Vampire

You are the first person I have ever revealed my true identity to.  Well, that is not exactly true.  You are the first person I have revealed myself to in the last four hundred years though, and that is for sure.  I am somewhere around seven hundred years old as I scribe these words, but the first hundred is foggy and the next few hundred were rather….odd.  I don’t really want to talk about those years.

I am here to clear up all the lies Hollywood and story tellers are putting out there about vampires.  Nobody has got it right yet.  The “Twilight” series outright enrages me and I yearn to murder everyone associated with that blasphemy.  Furthermore, and to wit, I want to conk Tom Cruise’s and Brad Pitt’s heads together like Moe did to Larry and Curly.  I really don’t think anyone would complain.

So, I am going to go all Myth Busters on all the lies and tales and stories and movies and TV shows ever produced and you, the reader, are going to be educated.  I shan’t suggest this will make you any less wary of my kind, but as you will see, the chances of your being attacked are slim indeed, unless, of course, they aren’t.

Day light.  Vampires can move quite comfortably in day light.  Although we are quite pale and can never actually tan, we don’t burst into flames upon contact with sun rays.  We just get sun burn very easily.  Like a lot of predators we do prefer the night to hunt for obvious reasons, but I’ve taken plenty of day time victims in my time.  We sleep in beds.

Killing.  This needs to be discussed in some detail.  Actually killing a person takes a fraction of a second, especially because of my physical and mental capacities as a vampire, but draining sufficient blood from the body takes a minute or two.  Contrary to legend, a vampire’s canine teeth are only for gashing arteries, but we can make them pop up immediately.  We use our mouths to actually suck in the blood and it is so powerful we literally draw the blood from the body at about a quart a second—but that gets sloppy.  Drawing at a slower rate of a pint a second is much more sanitary and leaves no mess at all.  The most important thing is that the blood be warm because it moves faster when it’s warm and because we can absorb it faster when it is warm.  A vampire can actually chew up some blood ice and get some nourishment from it, but it takes hours.  Once the blood gets into our systems we become slightly groggy and slow.  We can still move quite swiftly compared to a human, but our thought process puts everything through a dark haze.  When the haze wears off and the genetic content of that blood is fully matriculated, I can run seventy miles an hour and leap a hundred feet in the air—which I often do because it is just so much damn fun.

How does a vampire die?  Well, that is a good question.  First, they can starve to death, which is harder to do than you might think.  We can drink any animal blood if we so choose, but it can have deleterious effects due to the genetics.  We can also eat regular food.  It doesn’t do us much good, but we can eat a meal with humans, which make us much less suspicious as a species.  Death is usually slow for a vampire because we can go a year without eating anything and stay alive albeit weak and sick and mentally deranged.  Starvation is dreaded by every vampire.

If you can build a fire hot enough, and keep one of us contained long enough in that fire, we can be killed that way.  Vampires actually don’t even feel the heat.  They feel nothing that would be considered pain outside of starvation.  Vampires hate fire because it boils away the blood and induces starvation pain at a geometrical rate.

You can also blow a vampire to pieces with dynamite or any other powerful explosives.  We are just like humans in that respect.  Although we heal almost immediately from any kind of wound, there has to be something left to heal for it to work.  I can regenerate a hand in about an hour, but cannot regenerate my entire body.  The thing about a blown up vampire is this:  they scream for all eternity at a pitch only another vampire hears.

We don’t need air to breath, so you cannot suffocate us.  If you can put together enough electricity to make me explode, I will die a horrible death that way.  Poison, bacteria and virus’ can make me sick, but not kill me. My accumulated genetic inventory prevents this.  Basically, every last one of us lives until we die the only way we can die.

My eyes work like telescopes and I can see at night just as well as in the day, and I can literally see through drapes, thin walls and tinted glass.  I can smell you from a mile away, and hear you from two if I need to.  In fact, I can pretty much GPS anyone with just my mind and a bit of concentration.  I sense danger, and sometimes can influence the minds of attackers.

I am also well-armed.  I always carry at least three weapons, one edged, and a firearm, and usually a garret and some poison.  You never can be too sure of what you might run into nowadays.  Humans are crazy and getting crazier by the minute.

Vampires never stay in one place too long.  I feed at least once a month, and move so as never to establish a serial.  I am smart, too, and never leave bodies lying around for police to investigate.  Everything I touch disappears. I bury them, melt them, drop them in deep lakes or rivers, feed them to pigs—anything so as not to leave a trace.  So for, it has worked out rather well.

My area is the North American continent.  All vampires have areas.  It keeps us safer.  We manage strict population control.  Only so many vampires are allowed in the world at any one time and each one has a designated area.  No vampire ever breaks this rule.  You can travel into any other vampire’s area, but you cannot feed there.  It is a good rule to have.  And yes, there are never more than seven vampires alive at any one time on the planet.  I have no idea why.

