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Description
I walk calmly down the wide, dark alleyway. A nearby lamppost provides meagre lighting, and it’s light darts around my body, casting my shadow onto the road ahead of me. The shadows are everywhere, covering every pothole in the road, every imperfection in the derelict buildings on either side. Yet the darkness does not bother me, for I am a creature of the night. My name is Kali, and I am the last vampire. I am an ancient creature, forged since the very beginning of charted time. Born from the womb of evil and grown into a world of good, I have caused a swathe of death and suffering wherever I have been. Yet I am not a vampire in the sense of the word. I need to eat and drink like any other human, and despite what I am I still like to think of myself as human, think that I have a shred of humanity left inside of me. The stories about garlic and crosses are simply myth, nothing more, passed down from generation to generation by our victims, hopeful for ways to stop us. They were fools, and were all slain. In my many years, I estimate over three thousand I have travelled the world. Once our kind had spread over the face of the world like a plague of boils, and infested all that was good, yet during this old time even I was not alive. I have heard stories of a glorious civilisation that built towers that reached into the sky, that explored the furthest reaches of our world and our mind, and of the destroyers, us. I say us grudgingly; despite what I am I still see our kind as the malevolent fools. It was us that crushed this majestic people. Yet, after all that history, after all of the birth, growth, death, and rebirth, I am left alone in this world. My people were slain over a millennia ago, and to this day I still remember the expression on my sweet NAME’s face as he was fixated to the stake and burnt, as his skin boiled and crackled… I can’t think about it any longer, the memory still brings a tear to my eye, so I digress.
As I walk, I can feel the hunger return. The hunger is only slight; I can feel a slight burning in my stomach, a weak headache. I knew the hunger would sometime shortly, for I have gone over a month without feeding. I can survive a long time without feeding after my great age, and my need thankfully becomes more rare over time. I have once survived an entire year without feeding, although at the end I was so drained and tired I felt I could live no longer. But again I digress, I need a meal, and quickly.
I need not search far. Although there is nobody in the immediate vicinity, I can clearly hear the loud noises of a metal band playing. The music sounds good to me, I believe it is one of the best forms of breaking free of how we are born into life. Only through meditation or music can one truly free him or herself. I continue to walk down the alley and soon reach the end, I need only turn to the right and a short way down the wide road is a large, decrepit building. The corrugated iron is shoddy, unclean. I approach the door, and the bouncer there. He is a large, hefty man. With a quick glance I figure him to be possibly two hundred to two hundred and ten pounds. He has broad shoulders, and his coloured face is chiselled, bristly. He appears well muscled, but none of this bothers me.
I could quite easily rip his head off or drain his blood, but he does not appeal to me, I can almost smell his body fat. The night is young and I need some fun, and besides I have other needs than to kill. I say nothing. The bouncer moves forwards slightly and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut my eyes deep into his, and for a few seconds I allow a fraction of my ancient power to bore deep into his mind. He closes his mouth, and I know to him it must seem as if he is staring deep into a fire that has burnt since eternity, into the most dangerous of murderers and yet the most passionate of lovers. He steps back, confused and I walk past. I walk down a tunnel, pasted with adverts for various things and I can hear the music get louder. The sound is beginning and the bass slowly gets louder and louder. Finally I emerge from the tunnel into a vast hall, just as the song picks up into some heavy bass and drumming. I enjoy it immensely.
I love the entire ambience of this setting. The whole room is vast and an orange mist of light is illuminated by the twirling gas and smoke. I walk slowly through the crowd of over two hundred people as they face the front, where the band plays. They look impressive, even to I. Five of them on various instruments, they wear black and red and rings and try with all their heart to be inhuman, yet I know that no matter how much they try to be evil, they will be but a shadow of I. I smile at this thought as I emerge from the side of the crowd and take place at a small table, alone. I sit and watch the band, and I wait for the next sex hungry, drunken male to make a move on me. I know that to any mortal, my beauty is irresistible. I am slender, 5’8” in height. My hair is as dark as my heart, and reaches behind my shoulders, straight and smooth. My face is slender, perfect in almost every way. I have a pair of startling green eyes, unless I am angered. When a vampire is on the hunt, their eyes turn red and bloodshot, and I am no exception to this. Of course, I know what most of the males around here would care about. I have slim, long legs and a shapely rear. My breasts are of a medium size, and firm. I know that to any male I am irresistable; Just what I need to help entice my next victim.
Even through this loud din of music and cheering, I hear footsteps behind me coming this way. Judging by how they land, the man behind me is not yet drunk but is on his way. He sits opposite me by the table and I notice his blue eyes. I allow a fraction of my passion show through and I smile. I know my smile alone is capable of terrifying or seducing someone. The man instantly takes a liking to me. He is over six foot in height and well built. He wears poor clothes, black leather. His name is Adrian.
He buys me a drink and we get talking for a while, to the level that he wants me bad enough he would sacrifice his family to have me. I show him I have money and will get a room, and I lead him to a cheap motel not far from the building. I get us a room for the night. I open our room and pull him gently by his jacket in after me. He is a lucky boy, he is lucky that I do not like to kill. I undress him and make love to him, and I know it is the best sex he has ever had, my touch can be the most arousing. As he sleeps away afterwards, from the best night of his life, I lie next to him. I use the nail from my thumb to slice down his Jugular, and I plant my mouth over it and suck. The red elixir is gorgeous and I feel his life force flow powerfully through his blood into me. When I drain a victim’s blood I can make it horribly painful or pleasurable. I drink sweetly and I know to him it must feel better than the sex, as if a thousand velvet fingers are caressing every single nerve in his body. I drink only a few pints, he is tired, I do not wish to kill, and I do not need too much blood. When I have finished, I bite my tongue and allow it to bleed freely, and let my blood drip onto his neck. His wound heals quickly. He will sleep long into tomorrow, and will awaken with a slight headache. If someone were to call me a slut, they would be right. They would also be dead. I get a shower, and leave.