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The years passed. Untouched by age, he lived and did as his creator had suggested. Victim after victim, drink after drink, he tried to stop his hunger; however, it did not last for long. The tingling ache of emptiness crawled up from his gut until he could no longer stand it, and soon he would be out on the hunt all over again. He had never felt guilt for his murders. The power inside him reassured that he was above such emotions. Besides, he was the gate that opened their soul to his creator. He fed not only himself, but it.
