Doors, Words, the Sun, and that stuff called "Blood"...

When I finally got done running, I was at the edge of a small town. Although, most small towns don't feel so small anymore. Just large and empty with tons of roads running through them. I slowed down to a walk. I mean, I still didn't know where to go. At this point, I start worrying about the fact that I was still, quite literally, dressed for a funeral. Everything would have been a lot easier if they had just buried me in jeans and a t-shirt.

I got an idea then. It hit me. The perfect solution to not knowing about vampires: finding out more about vampires.

Yeah, I know, I know. It's not brilliant logic. But considering how fucked up I felt, it seemed quite brilliant.

But where do I go? How do I find out more about vampires? Maybe it was all that mental programming in school, or maybe it was because there was no real other way to do it, but I thought the only place to go was, oddly enough, the library. The problem is that libraries close at night, something which is quite inconvenient for the newly un-deceased vampire reader.

But if I am dead, what does it matter? What are they going to do about it? I didn't care at this point and I needed some info on what I was. So, I had to break in.

I tried to be all sneaky... I have no idea why. I mean, I had to break in. I was going to bust down the door and grab a ton of vampire books. After I snuck up to the door, I cautiously touched the door handle. Just to see if, you know, there was some sort of general trend against them. But of course, it didn't harm me. Now, if it was a religious bookstore, it might have stung a little bit.

Having satisfied my curiosity about doorhandles, I grabbed it, planted myself, and yanked the door off of its hinges. I figured it would have worked like that, and surprisingly, I was right. I mean, my logic back then was that if I could break out of a buried coffin and dig myself out, I could yank a door off of its hinges. It made a lot less sound than I thought it would though. I found that weird. But, I wasn't going to complain. I set the door against the wall and walked in.

After searching for a while, I found a small section devoted to vampires and other supposedly mythical creatures. I sat down and leafed through a couple of them. Interesting stuff, especially when it applies to you. I got confirmation on all the freaky things that had happened up to this point and I got a preview of what was to come: dawn. Not a good thing for a vampire.

Now I had two problems. First of all, I needed to find some place to hide from the sunlight and spend the daytime, which is easier said then done. It had to be a place where no one would disturb me. Second, I start to feel the desire to drink again. The books explained it well enough. I was a fresh vampire. I wasn't strong enough to go without drinking blood for a while. Worse yet, animal blood just wasn't going to cut it...

That is such an inconvenience. I mean honestly, it's not the killing part that bothers me. I mean, sure, I guess sometimes I feel a little bad, but as long as I don't drink a baby or something, I don't really care that much. People die. That is a fact. Might as well get some blood out of that scenario, before the stuff goes cold. Ugh. Cold blood is nasty. It's like eating a rotten egg omelet: you begin to seriously question why you have such an intense desire to preserve things for so long when you could get it fresh, as you start to vomit uncontrollably. But my point is, I would really like to be able to survive on animal blood because it is just so much easier.

But, I didn't have time to sit around and mope. I had two objectives and limited time till sunrise.

Time to Kill

I ran for a long, long time. I didn't realize earlier that I had gotten so far away from that church in so little time, but now it was all starting to fit together. I was slowly coming to terms with what I was. But the main problem was that I didn't really know a lot about vampires. I was never into that scene. The dark clothes and all the other shit was just not my style. I was always a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy, which is why I hated working. I hated getting dressed decently and heading in to run that small little fast food joint. That place always reeked of fries. I hated that smell. All I knew about vampires came from those freaks and geeks who would sometimes come in really late and order something small and just get tons of ketchup. Ha. Ketchup. It is so funny now in retrospect. A substance so distant from real blood, yet symbolically substituted for it. Back then, they just freaked me out. I was a little afraid of them. But now, I can't see why. They are just a group of people who are no weirder than any person is with a fixation on a single, morbid thing. What is worse? Being obsessed with "blood" or being obsessed with money? I don't really give a shit about either now. Well, I guess I don't give a shit about much anymore, but back then I gave a shit about money. And frankly, now I don't know why.

