a contract with a money hungry landlord. He convinced him of some renovations to the third floor and private security, which included an elevator. Of course the man was quick to blow the large amount of money when it was ready, but here Christopher can still reside to the day.

A few candles flickered on the desk of the library. He paced back and forth, wearing a black tuxedo. Yes, it was out of the times for the present day, but an outfit he would never retire. His piercing blue eyes scanned the page of the faded book in his hand. It was an author he had always admired, even if most people thought him to be absolutely crazy.

“And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling -my darling -my life and my bride,” He murmured slowly aloud to the empty room. Bookshelves lined the walls of the small room. They were packed full, all of them in chronological order of the years, then broken down by the authors. Thinking of the words, they were simple but so elegant in his mind. Christopher ran a hand through his messy black hair, which had an unruly handsome look to it.

“In the sepulchre there by the sea -
In her tomb by the sounding sea.” He finished the poem aloud and let out a sigh. It was so easy to feel the agony of Poe in this work. The words flowed brilliantly together as well. It was fresh in his chest as he closed his eyes, letting the words linger in his mind.

A loud buzzing from the next room over brought him out of his reverie. Quickly, he snapped the book shut with an irritated look. The rest of the apartment was nearly pitch black, but he could see with ease. A glowing illuminated the walls of the adjacent room from several computer monitors. Grudgingly, he put the book back on the shelf before wandering into the room.

Looking to the computer screen flashing for his attention, he noticed the main entrance motion detector had been set off. Originally he had the elevator open up to a short hallway, leading to another door. In that hallway, he had installed a security camera, which was motion sensitive and followed what it focused on. The lights in that hallway were motion sensitive as well. They would turn on as soon as someone entered. The classic wooden door in front of them bore a large white and red sign, which read “You Are Now Under Security Surveillance.”

Usually it was enough to scare off just about anyone and they would go back down the elevator. Christopher remained hunched over the computer screen and frowned at the young woman in the hallway. She was attractive, but looked like just another nosy inhabitant. He waited to see if she would leave or dare to venture further…

(Ah my post looks like nothing compared to your beautiful masterpiece >_<!!!) (Edit


As Jen approached the door she saw the lights flicker on. She turned off her ipod placing it in her jean pockets. Her hazel eyes looked over the sign on the door. "You....are...now...under...Security Surveillance...hmmm." Jen contemplated as she looked back at the elevator. It was still there open for her to run back in to be a good little girl and listen to the rat faced super. She then turned back to the ominous door. "Or I could I actually be a braver person by going through this door." She mumbled as she pushed the door open, ignoring her gut instinct to go back.

This was her chance to not live the norm. This was her other door. Her secret world. Who would notice? Maybe behind that door was someone interesting. If that person was interesting enough to have motion sensors and such an ominous sign it was worth the trouble. She unplugged the head phones of her ipod turning on the light as she slowly entered the dark place covered by the ominous door. She held onto her heart feeling it pump slightly from such excitement it almost couldn't be contained in such slow foot steps. But she had to respect whoever 'did' live here. She may have been a curious little thing but she knew her manners. She slowly entered her way into the apartment waiting for something to happen.

The door opened with ease as the woman entered the apartment. It swung wide and as it did, the lights of the first room flickered on. It led to a spacious living room. A respectable chandelier hung from the high ceiling, sending out glimmering rays of light from the ancient crystals. The room itself seemed as if it had taken a major leap back in time.

There was no oversized leather sofa with a HD television plastered against the wall. For that matter, it wasn’t a tacky plaid printed sofa with a singular radio on the coffee table. Like a scene from the early 50s and 60s. No, this time period went further behind that, before telephones for that matter. The room was decorated with authenticate eighteenth century furniture.

A hand carved trim, having a dark red faint print reaching to the ceiling, split the walls. Below the other half was an off cream color. The floors were hard wood and covered with a large creamy color rug. It had a foreign stitch and pattern to it. Along one wall was a maple bureau bookcase with many little drawers and intricate patterns carved along it. A bookcase sat on the other side of the room, filled with small antiques. A stand in one corner held an old record player, the kind with a golden blooming flower from the top.

