His name is Suel Cummins, and long ago, he was mortal.  But now he is an accursed Nosferatu, condemned to spend his days in the bourbon-soaked tombs of New Orleans, and his nights being shunned by living and dead alike.

As a Confederate soldier, he fought at Fort Jackson.  But a mortar round filled his guts with shrapnel.  He was on the brink of death when the icy fingers found him; fangs buried in his throat.  He never knew the one who made him.

Soon he found his way to the occupied New Orleans.  He nearly perished in morning light, but a prostitute found him and led him into an abandoned bakery.  She became his first meal.  He cursed himself after this.

Gradually his confidence grew, and he next drained a southern child.  This caused him anguish... how could he pray on his fellow countrymen?  Soon he began to stalk the real enemy.  One Union soldier after another fell prey to his embrace.  He made a sort of uneasy peace with himself as he learned to enjoy being a monster.

When one of the bodies was finally discovered due to his negligence, Suel was contacted by another Nosferatu named Ygsmund.  He was shocked indeed to learn that an entire community of vampires already inhabited New Orleans!

Long ages passed.  He was there when jass was born.  In the darkness, he even learned to play.

He has haunted movie theaters.

He watched electric lights go up for the first time in New Orleans.

He has watched the flesh born and decayed seemingly in the wink of an eye...