Well, I guess you're right. Not all vampire freaks pretend ketchup is blood. I am not saying that. I guess the whole dark dress thing is just a big hang up of mine. I mean, you didn't even consider the possibility that I was a vampire until I told you, and even then, I think it had more to do with the fact that you could see fangs when I said that. What? You think we all dress like that? No, I still hate that style. Even more so now that I AM a vampire. It's stereotyping is what it is. We can't be racist or sexist anymore, but we all assume that vampires are dark and brooding individuals. Sorry if me being relatively like I used to be makes me less of your ideal vampire. But, like I said, I don't care.

To be honest, I was surprised to find out you were a vampire groupie... You dress pretty normally. Another reason I hate modern depictions of vampires. Back in the day, the only real vampire groupies were easy to pick out. Now, it's so mainstream that even the preppy cheerleaders that you couldn't get in high school are huge vampire fans. Weirds me out. I have always avoided taking those dark kids as victims because I don't like having to deal with this kind of shit.

You're lucky I actually feel like wasting my time on you by telling you my story. But I guess time means nothing to either of us now. I will probably live a long, long time, if not forever, and you are going to die as soon as I finish. A few hours means nothing to either of us.

But I want to drink all of your blood, not bore you to death. I guess I should stop pretending to think about whatever and get back to the "good stuff"...

Post-Drink Speculation

I was panting heavily, looking down at that damn bunny. I hated that bunny. I hated that it made me feel horrible. I hated that it made me drink blood for the first time. I hated that it made me face what had been happening this whole time behind the scenes. I just hated that bunny. I was scared, but I was angry more than anything. At myself, I guess. That was back when I was stupid and cared. Like it even matters. I mean, its a damn bunny. Whether you suck it dry of blood or knock it over the head with a rock to make fur coats, its a stupid animal that people kill.

But I started to think about it. I am not a person. Even though I wasn't really into vampires, I still knew what they were. Growing fangs and drinking blood were big clues. I didn't believe it yet. I knew what it meant, but I wasn't ready to accept it yet. But I had somehow become a vampire the night I was in that car accident.

So there I stood, angry at the bunny, confused with myself, and still thirsty. I turned to go back the way I came. I still had no idea where I was. But if I kept walking, I was bound to run into something I recognized or could find my way from.

But where was I going? Home? Ha. I couldn't walk home. Dead people don't have apartments, and whoever got stuck with the job of cleaning up after my life had their work cut out for them. Bottles of beer everywhere, plates scattered across my tiny, crappy bachelor pad, some with food on them, some broken, some both. I wondered if the newspapers had piled up outside my door or if the paper boy was smart enough to stop delivering after the first two or three...

I got to the edge of the woods and started to move a little faster. I slowly started to run, faster and faster. As I started to run as fast as I could when I was alive, I realized something. I didn't feel my heart pounding like crazy, reminding me that I was slightly overweight and should go to the gym. "Huh," I thought, "when you don't have to worry about your heart giving out, running is a lot more enjoyable." It was about this time that I also realized I wasn't breathing. That freaked me out. Running as fast as I thought I could, I tested my thinking. I stopped breathing altogether and relaxed. No problem. I just kept going. My legs got tired like normal, but my lungs and heart didn't matter at all. I felt like a ninja to be honest. Silently moving without even a heartbeat, without even the sound of me breathing. Of course, I was far from stealthy. My legs were clumsy and awkward, and when they hit the ground, they still made just as much noise as they used to. But still, it was fun to imagine. You have to try to keep some type of positive spirit. Even if it is odd and usually sarcastic. Like mine.