A fireplace was the focus of the room. It was large and took up nearly half the north wall. The mantle around it was thick with a dark hand carved pattern. However, it looked like if it hadn’t hosted a fire in many a years. A small coffee table sat a few feet away from it. Around it was an arrangement of chairs and sofa, all of which had a dark red fabric to match the scheme.

Several paintings hung along the wall. Many of them were of landscapes, painted with bright and careful detail. A couple of the paintings were covered by thick black cloth as well. Six doorways led off the main room, two of which were doors.

From the doorway on the far left side, the figure of Christopher appeared. He is almost a hauntingly beautiful image. His pale skin was bright against the light of the room in contrast to his lightly combed hair. His facial features were defined and angular, similar to his slender build.

Immediately his eyes settled on the woman with a deep-set frown. He started to cross the room and spoke firmly as he did, “You are trespassing and should probably leave before the police arrive.” His tone was firm and determined. Visitors like this would only cause trouble. It would be easier to kill her, but his thirst wasn’t great right now. Besides a local kill could only cause problems and upset the landlord…

The words he had said didn't take the full blow that was intended on Jen. She was too busy admiring his good looks and the full step back in time she had just token. If she had lost control of her body her jaw would have fallen and she would have passed out. But she had more sense to hold her body and wait till she was in her room to pass out. Her body jerked as she shook her head a bit to snap her out of the dazed dream like state. "Well maybe you shouldn't place such an inviting sign. But I'm not really that much of a threat I was only trying to introduce myself to all my neighbors. I'm new around here and I was wondering who was living here." She smiled softly extending her hand out in friendship.

She smiled brightly. "My name's Jen." She really didn't mean such a harm to him. She really was just trying to explore through out the apartment. Didn't he understand how boring this disgusting place was? Even the neighbors didn't say hi to her when she was forced to bake for all of them. "I'd have something baked but I had to throw out the last batch of brownies since all the neighbors weren't really all friendly." She hoped that she wouldn't be in trouble. "And come on why would you want to get me in trouble its not like I'm a disruption or breaking your objects. Please no cops please please!" She placed her hands together in prayer pouting softly.

The stun was evident on the young woman’s face. Christopher had a fair idea what it was from, part of it was the room and the other reason was probably because of him. It wouldn’t be the first time a human had been transfixed by him. Once she snapped out of the daze, she didn’t run away though. He had expected her to mutter an apology and leave. How bothersome when she didn’t.

His eyes narrowed upon her as she protested the sign and her threatening appearance. Was that sarcasm she was using? It had been so long since he really interacted with a human like this. Usually it wasn’t this hard to scare them away. It meant one of two things. She was either really bold, or just really clueless. The frown on his face didn’t budge as she smiled at him.

He had to admit, she was attractive. However, he would never admit that aloud. He tried not to fixate too much on the color of her eyes. As she extended her hand, he looked down at it but made no move to shake it. His hands stayed tucked behind his back. Jennifer was her name apparently.

Christopher bit back a cringe from his face at the idea of her bringing food. The last thing he wanted was that vile stuff in his apartment. It was bad enough that she was here. As she was begging for him not to call the police, he let out a heavy sigh before looking back up at her. “I don’t care how curious you were or what inspired you to come up here,” He answered in a blunt harsh tone.

“I don’t want your brownies and you did, indeed, interrupt my studies with your rude and unannounced intrusion,” He said with a glare before adding, “I would appreciate it if you leave, right now.”

The jig was up. Jen's exploration had been cut short. She didn't want to be on his hate side for long. She sighed softly shrugging. "Fine, didn't mean to interrupt your so important studies. Sorry I bothered you. Didn't think you'd be interesting either." She really was disappointed he was as dull as her neighbors. He may have had a different appearance but he was just like them. She made her way out sighing softly. "So much for making friends in this dull place." She sighed heavily once more making her way back to the elevator.

