Hello. I am here, no-one else, there is no need to
be afraid, and especially not of me. I won't hurt you, and I won't let you come to harm. I only want
to tell you my story, that is if you're willing to listen. Some people, they take one look at me, and
scurry off in the other direction. Why? I don't know!? Maybe they don't like the way I look. Maybe I
scare them. Maybe I do it on purpose. Hah! I do know why they run. When I try, I am terrifying!
Picture this if you will. A lone man, about twenty years old, just standing on a busy street corner.
Standing there, leaning against a building wall as if he owns the whole goddamn street, if not the whole
world. It's dark outside, and there's a lot of traffic going by, both vehicle and pedestrian. He stands
there quietly by himself, just smoking a cigarette, and occasionally glancing up with a knowing smile.
He wears a long dark trench coat, so long that it actually appears as a cape, sometimes flowing gently
in the wind behind him. His hair is long and dark, flowing with the cape, and his bright green eyes stand
out from his white, white face. Ah, his face. Almost totally drained of colour, as if he has just received
a great emotional shock. He is tall, perhaps six feet, and is slim. He is there, He is a vampire,
He is me.
As I have said earlier, I am here to tell you a story. It is not a story that has happened
already, but a story that is unfolding even as we speak. I do not want to tell you about my life as a
mortal, or my life as a vampire. I do not want to tell you about my introduction into darkness and the
adventures that followed. I want to tell you about my death. Not that it has happened already, but that
it soon will. Hopefully. I longingly seek my own demise.
I see the shock in your face. You wonder
why I would want to do something like this. I am a vampire! All the world is mine for the killing! I
am the Prince of Cats, the greatest creature to ever live. But living is the problem. You see, I am hundreds
of years old, and in my view I have done it all. I have killed to such a degree to make Vlad the Impaler
weep with jealousy. I have experienced such pleasure as to make the greatest lover of all time seethe
with frustration. I have loved, hated, feared, and been feared. I have actively sought my death for some
300 years now.
During the French revolution was when I first sought to take my life. I acquired
a forgotten guillotine in an abandoned French warehouse. Oh, the feelings of elation I felt as I carefully
hoisted the wicked blade into its upright position! And the joy I felt at cautiously feeding my head
through the tiny hole! "This is it!" I thought. "Now I will finally be gone!" I was wrong. The PAIN I
felt as the blade whistled through my neck, causing my body and head to fall in two separate directions.
My body twitched in spasms of pain and I felt this pain in my hazy, disassociated brain. I lay there
in two pieces, numbed by the terrible shock in my neck, just waiting for death, sweet death, to take
me. It didn't. I lay there for over an hour, waiting. Nothing happened. Finally, I forced my feeble body
to lurch up and find my poor head. As I shoved the bleeding stump back onto my shoulders I felt the tendrils
of life and nerves connecting me once more, and I knew I was whole and living again. In the rage that
followed, I killed and killed and killed. I killed the young and the old, the wicked and the innocent.
I drank blood until I could drink no longer, and then I just snapped necks, for the purpose of causing
death only. I killed to achieve in others what I could not achieve in myself.
It is not an easy
business to kill a vampire, as I discovered after the incident with the guillotine. But that did not
deter me, I am a resourceful vampire. I next tried to kill myself with drugs. It was not an uncommon
sight to see a person deliberately exterminate themselves with a drug called heroine. I obtained a very
large quantity of this heroine from a man I had seen selling to others. I asked him what was the proper
amount to kill a man. He looked at me and indicated a small amount. I asked for the amount required to
kill twenty men, but he just looked at me strangely and walked away. Oh well. I went into my room and
proceeded for two hours to melt that strange powder into a liquid and inject it into my arm. As I continued
to do this I experienced a strange euphoria, well, not unlike the pleasure of killing. But of course
not as good as the wonderful moment that the life spark of the victim passes from their neck into my
greedily drinking mouth. But good nonetheless. After I had taken enough by my calculations to kill 150
men I was feeling decidedly, as the mortals say, "doped out". Problem. I wasn't dead yet. I ambled out
of my room at a leisurely pace, with a big grin plastered upon my face. I found the dealer, drew him
peacefully and gently into my arms and sucked the life straight out of him. I was in heaven. Not literally
of course, because I was still alive. I couldn't go on my killing spree because I was too happy. The
next night however I rose in a terrible rage and doubled the killing that I had done earlier, when I
had failed last time. I, I the vampire, was still alive and killing.
As the years passed I tried
new and more inventive ways to kill myself. More poisons, impaling, bleeding myself to a dry husk, but
none of them worked. I was still, a live and functioning vampire. I pondered upon new ways to kill myself,
possible ways that I could cause my demise, and found that I was avoiding a certain thought. I know what
you are thinking. How does a vampire die? What is the most surefire method in which to slay a vampire?
By the light of the cold and unfeeling sun, of course! Why had I not thought this thought before? Why
had this so obvious and perfect thought not been made clear to me in my long search? I like all other
vampires dread the light of the sun. At dawn, when I go to sleep the first few weak rays of light burn
my eyes like sharp needles. Imagine, just imagine what a whole day in the light of the deadly sun might
do to my body! Could it give me the peace that I am looking for?
I realize that up to now I have
not truly sought death. I was not ready to die. I tried these other crude methods of torture in order
to kill myself, but of course none of the worked. I am a vampire, and only the light of the sun can kill
me. I am now ready to do this thing, to truly kill myself. I will chain myself to a building, binding
my arms and legs so that I cannot escape, and let the pure, cruel light of the sun cleanse me of my life.
This is the last that I will talk to you. I do not want to see you any more. I want to be dead. I want
to be free. But know this. If for some reason, some fucked up reason, this method of death does not work,
and I find myself living next night as I am living this night, I will come to YOU first in my blood frenzy.
Why, you ask? Because to you I confided all my hopes and dreams, and if my dreams cannot exist than neither
can you. Go now, and pray in whatever god you believe in for my speedy death.
