Vampire Journal

Five years have passed since I came back. It has been a good five years, too. There’s plenty of blood to drink, lots of moonlight to dance in, nice apartment to live in. Apartment? I can hear you asking. Yeah, I live in an apartment. I don’t know why more vampires don’t. I mean, the appeal of living in a crypt? Sleeping on a bier where a dead body was? Ew. Not very sanitary.

I know, I know, I’m dead. I can’t get sick. I just HATE being dirty. I blame it on my parents. They kept harping on me, take a shower, wash your hands, disinfect your room. So what, right? All parents do that. But mine, well, they would tell me to shower while I was toweling off from the last one. God forbid if I ever had to use a public toilet. I’d get a Lysol bath when I got home. Needless to say, the neat freak thing was a gift that I tried so hard to get rid of, but hey, obsessive-compulsive disorders, what can you do?

Bet you didn’t know that us vamps had mental problems too, huh? I met one who would always, ALWAYS, brush his teeth after chomping a human. I mean, ok, so you’re teeth are bloody, big deal right? Oh god, you got a spot of blood on your shirt, BURN IT, ok, I can see that, but brushing your fangs? What happens when there’s a huge gathering of mortals to eat? Excuse me lass, I’ll be right back to kill you too, I have to brush your boyfriend out of my teeth first. He was a good guy though. He was staked about three years ago.

Staking. I didn’t know if that was just a myth or a vampire movie thing or real. My buddy though, got it right in front of me. We were prowling around downtown, late at night, bar rush time, best time of the night. Food just walks right up to you and falls into your arms. Anyways, we’re wandering around, and this blonde chick comes around the corner. We smiled at each other, my friend and I. She’s cute, he muttered. First shot is yours, I told him. Thankfully.

He walked up to this little blonde thing, and started talking her up. He was always a bit better with the women. She smiled, nodded, flipped the hair, all the little flirting signs. She leaned in to hear him, cause he lowered his voice. He changed, and lunged for her.

She changed too. Not saying she went vamp like my friend, but the cute SoCal girl was replaced by this bad-ass fighting machine. My friend was smacked around, something I had never seen before. A human, getting the better of a vampire? No way! I rushed down to help him when she whipped out a stake. My friend cried out, and turned to dust. The FUCK?! I didn’t even think of taking the fight to her then. I darted away, running for all I’m worth.

I’m not as strong as some of the other vampires, but I’m more than fast when it comes down to running. For a while there, that freaky blonde kept up with me. I was terrified. The hell was she?

I didn’t leave my apartment for a few days after that. I’ll admit I was pretty freaked. That old memory came back. Sunlight. Fire. Slayer. What the hell is a Slayer? A cute blonde in a leather coat? How many of them are there? Can they be killed?

Brooding in my home didn’t really suit me though. I finally wandered out carefully, found a few tasty mortals to eat, then went looking for some other vampires. We usually can find one another, if we look hard enough. It’s a lack of scent thing. Amazing how well we can smell, really, when you think about it, since we don’t breathe and all.

Anyways, a few of the guys told me about the Slayer. Named Buffy, of all things. I mean, didn’t that name die out YEARS ago? Anyways, she’s got an impressive list of vamps dusted, demons whacked, apocalypses averted, and a disturbing number of resurrections under her belt. One of the guys said that she even had dated a few vampires, making each of them her slave. I doubted that, but hey, you hear all sorts of weird things at a bar, right?

So that’s a Slayer, a power given to just one girl every generation to keep us vampires in check or some such thing. One of my new friends was talking about how he’d like to go up against her, eat her, take her Slayer strength. Good luck to him. I don’t think I’m going to stay around here. Get away from this scary chick

Of course, I say that, I wind up staying for another few years. Why not right? I can outrun her, and if I can avoid eating her friends, I can probably stay off her radar. And the people around here are rich, for the most part.

Answered a question you had didn’t I? How do I afford my rent, my lights, my water bills? Simple. I steal the wallets of the people I eat. Why not, they’re dead right? So what if I have to keep going to the Quicky Mart for money orders to pay the bills? I can usually find a ripe mortal for snacking while I’m there. Just not the employees. They would notice eventually if their employees kept dropping dead after I visited them.

So I updated sooner than expected. this vampire is easy to write for