Jen had a feeling things would be worse now. Knowing that tenant he would've probably called the super by now in all his rat face glory. She shook her head softly feeling even worse to hear him start squeaking. She placed her headphones on scrolling down to instrumentals. She might as well hear something to cheer her up as she went down the elevator.

The reaction he had been waiting for finally came. Perhaps she was just a little more stubborn than most people. She started to apologize for the intrusion, even if he felt that there was still sarcasm in her voice. It was rather untasteful for woman to use sarcasm, he thought, but perhaps the times had changed. They must have, he thought, judging from the way she was dressed as well. There was a time a woman would not be seen in front of others without wearing some sort of dress.

Oh how the times have changed and yet he could not. This timeless tomb would forever haunt him. He tried not to get too lost in his thoughts as he listened to her. She began to turn away, back to the elevator. He followed her as she did, mostly to see that she does actually leave, instead of snooping around as soon as his back is turned.

“this dull place…” It rung in his mind as he thought about it. That was a feeling he knew all so well. Perhaps she was just human, but she could still feel the same hollow tomb they were in. This apartment complex was not for the light spirited. She seemed to be one of those and it would probably break in time because of this place.

Acting on impulse, his hand shot out to the elevator doors as they began to close. They halted a moment before opening again. He looked at the young woman, almost unsure of himself for the moment. He would probably regret this decision along the line later, but he was just acting with the impulse for now.

“Reading helps the dullness,” He declared, this time in a softer tone than the one demanding her to leave. “I have a collection of books. You may borrow one if you ever need to,” He offered to her. It was a generous offer on his part. Generally he didn’t let his books out of his sight.

Without saying anymore, he stepped away so the elevator doors could close. Then he retreated to the safety of his apartment, locking the second door behind him…

A sincere smile came to her lips as she looked up at him say those words. Before he left she decided to say something. "Hey! I take back what I said. You aren't as dull as I thought you were." She laughed softly looking at him. "And I'm not sarcastic for your information!" She said as the elevator doors closed and brought her back downstairs. So now she didn't feel as disappointed in the person.

She wasn't sure why he was isolated but she had a feeling it was best not to pry. She had learned from many people that people that kept themselves were best not removed from their environment. She had a feeling he may have not liked it up there but it wasn't her place to start bugging him constantly. She'd take her time and visit in a few days so she didn't seem like such an annoying pest like she was to the rest of the apartment complex. But their was one thing that tenant didn't know about her. She did read. She read plenty enough to know it kicked the boredom from her life. Now she was filling her time with doodling and writing. But that didn't seem to be enough.

The elevator doors opened and she walked up the stairs to the third floor. She didn't think it would be a good idea opening up in the fancy elevator to her floor. She didn't want the super suspsicous. He was better off fussing over the Mr. Fizzy soap and the roaches he was plaguing on her. As she entered her apartment she softly called out. "Mom! Dad! I'm home!" When she entered the apartment she saw her mother typing away furiously on her laptop muttering the words. "Mm-hmm."

Jen then invented something. "Hey mom, I met king today."

"Mm-hmm."

"He had blue skin just like one of the people in the book 'Five People You Meet in Heaven' " She crossed her arms as she watched her mom respond in uninterested tone. "That's nice dear. Your father is still at work so your in charge of your food." Jen rolled her eyes as she made herself a sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips. Anything seemed better than this empty shell of a life. It really seemed like she was living by herself with no one to talk to. Her parents were so busy with their next project it just seemed that they had drifted from her. And moving just seemed to have made the work even worse for them. She placed her meal on her desk as she entered her room and flopped on the bed with a huff. "Maybe I may make an earlier visit to that guy. He actually seems to have some interest."

A chuckle rumbled through Christopher’s lips as he wandered back into the living room. He had heard the words from Jennifer with ease and would have even if she didn’t shout. The unfortunate part of some of his senses was that he heard and smelled everything. Now and then, in the past, the other tenants in the floor below him got rather riled up. He would have to listen to their savage swearing and backwards thinking. Most of the time the arguments didn’t even make any sense.

