guess who finished al:vh
Henry Sturges was not a remarkable man. He was someone who was seen very little and heard even less, with gentle mannerisms and ever-present sunglasses. There was nothing to really set him apart to the world, and he preferred it that way.
He had been careful to erase himself from history, carried on only in the dim memory of other vampires. He had destroyed every letter, journal, picture- every trace that he had ever existed. All except one.
It would be an insult, really, let alone a federal crime, to destroy Abraham's carefully scrawled documentations. The life of a vampire was a lonely one, particularly for one such as Henry, and the ax-wielding hunter-turned-politician was one of the few creatures that he could count as a friend, threats and gaps between correspondence be damned.
So Henry knew immediately, of course, when Abraham had been shot, and where, and by had swooped in and removed any relics of the president's vampire-infested past and stored them in some dank cellar for almost a century and a half. True to his word, Henry had left his friend and Abraham had not laid eyes on another vampire for the rest of his life.
So it was with a heavy heart and more than a few regrets that he handed over those precious treasures on that bitingly cold January day. Everything was there- the journals, letters, names, poems, sketches, newspaper clippings- nothing had been omitted. And though Henry was loathe to relinquish the last few truly real traces that remained of his old friend, he also did so with a lighter conscience. The dusty documents and forgotten facts would be put to better use than sitting shoved in a corner. They would be read, remembered, rewritten. Someone besides he would know about this secret past.
And this man, with his doubts and questionings and roller-coaster emotions reminded Henry so violently of one Abraham Lincoln that he couldn't help but meddle. As he left that little shop in that little forgotten town, Henry Sturges smiled for the first time in nearly a hundred and fifty years.