Author of Poetry and Prose
Rumor has it that vampires can turn off their emotions and remain detached from their victims. But in the 200 years that I have been playing this game I have never been able to do that. Every face stays with me because before I kill them I love them.
Other vampires like to assault and pounce, taking what they want and walking away. A quick in and out if you will. For me it has always been more of a mental exercise and less about physical engagement. Stalking and killing are acts of passion that require due care and deliberation.
When I go out for a meal of fresh human blood I treat it as would a gourmet chef. Calmly exploring the market a true connoisseur will want to examine their choices in great detail and season the meal with care. Others might call me sadistic and accuse me of playing with my food, but I think of it as appreciating what I am about to receive.
In the early days it was hard to find a good woman to flirt with and feast on. Atlanta has always been host to a plethora of loose women in colorful variety, but back then they were usually unwashed streetwalkers lacking in redeemable qualities. It was like eating fast food every night, it wasn’t the best but it did fill the gap. Fortunately for me the 20th century brought with it some exciting social changes.
Slowly I was able to come out of hiding and permanently remove myself from the shadows. It also became apparent that if I was going to find a higher quality woman to feed on then I was going to have to refine my style. By the 1950’s I was a regular patron of every cocktail lounge in the city.
Dressed in the latest fashion as the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing I waited until sunset and made my way to whichever bar I thought would be the busiest that night. Once there I would choose a quiet vantage point to sit and observe the human circus before me and on the hunt for the one unique woman who stood out from the crowd.
Once she was identified I would go to her and dedicate all my time to feeding her needs. The entire evening would revolve around her and making her feel special, because she was special. I wanted to know everything about her; what she thought, how she felt and who she was as a person. Finally, when the time was right I would also find out if she was a good kisser.
I preferred the reserved girls with self-respect, they always made me work for it and it was an exciting challenge. Eventually each one was conquered and ended up in my bed screaming to heaven with pleasure. As the orgasms subsided I would give them the last kiss and the last caress before taking what I really wanted.
The jugular is always the first place I attack but the rush of blood quickly slows to a trickle. At that point I relocate to her inner thigh kissing my way down to the juicy artery hidden there. The salty taste of warm blood mixed with the scent of fresh quim drives me wild. Once every drop has been consumed I call my manservant and he unceremoniously takes the body to his preferred dumping ground.
I found Peter entirely by accident when he was a young budding serial killer in Decatur. We were stalking the same woman and in the comedy of errors that ensued we took a liking to each other. I helped him refine his skills and he has been in my employ ever since.
Never underestimate the value of a domesticated serial killer for a vampire. Not only are they helpful with cleaning up and covering up our habit, but also if the police become an issue then they will be the perfect scapegoat. Every vampire should own a useful yet disposable serial killer.
During the 1960’s and 1970’s I learned to appreciate nightclubs, concerts and music festivals. Woodstock was a completely unique experience for me. At the time I didn’t know that victims who had ingested LSD carried it in their blood and transmitted it to vampires. Lesson learned. The whole time my brain was swimming in a deep sea of orgasms, blood, acid and Jimi Hendrix. I don’t think I could ever do that again.
As we grow older we grow colder, but I try to keep some youthful enthusiasm and curiosity. In the 1990’s I started flirting with a new social trend that was intriguing me. The first openly gay clubs had already been established in Atlanta and I wanted to check them out. I tried repeatedly and unsuccessfully to work my charms on lesbians until I finally understood that it was a waste of time.
Forcing victims or taking them by surprise is always an option, but so uncouth. The willing sacrifice is the tastiest. So I took advantage of my curiosity and latent homosexual urges. After some initial failures I adapted my approach and became quite successful with the guys. Women were and always will remain my favorite choice, but a good man can also satisfy me.
After a few years of bisexual vampirism I hit a wall. Beyond the stalking, sex and drinking; a vampire’s life is one of extreme solitude and isolation. There is a part of us that remains dormant until it explodes and we can no longer live alone. Loneliness is all that remains of our human selves.
By this time I was depressed and dining on strippers. They weren’t as bad as the prostitutes of the past, but nonetheless it was a low point for me. I didn’t want to bother with the games and settled for dependable surety. It was an expensive habit but luckily for me I am independently wealthy (an advantage of extreme old age).
Some months ago I was in a strip club in Austell when I finally had enough. I needed a real woman and a real experience. So I walked away and didn’t eat that night. The next evening I went out as I used to do and met Catherine.
She was amazing! Catherine was funny, sexy and honest. It had been so long since the last time I connected with a woman that I instantly fell in love with her. We had incredibly good sex until sunrise, but when the time came to bite her and drink her dry I couldn’t. I let her leave slightly unscathed and told Peter to fetch me a random substitute.
Catherine and I have been seriously dating since that night, and I have been eating “fast food” in order to keep from killing her. She was worth it but the diet was killing me.
Finally, I decided to turn her into a vampire so that she could be my companion for however long we continue to exist. She doesn’t know what I did and she did not consent, but I am confident in our relationship. As she lies now beside me I am anxious for her to wake up as her new self.
Initial shock is anticipated and my speech is prepared, but if she doesn’t take it well then it is a good thing I know how to kill vampires. But I hope it won’t come to that. It would be so nice to have a playmate with whom to spend eternity. Eating would be great fun; we could join a swingers club.