Amazingly though, the arguments that were important seemed to be handled rather quietly. He could only recall a few eviction notices that actually got out of hand. Most of the time the landlord just didn’t seem to have any problem giving the police a phone call. Over the years, Christopher had adopted the similar attitude with intruders to his apartment. The police were more than willing to help him out due to regular generous donations.

This time he had made an exception with Jennifer. Usually the other tenants that had gotten up here in the past were rude with a superiority complex. They always demanded to know what was going on, as if they had some sort of right claimed to it. Others came up there with accusations of black magic or voodoo. Christopher usually killed those ones merely out of irritation.

However, this one was different and he had no urge to kill her. He found her amusing in an interesting way. The claim to no sarcasm made him chuckle, since he was sure she was using it in half the conversation. Regardless of that, he wandered into the security room. Hitting a few keys on the main computer, he set the alarm system for his absence as he always did.

“Time for a night on the town,” He murmured aloud with a smirk. Gathering his own set of keys, he flicked off all the lights of the apartment. Having the girl in the room was a reminder of the parched burning in his throat. Locking the door behind him, he exited down the private elevator.

Silently, he waited as the machine descended down to the ground floor. As he did every night, he left the lobby without much of a second glance from anyone. No one ever really seemed to notice his presence and he enjoyed it that way. In the back of his mind, he wondered how many nights would pass before that girl shows up at his door again…

Jen was feeling the isolation begin to cramp around her as her mother's clicking and typing echoed into her room. She grabbed her guitar beginning to practice. She was definitely already in need of a change of scenery as her mom yelled from the kitchen counter. "Keep it down already! Geez its like a train reck coming from there."

Jen let out a load teenage groan as she stopped playing. "That's it...I'm leaving." It had already been six to ten minutes and she was already leaving again. She grabbed her guitar, music notebook, and her keys. She left the apartment and walked down the stairs instead of taking the death trap she called her local elevator.

She remembered on the way to the dull apartment she had seen a coffee shop. She had seen people practicing and that seemed like the perfect place to get away from her working environment. She quickly passed the lobby and ran through the door. It took her fifteen minutes dodging traffic and another fifteen to actually get to the place. But the walk was worth it when she saw the empty coffee shop and the empty comfortable chairs that were always taken in Starbucks. She placed her guitar on the chair and the rest of her things as she walked to the counter.

She ordered a cappuccino with extra foam. As she waited she made her way back to the seat to practice. She opened her music notebook turning to a song she just absolutely loved Broadway by the Goo Goo Dolls. She practice the first chorus hoping her cappuccino was almost ready. She needed the caffeine boost to help her survive the boring apartment. Jen didn't believe that such a place existed that dry wall peeling was the most interesting thing in the whole building. She was starting to feel as if she was cursed by an old witch bent on destruction of the free world. She shook her head as her overactive mind went back to concentrating on the cords.

After drinking a cup of cappuccino and practicing her songs she soon went back to the apartment wondering about the man she had met that day. She wondered why he was always alone. He seemed like a likeable guy...in some strange way. Before she knew it she the next day had come. She wondered at what she should do. Should she visit the man who was a hermit? Or should she stay here having her mother yell at her for playing too loudly.

Jen finally made up her mind as she grabbed her guitar and a book. She should at least give him something if she was going to borrow from him. She walked down the stairs using the elevator that was specially used by the tenant while the super wasn't looking. She held her guitar and a book she hoped he hadn't read yet. He looked like a well read person at first glance. As she walked down the hall after the elevator opened. She had a feeling just barging in would be a bad idea so she decided to knock first, not wanting to risk another scolding by the man. She knocked on the door holding her guitar hoping he wouldn't start getting upset at her again. If that would happen she'd rush back at the elevator and forget about the man.

The evening had passed by like the countless before it. Christopher quickly found a young woman in the night. She must have been walking home late from her waitress job. She still wore a uniform and barely paid attention to where she was going. It was just another working class person that probably wouldn’t be missed so much. So he killed her and mangled the body so the cause of death wouldn’t be apparent.

