I couldn’t sleep that night; thoughts of hatred pulsed through my brain. I hate the human society, thus I strike out at it in manners suitably horrific, gratuitous and violent. It’s odd how they would rather spend their money on athletes, musicians, and weapons than medicine, research and themselves. But enough of them, they make me sick.
I’m not human, nor do I wish I were. I take human form but am stronger than their feeble corpses, the only problem is the hunger…my blood-thirst. I kill for both political reasons and because I need their crimson elixir to sustain my life. I am a vampyre. Money is useless to me; I take what I want, when I want it. I checked my watch, it was only two in the morning. I could make a few more dolls before the sun rose. I grabbed my trench coat and leapt from the window of the abandoned mill I lived in. I put my headphones up as loud as they would go, I didn’t want to hear anything (including myself). The depressing sounds of a band called ”Deftones” related to my pain, the pain of depression. I was always depressed, it was some mental condition I was cursed with as a human. A burden I still carry, but killing helps me escape these pathetic conditions, something to take my rage out on. Nightclubs were excellent places to find victims, full of intoxicated humans who couldn’t tell up from down. I walked in and headed straight for the bar, sitting on a barstool as soon as I reached one. I wanted another female, it seemed to shock them more for some reason (kind of like killing a unicorn (to murder a thing of beauty horrifies almost everything)). After about half an hour had passed my “unicorn” sat down on the opposite barstool, This one was particularly beautiful. I engaged in conversation, eventually convincing her to take me to her house. It was right in the centre of the city, right were everyone would notice. She pulled her keys out of her purse and opened the door, walking slowly up the stairs trying to seduce me and make me climb the stairs in pursuit. I wasn’t interested but I still played along. She told me to wait in her room but as she turned to walk out, I pulled my trusty razor blade from my pocket and grabbed her wrists making a deep incision into each one, severing main arteries. She fell quickly but I caught her…I wasn’t finished yet. I took her into the bathroom, dumping her in the bath. Now I could finish making my doll. Out of my pocket came something I had wanted to try for a while, a needle and surgical thread. I closed her mouth and stitched her lips and eyelids shut, then I tied her hands and feet together tight with the surgical thread. It still wasn’t horrific though, I had to add something else. Quickly thinking of something I cut open her chest, spreading her ribs like a rack. After removing her intestines I filled the gaping hole with a child’s teddy bear she kept in her room. I put her intestines in the icebox part of her fridge figuring her parents (if she had any) might want to keep them.
I had to return home before the sun rose, other wise I would be no more. Home was the same as ever quiet, empty, cold. Unlike the average stereotypical vampyre I didn’t need a coffin; the floor was enough. Material possessions mean nothing to me, I keep nothing of sentimental value because I have no need for it (being sentimental is a human trait). All the windows in my “home” were boarded up to stop sunlight in its tracks. The dark is comforting, I do not fear the “things that go bump in the night”…I’m one of them.
Tomorrow brings another night,
Dusk will come and I’ll take flight,
Out into the darkness hunting for my prey,
If I ever catch something, maybe then I’ll play.