posted on Jul, 2 2014 @ 10:14 PM
I was a creature of the night. I had become death itself. It was perhaps my existence as a vampire as to why I was not happy. It was a long, unkempt,
and unhappy story as to how I became what I am and how I am. Some of you would like to hear it, perhaps to become like me, and it is exactly to that
crowd I leave my origin of creation unknown to those who seek it.
I don’t really want them to become like me. It is not freedom. To see what I see on a daily basis is a nightmare happening in real time. No one
wants to think of themselves as the villain, but there comes a point in a person’s life where they must truly examine themselves. It was about the
fourth or fifth time the hunger overcame me during those early days where I realized I was not on the side of God, the holy father, Christ, and all
his merry angels. No, I was one of the damned, an abomination on the inside, a face like a chameleon, and an unquenchable hunger. I was beautiful when
the situation called for it, terrifying when otherwise. The moment of time I begin this tale at, I bore the look of the grotesque.
“Please, mister. I’ll give you anything you want.. Anything! You want my watch? My credit cards? My car keys?!” In front of me stood a nice
midnight snack. Of course, this would only be the beginning. One never satisfied me.
“You are at home, Gregory. You are watching television. Your wife is sitting next to you. Your children are playing quietly.” I used the eldritch
speak, and his eyes grew dull. He nodded affectionately to kids that not were there.
“Honey, could you fix me a glass of water? I’m parched, dear.” It was a poor choice of words.
“So am I.” As he suffered in his catatonia, I bit into his jugular. The carotid was far too high-pressure, like shaking up a soda can, but the
jugular gave a nice, slow, and reliable flow. I drank his life from him, and shuddered. It was bliss, heavenly bliss and tranquility of such a nature
that the human cattle will never know. I felt warm inside, alive again. That awful nagging hunger was gone. My chin was dripping with red liquid far
sweeter and more intoxicating than wine could ever be, and I loved it.
My hunger sated, I walked the streets, laughing, playing, bar hopping. From place to place I roamed, looking not for a victim, but for a friend, for
human company. I meandered into a place called the Green Hog, and glanced around. It was at medium capacity, but the crowd looked young, happy, full
of life. Well, most of them. My eyes were drawn to a sullen lad and his female companion. I could see what he wanted, the hunger in his eyes, the
devotion, the lust. He was serious about her, I knew at a glance. And so I walked over towards them. The eldritch speech was a powerful thing, capable
of great evil, as well as good.
“Hello, sir, ma’am. I couldn’t help but notice how lovely a couple you are. I’ve taken the liberty of having a bottle of wine brought out to
you. I hope you enjoy.” I stared into their eyes, and they stared back, not sure what to make of me. Then, the woman spoke.
“We’re not a couple. This is my best friend, Peter. We’re just having a nice dinner together. It’s my birthday, in fact.” As she delivered
her dialogue, Peter’s eyes became downcast. I could tell their friendship meant more to him than she thought.
“There are two of you there. You are a couple, at least in the literal sense of the word. Peter, I know what’s inside your head right now. You
love her. And... Miss, you will find you love him as well.” She looked dazed, but the elder voice held great power. Later I would regret what I did
for the man. He was a psychotic, an obsessive. Six months later, I read an article in the paper. He killed her, and put a shotgun in his mouth. If I
weren’t already one of the damned, I certainly would be after that bit of manipulation.