One

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THE VAMPIRES DIARY – PART TWO

I admit I do enjoy indulging in your books and films that are very loosely based on me. Though obviously I am rooting for the vampires every time. It always amuses me to see what new superpower you have bestowed upon me. Or what new limitation has been created that will be my undoing.

Unlike in the movies I cannot retract my fangs, and they aren’t like sharp dogs teeth as is often portrayed. They are thin and long and sharp both upper and lower, much more like a baby cat’s teeth. Or a snake if a snake had straight teeth. All predators have long sharp teeth for a reason. They work very well at tearing flesh.

In my unique case, if they are broken they will grow back in just a day. In fact I will heal very quickly from even the most serious wounds.

Even limbs will grow back within a month, and if I am able to hold the limb or piece in place, within a few hours it will have reattached itself. A few more hours and it will feel good as new. I do not know the how-and why-science of it. Again, it is just who I am and have always been.

But by far most incredibly, and what truly sets me apart, is that I seem not to be able to die. This of course, is the one ability that I have, that does cause me to consider what that really means. What and who I am, and why I am? Which, I have done for a very long time.

I have literally been cut in half, and though I am not conscious when such a healing is taking place, I will soon wake up whole again. I remember I was once drawn and quartered, and my pieces burned and scattered. Yet, like every other time, I simply awoke to find myself whole again.

I am not sure how this happens. It seems to defy logic, but that is what happens every time.

Once I was even thrown into a volcano. I remember every detail of the agony of my flesh melting away, then blackness. I awoke naked on a beach more than a thousand miles away. I was completely whole again with only the memory. Only three months had passed. So even if you can kill me, I am going to come back.

My greatest ability by far is in knowing that I cannot die, for long. I do not have to protect myself the way most animals do. I can act with confidence when I’m on the offensive, because ultimately I do not have to worry about defense. My survival is built in.

It is a great gift, but there are some times when I wonder, if it is not also a curse.

It’s the boredom that makes me say that. Though it does not last for long, as the thirst takes over very quickly. But after feeding and before the return of hunger, I have often experienced a feeling that I have lived for far too long. That I have seen, and done everything, and am tired of doing it; but I wouldn’t trade my life, and cannot imagine any other.

I myself am not sure how my body survives death. I do have theories, like perhaps my body gravitates to itself. Literally the molecules are drawn together from where ever they may be. Perhaps the elements of my body are denser or contain some type of element that behaves differently than those around it.

There are some other species that seem to have a similar ability to survive death, though on a far smaller scale. In their cases it is more akin to a very long hibernation, but still. Science in the future may be able to explain it? Not that I will ever be submitting myself to be studied by you.

Though I am doubtful myself, perhaps I am somehow from a spirit realm alive in a physical world, causing not all physical laws to apply? There are more things in heaven and earth…

The other explanation is not based on science at all. Perhaps I am a tool of God? Well, I don’t know, I could be? Maybe I’m an angel of some type, and for some mysterious reason?

It’s not for ego that I say this, only because I am very different from all other things on this earth after all. The whole I can’t die, and am hundreds of thousands of years old thing, kind of backs up my theory a little. So it does make me wonder occasionally if it is a blessing, or a curse given by a benevolent, or vengeful, God.

Perhaps it’s true that I am the monster. A demon who thirsts, and unknowingly works for the dark side. Though how would I know?

I suppose I have had my chances to find out. When one considers I was alive at the same time as Krishna, Buddha, Jesus, Mohammed, and every other man you’ve claimed is God.

But it’s a big world, and there was no way of knowing at the time, where to be to have a chance to talk with the right person and ask the question, and I know better than to go around telling people I’m not human.

I have been around people since before they walked upright. I know them very, very well. They have proved time and time again that they can be very clever, and dangerous. To an enemy, themselves, and every other thing on this earth. So I stay off their radar, just in case.

I have most often considered that perhaps mankind is the alien to this planet, and that I am some kind of natural defense system to counter your threat.

Science tells us that all the water on earth originally came from meteors from the cold of space that crashed into the planet. Life evolved from that water. Perhaps I did not? Perhaps I am from the elements before water?

Which is why I have also considered that perhaps I am meant to be the destruction of your species. Perhaps I am here to watch over all you aliens in this world, and make sure you don’t destroy it.

There is no doubt as I have watched, you have grown into almost a virus, and have now spread your evil contagion so far that the very earth itself is at risk of death.