Just like humans, vampires need money to survive, and I have tons of it.  I made most of it by stealing gold and gems and jewelry.  I have it stashed all across the continent, but I have investments, as well.  I won’t go into this too deeply.  Let it suffice to be said that I want for nothing and live better than anyone reading this narrative.  For the most part, however, I keep a low profile.

Vampires can be photographed and are reflected in mirrors.  We can become virtually invisible, but not literally invisible.  This skill is indispensable.

The birth of a vampire is a foggy event that occurs over about a hundred years.  At least, that is how long it took me.  I remember nothing of those years—nothing at all.  My first memory ever is my first feeding.  It did not go well.  By the end of my second century I had improved dramatically and realized better the tools as given me.  I’ve been kind of gliding ever since.  One day I became curious and endeavored to find my ancestry and that is when I met my second vampire. (The first one being the one who took me of which I remember nothing about.)  He was much more powerful than I, and had definite mental dominance.  He locked me in a dungeon with nothing but a violin and brought me a human every month for a decade.  During that time he schooled me in the art.  I awoke one morning to find a note and an open gate.  That is how I ended up in America, toting a Stradivarius and a purse heavy with gold.

Today, my primary home is in Ann Arbor, Michigan because that is close to Detroit and Detroit is known for high murder rates.  I hide amongst that dust when I am home, but I travel quite a bit.  I predominantly migrate toward warmer cities and avoid winter.  The cold doesn’t bother me it just makes hunting more difficult.  I also tend to stay near water as water is great for disposing of empty bodies.  And, I hunt females the most.  They are just easier, and there are more of them.  By the way, there are no female vampires.

It takes a few days, but a vampire can totally change their appearance and that includes hair color, height, weight, facial structure, eye color and musculature.  It is best to do this immediately after a feed which accelerates the process by threefold.  For instance, in three days I could look like George Clooney if I wanted.  I’ve never tried to change my race for obvious reasons, nor my gender.  Most of the time I maintain an athletic build, blue eyes and chestnut brown hair.  Females love this.

We can smell disease on a prey, as well as narcotics and alcohol.  Although the disease won’t kill us, it is just that healthy blood is better for us.  Why settle for less?  And, narcotics can affect a vampire.  I found that out the hard way.  A vampire can smell steel, gun powder and transistors.  We can sense when a camera has us in its view.

During the Civil War I migrated to Canada.  For every other war I stayed in the States, and for good reason—with the men gone to war it was a target rich environment for me.  Currently, with computers and technology the way it is, a vampire has to be careful.  Add to that the fact that so many humans are carrying guns; a vampire has to employ a level of stealth that will only get steeper over time.  Hence, it is better to lure your quarry into a pre-planned and scouted feeding area, which should be close to your disposal zone.

But, the absolute best thing about a vampire is the ability to fly.  Well, not really fly, but leap.  When you can reach a top speed of 70 miles an hour it is rather simple to launch yourself into the air, but you are relegated to a straight line trajectory.  No way could I negotiate a corner.  So, I have to be very careful when I fly.  Hitting stationary objects at 70 miles an hour is hard on the body. But, flying is a rush no matter how many times you do it.

I can throw a baseball seven hundred yards and hit a tomato can.  I once threw an apple from the top row of Michigan Stadium and hit Goldie Gopher (the Minnesota mascot) in the head.  The crowd went wild.  I hit a half court jump shot at the Palace during a Piston’s game and won ten thousand dollars—which I then donated to some Breast Cancer Society.  I have thrown one bowling ball in my life and when I did I shattered six pins.  I can crush a cue ball with my bare hands.  I even caught bullets in my teeth for a carnival for a few years.  It was just .22’s with reduced powder, but the crowds loved it.  I was called, Bruce the Bullet Eater.  I even boxed for a short time, but that business is so slimy even I couldn’t take it.  So, now I pretend to be a jewelry wholesaler and college student.  I’ve been going to the University of Michigan since it first opened its doors over a hundred and fifty years ago.  I don’t know why.  It’s just fun, I guess.

I am trying not to assume anything here, so I will tell you I cannot go to a doctor or be examined by anyone with any medical knowledge.  They would know right away that something is amiss and probably raise quite a fuss.  The “no heart beat” thing would give me away immediately.  Oh, and the no breathing thing.

I have studied Kung Fu, Greco-Roman wrestling, fencing (extensively) and Thai kick boxing.  I don’t know why.  I never have to use any of those things, and practicing is difficult because I have to work so hard not to hurt anyone.  But, it is just so fun that I cannot resist occasionally committing a few murders just to show my stuff.  I don’t feed on the humans; I just flip them into oncoming buses or toss them off tall buildings.  One time I threw a girl ten floors up, and landed her like a feather and without injury on top of an office building.