Yeah. That's right. We actually don't need to breathe. I know. It is weird. It's easy to forget sometimes. But then again, I had to breathe for 33 years and I have only been able to just forget about breathing for ten years. So maybe after a while it will be just as normal as breathing was. There are other things too. Like, not eating gets odd. Sometimes you think "Oh, maybe I should eat a snack." or "Damn, a cheeseburger would be great." even though you don't get hungry. It's just force of habit. I mean, humans are creatures of habit. And so are vampires. I mean, we usually are referred to as Creatures of the Night, but Creatures of Habit is equally true. Hahaha. No, I don't think anyone would call us that. Why? Cause, it doesn't have a good ring to it. You know, it's almost amusing how naive you are sometimes. Almost. Then you ruin it by sticking up for the fictional, sexy vampires.

But, at least now I will almost feel bad for drinking your blood dry. Almost...

Thirsty?

When I began to slow down, I realized my surroundings were quite different. I wasn't in a church's cemetary at all. I was in the middle of nowhere. No people. No buildings. No cars or human sounds or human lights.

I started to feel drained from everything. I mean, I had gone through a lot in a couple of hours. I woke up dead, dug my way out of a grave, and ran like hell from a very scary Jesus. I was a bit tired. And my throat was really dry. I needed some water or something...

Well, for once, you ARE right when you think you see where this is going... But I guess it's not that hard to figure out... Even for a vampire groupie.

But it isn't your traditional "first blood"...

I had sat down on a tree stump to rest while I looked around. I was at the edge of a forst. I heard water running, and before I had time to think about what I was going to do next, I allowed the overwhelming need for me to drink something overcome me. I ran towards the source of the sound of running water without any hesitation. "I don't care if it's stream water at this point... I am done with caring. Tonight is just going to be that weird night I talk about constantly." I imagined the dinner parties I could tell it at, even though I have never really been to a dinner party. I was never cool enough to do that. I was that guy who went to the bar alone to drink alone, and 99% of the time, leave alone. The kind of guy that alcohol was invented for. As a consolation prize.

I finally found a creek a bit further into the forest. I started to approach the water. It was a pleasant place with a natural beauty to it. Everything seemed nicely arranged by Mother Nature to be disordered but beautiful. In the moonlight, it looked amazing. There was even a little bunny by the stream, in a very Bambi-esque fashion.

Fortunately, for the children's sake, Bambi didn't have vampires in it.

As I approached the water, the bunny caught wind of my presence and turned to take off from its late night drink. Now, a rabbit running away from a person is nothing unusual. It's a natural reaction. But my reaction to it was the most unnatural reaction of all reactions. I lunged forward at a speed that I couldn't comprehend and caught it with my bare hands. Immediately, as if I was compelled by some force, I snapped its neck and tore into the exposed side, drinking all of the blood in its body in a matter of seconds. I could feel it shrivel up in my hands the whole time I drank that beautiful, red substance. I never thought I would ever like the taste of blood, but man it hit the spot. I was refreshed, but mortified.

Now, put yourself in my shoes. You don't know you are a vampire. You don't even know you are dead. And on your way to get a drink of water, you catch a rabbit and instinctively drink it dry of blood... Needless to say, you would be freaked out.

As I dropped Thumper to the ground, I began to feel the recoil of the situation. I felt the shock pass over my body. The shock of realizing what I had done. The shock of seeing a lifeless bunny lying on the ground while I licked my lips clean of blood. But almost as immediately as this feeling entered my body, it was replaced by a new and equally unfamiliar feeling.

My teeth began to hurt. Well, hurt doesn't do it justice... Hmmm... Ugh... Ummm... Burn is wrong. I mean, it wasn't a burning sensation persay... Maybe some ripping... Well, let's just put it this way. I felt about a half inch of previously non-existant tooth form in the matter of three seconds. Like rapid growth... I guess. I mean, I don't have anything to compare it to... And it doesn't lend itself to metaphorical description as easily as the church door handle does...

Whatever. It really really hurt. That's what's important. It's not like all my work to make this interesting is even being appreciated anyway... All you want to hear about is some damn love story or something. Or sexy vampires. My story has neither... Well... Maybe... We won't talk about her for now...

But the point is, even if I did fall in love with someone, it wouldn't be all nice and pretty and cute and romantic like it is in those damn stories... I mean, how could it? I drink blood. Humans bleed. Vampires can't love humans anymore than humans can love cattle if you ask me.