So even though it’s just wild speculation, I like to think there could be some truth in it. It certainly seems the world would be a better place without you in it.

Though if that is the case, it seems a bit of a mismatch. Formidable as my ability to kill is, there are far too many of you now for me to take you all out. Though there was a time when it would have been possible, it is long in the past.

My mind does reel at all the possibilities of why I may be. Even if I have had a very long time to consider them. Perhaps we are not meant to know why we are, only that we are.

I do know my gut tells me I will never know peace from the hunger until either I am truly dead, or all of you are, and I am nothing if not a follower of my gut.

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Chapter 1 - DEAD MAN WALKING

I can feel the hunger, not like a gurgling pain in my stomach. I can’t imagine the human sense of hunger could be anything similar to this. As I become hungry, I simply become more focused in every way on my objective: to kill and drink the blood of a human being.

After I have done this, I feel satisfied, and for a few days it seems like I’m on a holiday. But then the holiday trance starts to fade, as my senses heighten. My focus turns to hunting, and my energy levels increase.

Right now it has been almost three weeks since I fed. I feel so powerful in my need that I might well be able to smash my way right through the solid rock walls that stand between me and my meal. But of course, I have other plans on how to get in there.

I would have to admit, killing this terrorist has been difficult, and something I wouldn’t normally have taken on. Not that I haven’t fed on high-profile people before. He is a small player in comparison to many I have fed on. I have changed the course of man’s history many times. Sometimes on purpose, and sometimes by accident, but always because of blood lust and an important blood donor.

If I hadn’t come across his whereabouts while killing another lesser terrorist, I really would never have even thought about it, though. Especially if I had known it would mean going three weeks without feeding. But chance or design has led me here, so this is to be the fanatic’s final moments.

These fanatics are all always the same, and have been an unfortunate constant throughout history. Since men invented religion and rules of governance to give themselves peace from the things that go bump in the night, weaker, less moral men, have used it to have power over others.

Religion and politics have always invented two types of leaders: people who seek dominance over others for their own gain, or brainwashed non-thinkers. Both are equally horrifying to me. But it was obviously mankind’s choice to allow itself to give into that darkness. Agreeing to kill, because some evil or brainwashed person tells them to. Let them eat themselves from the inside out if they want to, I say. What do I care what they do?

But I care what I do, the choices I make. So, like the lion, I often hunt a distinct section of the herd. Perhaps it is this maladjustment in people that I hunt? Though, I know the blood tastes no different, regardless of the donor.

I’ve drank of many a saint and sinner. I think the sinners are just more fun to take down. Like how stealing from the man, as opposed to from some poor family, is always preferred by a thief. You just know that one is slightly less bad on some moral level. But again, ultimately you’re all just food, and I won’t lose sleep over killing any of you.

I suppose it would be nice if I could become fog, or a bat, and just float on in past the security. But there is a lot to be said for having no sense of fear, too. Knowing that the worst that can happen is waking up to find you were dead, can really stimulate the confidence when it comes to being a predator. The millennia of years of personal experience doesn’t hurt either.

But the thirst, on its own, would be enough to ensure success in almost all cases, and right now I’m very hungry! To think that I’ve been hunting for this piece of human trash for three weeks is surprising. It’s of course not the first time I have gone so long between feedings. But it’s a long enough time to have become quite uncomfortable for me.

If you picture an animal focused right before an attack, you’ll begin to understand how I feel, only multiply that by one hundred.

Back before vehicles, one could often find themselves days away from the nearest person if they left the comfort of their little town. Now we can zip to and fro, without any regard to the distances we are travelling.

I, of course, prefer to stick to the old ways when I travel, like trains, or ships, driving or walking but even I have gotten used to the benefits of air travel; though the latter seems to happen much more infrequently in these times of suspicion and government oversight.

Of course I am not without means, and that allows for privileged access, meaning much less chance of any problems. Still, I would rather stow away with the rats given the choice; I don’t like to play with my food.

The hunt for this high-profile terrorist began less than five hundred miles away. So naturally I thought it would be a straightforward journey to get here. When I set upon the small group of terrorists three weeks ago, killing the first five in moments, their leader begged for his life and offered up this much bigger fish if I would only spare him.

I would not, but now I had this information on the demented radical. He alone was responsible for thousands of deaths. This sociopath killed anyone and everyone including his own followers. Somehow they still let him be the boss. Crazy is, as crazy does, I suppose.

It was clear, at least to me, that he was not following some