So you've decided to stay. Good.
*She runs her tongue gently over those two sharp teeth* However, did I mention payment? I'll need a small blood donation at the end of my tale; not everyone gets to hear about it.
*Laughing wickedly, she positions the light at the side of her chair and shifts into a better position, wrapping her arms around her knees.* Kidding. Besides, I want my prey to run.
*Then, her elfin face grows serious and she begins*
This is a tale of a hidden life, where one hides in the shadows on one side and bathes in the light on the other. This is a tale, exposing the myths of vampire history and adjusting human perceptions of us nocturnal creatures. What you see on TV, may not always be true. Buffy, seriously, is an idealist.
I was born a vampire, one of the Old Blood. Aren't many left. Actually, the correct spelling would be vampyre but as the English standard progresses, many of these old 'y's are changed to 'i's. Pity.
How I survived as a child, I can still remember. The comfortable scent of fresh warm blood that told me food was near and my ma always told me that I would stare at her unblinkingly until she brought me the freshly-killed prey. Those times, people were abundant. A few missing in the cities wouldn't hurt, especially those huddled along the streets. People never missed them, anyway.
I grew, fast, with every drop of blood I took in, I grew a little more. However, genes do affect vampires and I soon reached my height limit, which wasn't much to speak of. *Here, she sighs a little regretfully*
But it helps, however, masquerading as a child sometimes. So easy to deceive, so gullible. They'd never understand, those street bullies trying to extort money from children, how at one moment, they'd be glaring down at a hapless child, the other, flat on their backs with my eyes staring innocently into theirs, holding them captive before they experienced the tiniest pinpricks on the side of their necks.
*She raises her head and looks deep into your eyes calmly and you see a layer of dark over another, over another, stretching endlessly within. With a slight effort, you turn your head away*
The tiniest effect, that one.
They never tasted good, those boys. You'd never tell the difference but to us, there are different standards of blood. Animal blood, so bitter it'd bring tears to your eyes and of course, so much harder to consume. If you've tasted your own blood before, human blood has a slight sweet metallic taste but even so, different people have different tastes, pardon the pun. The more wicked they are, the less palatable their blood is.
The one true jewel of blood is that of an innocent, or a young naive soul. As for an infant's blood, I've heard others describe it as drinking pure fiery sunset, with pale wisps of elusive pink evening clouds mixed within, flaming and twisting its way down your throat, filling you both with the intense heat of a raging forest fire and the utter iciness of standing drenched with sweet lagoon water in a cool spring breeze.
Maybe it's even beyond words, I wouldn't know. I've never done it before myself, drinking an innocent or an infant's blood, that is. Standing in the fire, or water, I've done that many times, just to enjoy the sheer comfort of it. And as I was saying, obviously those boys didn't taste very well but...*shrugs* blood is blood and one should never let it go to waste. As one of my friends once put it, "War is such a waste. Think of all the blood that's spilled." or something like that and well, I do agree.
My first kill came soon after I grew to full height. It was comparatively easy, just a quick dagger to the throat, a swift slash from behind, or a deadly evisceration that stretched from neck to groin. I chose the dagger to the throat method. Less messy.
After all, if you eviscerate the guy, think of all the internal guts and organs spilled all over the floor and of course, that terrible wastage of fluid. Not economical, that. And of course, it'd cause an uproar all over the city, which was what I really didn't want.
*She says serenely* Oh, don't look at me that way. He was dead drunk, I was thirsty, hungry and there wasn't any other prey in sight. No sane living creature would be lurking around alleys in the dead of the night.
*You mutter a comment under your breath and she chuckles* Stop using the word 'dead'? Sure.
Anyway, he was so big-sized I couldn't possibly overcome him by force and he was so drunk that he was already half-hypnotized already. Staring at him just didn't work. But think of it this way, he didn't know what happened until the dagger hit him. One thing though, that blood was so saturated with alcohol I myself became slightly tipsy for a few moments before my system cleared up.
My ma? Oh, she'd left a few years back. Her responsibility was over, she'd brought me up and if I hadn't learn to be streetwise soon, I'd be in deep shit. 'Tis the nature of vampires and admit it, sometimes you really don't want your ma breathing down your neck when you're stalking a prey, right? *She laughs, her fangs becoming fully visible for a while*
But I digress. After that heady first kill, I made the mistake of succumbing to the temptation too much and began to kill all my prey. Haven't you noticed? It's a good feeling, to know that you held that one frail single life in your grasp and could cut the twine of life at any moment, to feel the clean cracks of bone as the spinal column snapped at the neck, to feel the blade slide easily into soft flesh that gave entrance so well and feel the warm splash of the dark red liquid splatter on your hands and drip silently onto the floor, before you lowered your head to the still-warm body and drank thirstily, the heated blood flowing down your throat, filling your stomach.
'Twas a heavy mistake and I paid the price. Too many corpses were found lying around and people began to fear the night, locking and bolting themselves in their doors. Then again, one should always fear the night, especially if you're not a nocturnal creature like my kind and others. There are too many things to be afraid of in the night and fear keeps one alert, and subsequently, alive.
Police began patrolling the streets and they had guns. Guns couldn't kill, but they sure could hurt pretty bad. I'd been way too careless, not finishing my last victim off properly. Stupid, stupid, stupid... *Her eyes flash angrily and the light flickers, casting long twisted grey shadows in front of you.*
Damn, I knew I should've broken his neck...but I was in a hurry and eviscerated him instead. Crude method, but quick. Forgot that it was a main street, forgot that sometimes a guy can be sliced nearly in half and still survive for quite a while. Another reason why evisceration ain't that effective sometimes. He told somebody to watch out for a child. I had to leave that city quick and seek out refuge someplace else.
*She adds contemplatively, eyes staring far off into the distance.* 'Twas in 1970-something. England, I should think. I was barely 15 earth-years. Vampire-years, I'm not even 1 year old yet, not even now.
*She suddenly stops speaking and looks over at you again, dark eyes sharp.* Getting bored? Well, you have a choice again. To listen further, or to stop?