Yeah... It's impossible.

Sorry for sidetracking for a little bit. Anyways. At this point, I have started to realize that something is a little different. I just grew fangs. Painfully. I drank blood. I don't think anyone would find this normal, not even those vampire freaks. No offense.

Well, although I felt a bit recharged, I wasn't finished. My body was in a state of confusion, wanting something more than bunny blood. Even though I didn't know why at the time, I did know that I was going to drink some more blood before I was done.

A Horrible Revelation of Sorts

So, I got up slowly and dusted myself off after I had some time to calm down, if you could really call it that. I looked back at my grave. There was a large hole caving into the now empty coffin buried underground. It was strange to look at. There it was: my tombstone, my plot in the land of the deceased, my supposed final resting place. It is really strange to look at your own grave. Not as weird as the rest of it though, so I guess it went under-appreciated at the time, but still. Anyways, I tried to stop thinking about that and started to think about where to go next. Where do you go when something like this happens? Where am I even?

I recognized the church that was a good walk away. It was my old church. You see, I was brought up Catholic. And I was buried Catholic. I started walking towards the church, hoping that Father Hank was still awake or something. I mean, I thought it might be a good idea to tell someone that I was not dead. At least I was right about the "not dead" part of it.

When I finally got to the church, I started to feel uneasy. As I walked closer to the door, I felt more and more compelled to run away. I have never felt anything like it in my life. It was like I was walking towards the door but my body was entering flight mode. Everything about my being wanted to get as far away from this location as possible. I looked up at the artwork above the door. A large Jesus stared down at me. An angry stare. A very very angry stare. That seemed real. Like Jesus was going to descend from the doorway and destroy me, turning me into nothing. Not even destroy me so much as reverse-create me. He supposedly made this all out of nothing and I felt like He was going to just turn it back into nothing, just on a very very local scale. All of this was too real for me. I didn't like that. I tried to tell myself that I was hallucinating but even if I was, it was starting to disturb me on a level I have never been disturbed on. And this only heightened the sensation more and more. I tried to talk myself down. "It's just nerves. I woke up in a grave. I am just being paranoid now." I told myself and reached for the door handle.

I don't think I will be touching any church door handles any time soon. Not after that.

So, I can't even describe what it was like, but I guess you would want me to attempt to. So here goes: It's like your entire body starts to re-orient all of its muscles in the direction opposite of where you were heading as some sort of not-so-subtle suggestion that you get the fuck out of there. It's like you can feel everything about you shift violently away from that direction. Like every cell in your body is pushing in that direction. Like tons of tiny hooks are attached to every fiber of muscle in your body and they are yanking you away. Muscle tears across bone and moves around under your skin until you can't bear to even think about continuing onward towards your destination. It is amazing, but it is so painful that you refuse to endure it again for curiosity, like when you touch something hot and try to touch it again to see if it is still, in fact, as hot. It burns too, much more than grabbing on to something hot can do. It's like it burns down to the bone and you can feel your bones start to singe. Your ears ring loudly too, but its not as strong or as new of a sensation. That might be the only part of it that is remotely comprehensible to a human being...

Needless to say, as soon as I touched that door handle, I bolted out of there. I ran for a good long time. I didn't even know or care where I was going, I just let those hooks yank me. I ran like a bat out of hell.

Yes, I realize how ironic that statement is. Don't think you are clever for noticing.

What? No, just stop. Don't even try to tell me that holy things don't really harm vampires. I'm a vampire, okay? You aren't going to get far in this conversation. You just need to listen and face the facts: Vampires are horrible, unnatural abominations. God hates us. I don't know why. I mean, I guess it's because of the blood-drinking and stuff, but, I mean, I don't think that makes us bad people. Although, I have long had suspicions that all the other qualities about me make me a bad person... But the point is, don't try to make everything seem all nice and pretty. We can't deal with holy things, for some reason or another. I don't like it, but please stop trying to ignore that... Seriously, you really annoy me...