It was around four in the morning when he finally returned to the apartment complex. There weren’t any tenants in the lobby to notice his entrance at all. Of course, it was an ungodly hour for the fragile humans. Even the landlord paid little heed to his arrival. It was the way that he preferred it.

So he slipped up the elevator and into the depths of his apartment. A good part of the day was spent with resting in his bedroom. Even though the sunlight didn’t bother him, he still slept in complete darkness. After that, he arose and busied himself with little tasks around the apartment.

It was sometime during the day, though, when he got the unexpected knock at his door. He was in a different room so he didn’t hear the motion sense go off in the security room. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, he went to answer the door. Today he wore more casual clothing, since he wasn’t sure if he was going out or not today. His jeans were clean cut and designer picked. For the moment, he wore a cream colored turtle neck with it.

Opening the door, he was a bit surprised by what awaited him. “Hello Jennifer,” He greeted politely and curiously. “You’re curious again already?”

"What can I say a girl like me isn't so easily entertained by dry wall and peeling wall paper." She shrugged softly seeing he was nicer. He must've gotten sleep. He seemed much nicer than the first time they met. She entered his apartment with her guitar and a book that she was going to lend him if she borrowed one of his books. "You can just call me Jen." She corrected hearing him call her Jennifer. She didn't think it was useful to use her full name when people really just called her Jen.

"So do you have a name? Or am I going to have to call you hermit?" She joked softly, already have given him a nickname. She wandered around his apartment curious how he could've gotten so many antiques in such fine condition. "You have a beautiful apartment. I've never seen so many antiques that were actually consistent with the theme." She had visited many homes that weren't at all consistent going from modern to Asian to renaissance. Jen placed her guitar to lean on the wall not sure if he would want her to put her old guitar on the nicely kept furniture. She still was a guest in his home and she was being careful with what she said and did. She didn't want to get kicked out. He was the one person who actually was interesting.

Christopher raised an eyebrow at Jennifer to her response. It wasn’t very far from the truth of this place and he didn’t blame her. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with this place either, but it offered comfortable privacy at least. He hadn’t had any serious problems so far. Her answer was simple and to the point.

Curiously, he watched her as she let herself into his apartment. He stepped aside to get out of her way. Normally he would be insulted if someone just let themselves in his apartment. This time he was more curious to see what she would do though, so he let it go for the moment.

She requested for him to call her Jen, instead of Jennifer. He made a mental note of it and responded softly, “If that’s what you wish.”

Her next question caused him to raise an eyebrow again. Hermit? Was that the nickname he had earned now? Little did she know how far from the truth it was. Least it was one of the more pleasant names he had, in comparison to the other ones. As far as he knew, not all hermits were carnivorous killers or psychopaths… along other things he had been labeled.

“My name is Christopher,” He answered her calmly. “I’m really not much of a hermit, actually.” He couldn’t help but correct that point, even if he didn’t elaborate on it.

At her compliment to his apartment, he had a knowing smile on his features. Consistent to the theme… Yes, she had no idea that he knew exactly what to get. Most of these were originals as well. He wondered if she realized just how much some of these things would be worth today.

“Thank you. I made sure to do my research before I bought them,” He lied with perfect ease. It wasn’t too from the truth, but on one hand not quite close enough to say so. He looked at the guitar she leaned against the wall but didn’t spare it much of a second glance. It wasn’t even a noteworthy one. She probably came from a working class family.

"It must've taken some time to actually do research." She put her hair into a low pony tail to get the hair from falling in her face. She looked back at him giving a soft smile as she heard his name. "Christopher, that's a nice name." She began to wander around the living room but staid away from the rooms. She wasn't about to go into the rooms unannounced. "So how long did it take you to collect all of these pieces?"

Jen held onto the book hoping there would be a book she would like in his collection. "So where do you keep your books?" She asked curiously walking to him looking up at him. "And I'll make sure not to call you a hermit anymore." She laughed softly knowing he didn't seem to fond of the temporary nickname she had given him.

