In a dark place, in a dark room, a boring existance contemplates itself

Alfred was alone. Like most of his unlife, this was not a new situation. Even when he had learned of the various spirits and ephemera of the various planes of existence, he quickly learned how to keep them out. The last few years seems have spent the waking hours, have spent in libraries.
How long has it been since the research has any meaning ? Was after the wild goose chase from the Vykos? Was it after realizing that more than half the "leadership" of the Sabbat willing serve an Antediluvian they proclaim to despise? Or when I began to spread that Antediluvian's will to help guarantee the continuous of of my existence? Didn't I become a Necronomist so that I would no longer fear death? How is it the more I "progress" on my studies, the more I despise death?

The dark silence held no answers. It echo only further questions, questions that would only lead to more unanswerable questions ad infinium. Thankfully he a kitchen remodel and patio construction to oversea. Leaving his chambers, Alfred changes, clothes, faces, and personas and heads over to one of his havens. He looks forward to idiots in Ace hardware smocks, hoping they will offer him a distraction for his responsibilities and if lucky maybe even a new deck.