Now, as I was saying...

The Night I was Unborn

So, I died. I guess it would be tragic but, hey, I came back, so it really isn't that big of a deal. It was kind of strange. I mean, the first night is always the hardest.

I remember it perfectly, partially because the memory of rising from the dead sort of stays with you. But nothing compares to the feeling of waking up in a grave. Nothing. It is a terrifying experience to think you have been buried alive. That is another thing I don't like about vampire novels. They always pick up in the middle or something, and they really neglect how freaky it is to slowly realize what is going on. Like the experience of waking up buried. Very not cool sensation.

Listen, I don't want to hear you defend them. Those books are garbage. You can say what you like, but I sat down and read them once. As a vampire, it is just really annoying to read something like that. It's almost like a stereotype! I mean, if every book about blondes was about how ditzy and stupid they were, don't you think smart blondes would hate reading those books? Seriously, if you try to interrupt me again, I'll just duct tape your mouth shut. I don't need this. I am trying to prove a point.

Anyway, after freaking out for a while about being underground in a wooden box, I realized that that wasn't going to help. I started thinking of ways to get out of there. After what seemed like forever of thinking and thinking of some way to push 6 feet of dirt off my coffin to escape, as well as pry the lid off, I just started freaking out and violently flailing about, slamming against the lid over and over.

Now, I don't think I believed that would actually accomplish anything. I mean, I was on the verge of a mental breakdown and I started to just know deep down in my heart, which ironically wasn't beating at the time, that I was going to die, which even more ironically wasn't exactly true...

After a while, I stopped flailing about and started crying. I was done for. I was finished. "This is where I will die," I thought, "In a coffin that was already buried... Saves a lot of hassle." Then, I noticed something. I saw that the wood I had been viciously tearing at with all my strength was beginning to give. What should have raised a red flag was the fact that I could see this in the complete absence of light, but in that scenario, you have much more important things to be thinking about.

So for the next hour or so, I just continuously tore at that damn lid. I don't know what I was planning to do when 6 feet of dirt started to fall in on me, but I felt that it was a better idea than just lying there and accepting my fate. I tore into that lid like no one's business. Finally, it cracked open completely and gave way.

Now, I don't know if any of you have had 6 feet of dirt start to fall on you, but that experience easily rivals waking up inside a coffin under the aforementioned 6 feet...

Anyway, I started to dig as frantically as I could, crawling out little by little into the soil. Reverse digging is odd. Especially because you really can't breathe. At the time, I thought I had held my breath. It's not like I figured that I made it because I don't have to breathe... I mean, that would be ridiculous. True. But ridiculous. After another long stretch of time, I had successfully dug myself out of that grave and started to pull myself out. I collapsed on the ground and let the terror that filled my body pass. It was quite an experience... to say the least.

And it was only the beginning...

The Beginning...

I still don't know why I became a vampire. I wasn't bitten, so don't you EVEN start that. I am sick of that. Seriously, I have bitten a ton of people. I HAVE to. You can't drink blood through a straw or something, you really have to get in there and bite 'em. But anyway, my point is that none, and I mean NONE, of those people became vampires. That's not how you turn people into vampires. Can you imagine how many we would have running around if that was how it worked?

Well, needless to say, whenever I got back up after a week of being dead and buried, I was surprised. But I guess I should tell you how I died first. To people who haven't died, death is kind of a big deal, I guess. It's hard to understand that now, to be completely honest. But I want you to know, I am only doing this so you stop being excited about vampires. Being undead isn't something pleasant. It isn't cool. You need to learn that.

Now, it all began on New Year's Eve. It was the eve of the Millennium and we were partying like there was no tomorrow, partially because we believed there wasn't going to be a tomorrow for some reason. I still don't get why. I mean, that whole Y2K thing seems silly in retrospect.