Christopher watched the young woman with an interested curiosity and a reserved nature. He kept his hands in his pockets and didn’t do much else as she commented on his research. He chose not to say anything about how long it took to get all the pieces. His answer probably would have been suspicious no matter how he answered.

If he said he got them in no time at all, then that would be odd. It took time to collect antiques and ordinary people did not gather such a massive quantity like this in a short life time. He appeared too young to be someone who spent their life collecting as well. So he also couldn’t say that it took him years and years to get them all.

He considered his words carefully as she put her hair up into a pony tail. “Thank you,” He murmured quietly in response to her comment on his name. At her question, he came up with a believable lie. “A few years. I inherited most of these, family heirlooms. The rest I picked up now and then through travels,” He answered in a calm, collected voice.

He noticed the book in her hands and wondered curiously what was up with that. He had been the one suggesting to her to borrow books. At her question, he grinned and nodded, “Follow me.” He put on an appreciative smile when she said he wouldn’t be called a hermit anymore.

Moving to the entry way on the far left, he flicked on the lights of the library as he walked in. The walls were lined to the ceiling with shelves full of books. The newer ones were on the northern wall and they seemed older as they were arranged toward the southern.

“Here it is,” He announced gently. In the middle of the room was old style lounge chairs with a night stand in between them. “Just don’t touch any of the books unless I say so. Many of them are very old and fragile,” He warned gently.

She heeded him on not touching the books unless he said so. She looked around the collection surprised how someone could collect so many books. Though her room was filled to the brim with books he had places to put them. "I've never seen such a big collection. It almost seems like you could run a rental service all by yourself." His collection was very diverse from what she had seen. She then remembered a book she had been dying to read but had found it was not in the small book store of the town.

"Actually do you happen to have...Robert Louis Stevenson's Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? I've been meaning to read it but the book store doesn't have it here. And I doubt they would order it for me. The person at the front was already in such a bad mood I didn't think about asking him." She looked up at the books she clearly couldn't reach to see if he had it. "So exactly how many books do you have, Christopher?" She asked, still shocked that so many books could fit in a room. Though she should have expected it. He had a full floor apartment. She also wondered if others had come up to see him or if he had family.

The neighbors were very rude so she had a feeling he had to kick them out more than once. Which could have explained his mood when he saw her snooping around. Though she didn't blame him. People who wanted privacy always got the sneaky neighbors, including her.

Christopher grinned with pride as she stared at his book collection. It was one of the things he was very careful and extensive with. A lot of pride and work went into those books. At first, it was rather easy to collect them, since he started with the first publications of most of the now classics. But as the times passed and the books were printed, especially with recent technology, it was harder to keep track of them.

At her comment about running a rental service, he cringed and was grateful she was looking at the books so she wouldn’t see that. There was no way he could imagine letting humans handles his books. They would rip and tear the pages or spill their vile food all over them. The books would fall apart in no time or be forever lost to him.

She asked two questions that picked up his interest. Of course he knew exactly which book she was talking about. He was around when it had been published and had the privilege to see some of the first stage plays. Her second question he didn’t want to answer. This was only some of the books. The number would probably frighten her if he told her.

“Ahh, you must be referring to Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” He murmured as he moved to the bookshelves. At first he started on the northern wall. “The name was changed by Thomas Russell Sullivan in 1887 when the first stage play adaptation was opened in Boston.” As he spoke, he looked for the books he had that were published in 1886.

“I have one of the original published copies,” He announced her to as I spotted it, but I didn’t move to take it out of the shelf. There was no sense risking damage to the precious manuscript. “Then I have a couple more recent publications…”

“1912…” He spoke as he moved along the room near the shelves, spotting them. “1945…” He passed the book, as they grew more recent and durable. Books in the eighteenth and seventeenth century were nothing like they are today.

“Ah, here’s a 2005 copy,” He arrived at the southern wall and pulled it out of the shelf in a smooth motion. Turning to Jennifer, he held it out for her with the shiny colored cover gleaming for her to see.