As a vampire I actually find my biggest enemy is boredom.  After all, I am somewhere around seven hundred years old and have done it all repeatedly. You name it I have done it a hundred times or more.  This is why I like technology.  It helps keep life fresh because new stuff is always coming out and I am a latest and greatest kind of guy.  Even with that I have to really press my imagination to discover new ways to amuse myself.  I have done some fairly stupid stunts due to this, and if pride were a vampire trait, I suppose I would have little.  But, I have no conscience nor empathy nor scruples or whatever.  All vampires are like this.  We are not egotistical we are just one hundred percent self-centered beings.  Humans are just a food source and toy.  You are here for our nourishment and amusement.

Which brings me to my favorite day of the year and that is Halloween.  I spend a month getting ready for it every year.  I don’t buy or sew a costume.  I become a costume.  I feed well three days before, and always take my Halloweens in a northern city.  I don’t kill anyone on Halloween night, but I do try to scare them to death, and that has happened a couple of times.  I was a meth head one year, and beat in this guy’s windshield with my fists and he had a massive coronary.  Another year I went as an escaped gorilla and tore up more stuff than you could shake a stick at.  I really like Halloween.

I have been married around forty or fifty times. I really don’t like doing housework and cooking and running errands and the like.  Wives are great for that kind of labor.  All vampires are good at sex.  I mean, after a hundred years you pretty much know everything there is to know about pleasing a female.  Vampires never really have orgasms, we fake them when we sense the female coming.  I can go all night if I want to, but I am bored to death with sex and only do it to keep my cover.  I have killed every wife I ever married.  I just can’t take the incessant talking.

Once in a while I will spot a male with genetics that I desire, and I take them.  I kept one in my basement for a year one time.  I’d take a pint or so every couple of weeks and keep him well fed and healthy before feeding his carcass to some hungry pigs at a farm I own in Dexter.  I sell those pigs wholesale.  You may have eaten one.

It is best to put a bit of a scare into a human before feeding on them, but this is risky and I don’t do it often.  It gets their heart rate going and makes it easier to draw out their blood.  And yes I have jumped out from behind bushes and yelled, “Boo!”  The absolute fastest way to draw blood is to hang the human upside-down, but it is very messy and takes time.  I only do this rarely and just to break the monotony.  It’s fun when you can let them scream and beg for their life.  I once made a girl eat a live frog to spare her life, and took her anyway.  You should have seen the expression on her face.  Priceless!

Spur of the moment thing I entered Tough Man contest in Texas one night and it was a memorable event indeed.  All you have to do is sign a waiver and wear 16 ounce boxing gloves and pay a hundred dollar entry fee.  There were three, three minute rounds and a thousand dollar purse.  I threw nothing but body shots and within forty-eight hours of my fights over half of my seven opponents died, another had a stroke and another couldn’t move his arms.  Of course, I never cashed that check, but I did run off with the promoter’s daughter who is currently wedged under a log on the bottom of a river.  The trophy resides on my mantle.  For some reason I just didn’t throw it away.

I am the world’s best impersonator. Chris Walken is my favorite target. I can do him better than anyone.  I do impromptu impersonations at bars and clubs all the time.  People love it.  And yes, I have shape shifted to fit the voices and have had great fun doing so.  I am not going to talk much about this because it would freak the reader out.  I have impersonated surgeons before, you know, just to get a feel of what it is like to operate on a heart and a brain with a whole cast of support staff and all of us wearing masks.  I have graduated from the U of M medial school three times, after all.  I make mistakes on purpose just to watch the team freak out.  One time I “dropped” a scalpel into a patient’s eyeball blade first.  That kind of stuff I am sure you don’t want to read about.

I am not going to tell you which one, but I was a passenger on a jetliner that went down in some swamp land in Florida.  The swamp part saved many of the passengers and I was one.  There was no warning.  I got injured quite severely and had to take a couple of survivors to generate enough energy to heal, and then I had to sneak off into the swamp and find a way out.  I still fly.  I figure it is statistically impossible for me to crash again—at least for fifty years.

I can fight off a Great White Shark, even in the water.  I went to Miami one time and met some people who had a boat and invited me out because I was telling them what a great sailor I am, and the next thing I know we’re in open water.  Some friends of theirs had joined us so there were six people on board.  The spare female was a blind hook up for me, I guess.  Anyway, I disabled the GPS, sabotaged the radio and radar systems and then started disappearing people from the boat.  Of course, I was feeding on them and then throwing them overboard, but I played dumb and encouraged panic.  When the boat owner realized everything was broken and we were in fact lost I got to slap him silly until he calmed down.  I took the blind date girl first because she was the easiest.  The boat owner went next.  Everything after that was just a blur.  I remember we ran into another boat and there was an explosion and a fire and then this Great White Shark has me by the leg and he is going deep.  He was very surprised when poked out his eyes and bit his gill.  I swam back to South Beach a couple hours later and the crowd went wild because I was holding that shark’s head in my hands.  In contrast, I also beat up a kangaroo at a county fair in Alabama.

