Vik began to scan the pages of the book. He ran past his family's lineage and the early history of his father. His father, a brute of a man, had not a shred of compassion in him. King of Vallerian, he followed the line to the throne. The sharp memories of his father torturing him as a child, along with his two older brothers, pierced through Vik's mind. Those accounts of torture were written here. So was the death of his entire family. All of a sudden, Vik collapsed onto the floor; fainted.
Vik ran to the nearest railroad that headed towards the City of London. He could just as easy have run there, but he needed to be swift and unseen. He noticed a train pulling out and he quickly jumped onto one of the box cars. He climbed in and found a dark corner to hide in, until he reached his destination.
The city around him grew quiet when night fell. He had only just awoken from slumber a mere two hours ago. Dreams and nightmares of his past came rushing to him like wildfire spread, taking over mother nature. Vik sat on top of the tall bank building as he always did watching intently at the people below. He needed to feed.