Jen saw that he dodged the question. Maybe he didn't want to answer it because he was embarrassed at the massive number. She didn't mind, she wouldn't pry on it. "Wait a minute, you have the original copy? Aren't original copies hard to find?" She couldn't even believe it that he actually had the original copy. "You must've paid a pretty penny for the original copy. Things like that usually aren't easy to find. You must be a master at finding things like this then" She looked at the 2005 publication. The cover was shiny and brand new. It was almost untouched.

"Oh!" She then looked at the book she had in her own hand. "I thought it'd be rude of me to just borrow something without lending something to you. Though knowing you, you'd probably have it." She extended a hand showing a golden and dark brown book titled The Lying Tongue by Andrew Wilson. "Its a bit on the weird side. But when my teacher assigned this book I think I was reassured that not every teacher wants to bore us to death and become mindless drones." She then remembered most of the required reading they had. "Most of the stuff they make us read is probably the worst I have ever read. I know we're suppose to be well rounded people but not well rounded by stuffing are faces with books that clearly have no sense or no imagination."

The question from Jennifer brought a smirk to Christopher’s features. He had found the original copies through many various methods. Some of them had been bought directly from the publishing companies when they were released. Others were bought off a peddler’s in flea markets. Some were lent to him from old friends, but forgotten about later on. Some he found in the libraries of victims, he had taken for himself after killing off the owner.

There was an endless list of stories. Each book had a history behind it and that was part of the reason why he was so protective of them. They were a part of him and the only part he could really hold onto anymore. The part of him that had been as beautiful as the moon had long since been slain by ghastly betrayal.

His mind wandered briefly over this as Jennifer spoke. He hadn’t heard of this book before and it interested him a bit. Clearly, it was a more recent read since he hadn’t heard of the author or seen much publicity for him. “Interesting,” He murmured aloud, eying the cover the book. “I honestly haven’t heard of that author. He must be a recent one.”

“Most of my collection is rather old,” He explained, partly answering her other question as well. “I inherited a great deal of it and since then I’ve taken quite the interest to the classics. I have a couple of connections that provide me with new additions whenever I need them as well. I suppose I’ve been so wrapped up in the classics that I haven’t indulged in any of the recent works.”

"The classics are definitely something good to immerse yourself in. And its better than immersing yourself in Twilight," she paused to make soft gag sound," and mediocre novels then calling them better than Jane Austen. Now that definitely shows how dumb society has become and illiterate." Jen hated books that immersed themselves in popularity when actuality the books couldn't compare to their predecessors. "I almost choked when I heard a fan of Twilight say that the series was better than Dracula. Dracula! Dracula is the ultimate of classics. And here is this little snot nose pre teen who probably thinks magazine articles are fine literature. It just rubs me the wrong way how society idolizes people who don't have the talent that I see in other books or in many other things that deserve that chance to be recognized." She then realized she had gone off in a ramble. It was her sore spot. She really couldn't help it. She hated when readers talked down on the classics that actually were good reads.

She knew that classics would always reign. They were the beginning. No one lost their beginning. "Sorry..." She blushed softly looking down. "I-I tend to do that. I'm a real book nerd. I think I live, breathe, and eat books." She laughed softly placing a stray hair behind her hair before looking back up. "You must think I'm crazy." She shrugged not knowing what other movement she should do. She just blurted half of what her mind thought and usually most people gave her the 'look'. The look was very similar to the 'you are walking in your underwear' or 'you've got something stuck in your teeth'. Jen looked through the book he had given her smiling once more as she looked through the pages. She would enjoy reading it.

The paper book laid in Christopher’s agile hands as a time long ago was brought back to surface. There was an eerie sensation in his mind as he stood in this library. Jennifer ranted about the illiteracy of the popular books of today. He listened in to her words with a composed mask. While he heard every word, his mind was reflecting upon something else. There had been a time he had a conversation like this. The names were different back then, except for Dracula.

