On Thanksgiving Day 1996, Roderick Ferrell, 16, from Murray, Kentucky, led a pack of kids to Eustis, Florida, where he killed the elderly parents of a former girlfriend. Ferrell had lived in Eustis for a year and had then returned to Kentucky, where he'd gotten involved with a fantasy role-playing game called Vampire: The Masquerade.

*She held him in her eyes, every word drifting into her mind like a song. A tragic lonely song.* His voice, "You know, I've told you the truth, you know his intentions, yet you seem paralyzed to break free from his hold on you. *holding her face in his rough but gentle hand and wiping a cheek with his finger* I have to let you go, it kills me to see you sacrifice yourself to that monster, but it's out of my hands...."

The moon was shining brightly.

Swift and sure the prow of the night-boat parted the silvery foam.

The last rays of the late afternoon sun fell slanting through Ernest's window. He was lying on his couch, in a leaden, death-like slumber that, for the moment at least, was not even perturbed by the presence of Reginald Clarke.