I went through this phase where I loved throwing rocks at cars on the expressway.  The goal was to hit the windshield and cause an accident.  I did this at night, of course, and on less traveled stretches.  They would never see it coming and my best was a triple endo of an Escalade doing 90 down a rolling hill.  I would run away at 70 miles per hour and laugh like a little mischievous child.  Semi-trucks were the best.   Sometimes I would just stand in the middle of the expressway so the driver could see me throw the rock.  Rolling over semi-trucks never gets old.  But, my all-time favorite is cop cars.  I keep peppering those even after they stop to investigate.  I can tell it makes them quite angry.

I love riding bikes.  Not only are they an excellent means to discover a city, which is where I predominantly stay, but they are easy to steal and discard, as well.  I couldn’t tell you how many humans I have took from a bike.  I can make a bike go over a hundred miles an hour and I can get there in less than five seconds.  I prefer mountain bikes because they are sturdier and have better tires for what I do.  A well- oiled bike doesn’t make a sound either.  I like bikes so much I started collecting them in 1917 and have hundreds stored in a climate controlled storage garage in Arizona.  Of course, none of these have been involved in a crime of any sort.  I bought every last one of them.  The collection is worth close to a million dollars.

I prefer edged weapons and crossbows.  I carry guns, but carrying a gun and a silencer and an extra clip become quite cumbersome, so I just carry a 1911 Colt and an extra clip for emergencies.  My primary weapon is a knife I made myself.  It is high carbon steel and the blade is an inch wide and double edged.  There is no hilt, it is seven inches long and it is perfectly balanced so that it can be thrown accurately.  I keep it wherever it is easiest to conceal depending on my attire.  Sometimes it is in a sheath on my back by my neck.  Sometimes it’s on my ankle.  Sometimes it is up my sleeve.  The point is, you would never see it coming and could never recover from the wound it leaves.

So, yes, I usually come from behind.  Most of the time I will reach around from behind and grab your forehead, twist it to the side exposing that lovely artery in your neck, make the slightest of incisions with my razor sharp knife and start sucking like an industrial vacuum cleaner.  Oh, and I do none of this standing still.  Within a second of my grabbing you, we are off to the races and your feet are not touching the ground.  If for some reason you can and do resist, I break your arms.  Well, actually I do that anyway.  It is just a prudent thing to do.  Finally, I will take you to the bottom of a river or something, and jam you under something and leave you for the fish.  You will have experienced excruciating terror and pain for about a minute or so.  Usually, by the time we find some water you are a lifeless corpse.

I find it distressing that I really can’t take out some humans that need to be eliminated from the species, for instance celebrities and politicians and many corporate types, for a start.  I, as a vampire, am immune to petty prejudice and discrimination.  I have no political leanings either.  Hence, my judgments in this regard are for all intents and purposes, infallible.  But, the attention drawn from taking humans of note is just too much risk to take, so I avoid them all for the most part.

The younger the better, but there is some math involved.  I want blood quality and blood quantity divided by risk, which means I typically want a female between 105 and 125 pounds and no taller than five feet and eight inches,  (By the way, pro tip, females in high-heels are the easiest to take.) and under thirty years of age.  I never take fat people because their blood definitely isn’t top shelf.  Just kidding, I take fat people, but only draw a pint or so.  They are just so easy I find them hard to resist.  I never take old people.  Their blood is full of all kinds of bad substances and is just old.  I never take the crippled for obvious reasons.  I took a nun once and got a bad headache so no more of those.  I accidently took a transsexual one night and that was a disaster.  I threw up for hours afterward.  I never take prostitutes for obvious reasons.  So, there you have it.

You probably think this whole story is nothing but macabre fiction based on other fictional stories.  You may think I possess a sick mind and poor writing skills, but there is no way I am a vampire.  You are convinced.  Maybe I am a killer or even a serial kill—but no, that would be stupid. What do you really know for sure?  You are a finite being, a mere mortal in every manner and mean.  You read this story because you hoped it might entertain you, and if you got this far it has.  But, I am going to give you much more than a story.  I am going to make a pledge, as well.  Keep this in mind, my Reader, there is no hit counter on this story.  This is important.  It has to do with probability.

I pledge that several of my readers are going to be taken.  You will lead me right to your door when you click off this page.  I pledge this as well: you will see my face before I kill you.

Boo!