He was a different person back then as well. He was able to laugh at the thought of such mediocrity being idolized. Perhaps he would have offered his own joke and a jest to the subject matter. There was a life in his eyes to do that. His energy used to outlast the dying flickers of the candles, as he had spent so many hours in a study similar to this.

Yet, the names were different and the woman standing before him was as well. He wasn’t the same man that would try to convince her to dance to the music of the moonlight. The moonlight was blocked by the curtains, even if the woman was an unsettling reminder to the one he could not hold anymore. She was similar in a few peculiar ways. He tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind. It wasn’t the time for such memories to surface.

“I understand. I don’t mind,” He said finally in a soft voice. Her rant gave him something else to think about, instead of the face in his mind. “But yes, unfortunately, the youth of today don’t have an inkling of a clue to what real literature is.” A smile tugged at his lips.

“What else do you read besides vampire books and such associated with them?” He then asked, with a slight teasing tone in his voice.

Jen narrowed her eyes when he said that she read vampire books. She did not like being associated to vampire books. "I don't just read vampire books." She pouted, crossing her arms. "I read mystery, suspense, horror, and romance." She smiled triumphantly. She read a lot and she was proud of it. "But not trashy romance. The actual romance novels with plot and no sex." She made sure to point out. When people heard she read romance novels they always mistook her for a 'secret pervert' who read dime store novels. Honestly she was not that kind of girl.

"This generation is definitely not going to help." She laughed softly as she held the book in her hands. She was going to enjoy the book. "I never asked but why are you staying here? I'm sure their are better apartments than this place."

A smile lingered on Christopher’s features as she watched Jennifer’s reaction. It was interesting how defensive she got about the vampire books. Of course, he found it rather ironically amusing since she had no idea what she was standing in the presence of. On top of that, she was quick to ramble off the type of genres that she was interested in.

He could have been quick to rain on her parade, but instead he just smiled knowingly at her. All those genres she had listed were the elements of vampire books and gothic style writing. There had been a time when vampires and bloodlust was used as a substitute in literature for sexual lust. This just brought more humor to his mind as he thought about her explanation of romance novels.

Her comment about the generation caused him to raise an eyebrow while still smiling. So she didn’t consider herself part of this generation? How odd. As she asked about why he lives here, he moved to take a seat in one of the lounge chairs. Gently, he set the book she brought on the table next to it, speaking as he did, “I came here because I was able to reinvade it any way I desired, it’s quiet, and people don’t ask questions… except for you, of course.”

Feeling the need to get the subject of himself, he looked at her curiously. “Tell me, Jen, you say ‘this generation’ as if you are not a part of it… why is that?”

Jen couldn't help but smile when he told her that she asked question. "I'm naturally curious what can I say. One thing that didn't grow of me when I was growing up. My parents have always been busy in their work. So I've just basically fended for myself, trying to look through everything. I think being curious is actually a good thing. That just means life is never boring." She once again smiled as she found a chair like Christopher's and sat in it. She placed the book on her lap as she then listened to him once more. She laughed hearing that. She really didn't mean to not refer herself to this generation. It was just something natural she did at times.

"Well...how do I put this. A good portion of this generation would rather listen to ipods, have lower IQ and yet get into college, have higher IQ but colleges are to idiotic to accept them and never reach their potential, the good people that have talent are muddled by the people who have no talent, people care about money and are studying for jobs that require kindness when in reality they have none, and it all rounds up to lamen terms this 'generation sucks'. Oh! And I almost forgot people would rather starve themselves with low carb and protein diets and continue to die slowly. When really they should just walk off a building or have a giant piano drop on their head. " She crossed her arms after listing why the generation was bad

She shrugged softly sighing. "And I am none of these. Because I'm actually going into a job where I care about the people more than money. I have talent in writing unlike others. I want to make a difference and people would rather make money and do things faster. Everyone is too busy in their own world to acknowledge anything. I mean think about it something amazing could be right in front of their faces. Like a new discovery of some sort and their too busy to see it. I don't know but I can't really say that. Because who knows maybe their is something in front of me that even I don't notice."