Anyway, I was good and drunk and horny, the way all single 30-something men get when a decently attractive and indecently drunk woman gets into their economy car. If she was more attractive and less drunk, I'd have to be much younger and much richer. But, I figured, if the world is going to end at midnight, why waste the last few hours at a local bar, drinking alone, when I could be getting some. A different kind of Last Call if you will...

So, we take off. I start heading back to my place in hopes of something happening. I remember thinking about how messy my apartment was. I was a 30-something bachelor after all. My apartment was full of junk. Dishes all over the place, mysterious stains on the carpet, pet hair of the pet I have never owned collecting in the corners of the rooms. Seriously, I never had a cat, but I did have cat hair all around my apartment. Figure that out. Then my mind drifted to thinking about how that woman probably had a disease. I remember that. She was that kind of "trashy hot" girl. Big fake tits, horribly fake tan, those tacky fake nails, obviously fake hair color, and a fake personality even. It made me wonder what she would look like if you took all the fake out of her. Probably much prettier. But, I figured, I was drunk, so who cares what she looks like? And if the world was going to end tomorrow, then who cares if I catch anything? And if it doesn't, then I figured it would make a great story.

That's a lot to think about when you are drunk and driving towards your apartment.

I didn't wreck actually. I know that is what you are thinking. I get in a wreck and die. Then I become a vampire. Nope. Wrong. You are about as creative as those vampire novelists... seriously now.

Of course, my poor driving and high road speed were pretty hard to miss. Remember how I mentioned that nowadays we have police and detectives and all that jazz? Yeah, well you can see where this is going... So I get pulled over, and it was by this really dopey asshole who was eyeing up the chick in my car as he talked. I said something about whatever. I don't really remember what the hell I said, but I do remember the reaction. I must have blown a cloud of beer gas right into his face when I opened my mouth. He made that face you make when you are changing a baby's diaper and you finally get it open and the whole scent of it just collides with your sense of smell in a beautiful split second afterwards. That sort of delayed horrification of expression. That was his face. He told me to step out of the car.

I never got to step out of the car. The girl interrupted and started to ask him in the sexiest voice she could muster if there was anything she could do for him. Mind you, if I was sober, I would have probably found this gross. I mean, the sexiest voice that she could muster was by no means sexy at all. It was that annoying ditzy blonde voice that matched her malibu barbie appearance. I constantly wish I would have just stayed and got drunk alone at the bar. However, for better or worse, she was my girl, only for the evening of course. And because I was drunk and couldn't realize it wasn't a good idea to flip out on a cop, I started to get all angry. Then a car hit us. I am pretty sure that she died instantly, but I didn't really die right away. I think I started to crawl away from the wreck. My legs wouldn't work or something. I remember that there was a lot of pain, but not really what it felt like or anything to be honest. Alcohol sort of dulls the senses and blurs the memory like that. Anyways, point being, I bled out and died. I always wonder what happened to that officer... I hope he got what he had coming. Bastard.

A true Vampyre story...

Hi, my name is Brett. I am a vampire, and you are going to be my drink for the evening.

Don't get so excited. I am not going to turn you into a vampire. I am not going to fulfill your creepy desire to sleep with a corpse. I mean, you do realize that is Necrophilia, right? I am a dead person. You shouldn't be happy about this, or want to sleep with me at all, especially cause I am not the most attractive person. Anyways, I am going to drink your blood, it's not going to be fun for either of us, and you will die afterwards.

Actually, now that I think about it, it might be fun for me. You are really annoying and I wouldn't mind if you die. I am sick of all this commotion about vampires lately.

I just don't get why all of the sudden vampires are cool... I mean, I've been one for about ten years now, and it's not a fun gig. You have to constantly drink people's blood. You can't just drink cattle's blood. You need human blood at least once a week. One of the annoying details that people try to change. It isn't easy. I mean, back in the day, sure, it might have been. But now we have police and detectives and all kinds of people who start looking for someone once a dead body shows up. Again, its really annoying. I can't tell you how hard it was to learn the ropes in the beginning.

Actually, now that I think about it, I guess I could. It's not like you are going anywhere now that I have you tied up...