Part 2: Ice
"Anybody here?" I called out. Someone banged on a door at the end of the corridor, muffled screaming mingled with coughs... There was thick, black smoke coming out of at least four doors. I ran towards the door and was about to yank it open when a hand shot out from behind me and opened the door. Smoke billowed out and hit my face. Even before I could sidestep the smoke -- and I am very fast -- someone pulled me aside roughly.
I spun around trying to see and free my wrist at the same time. The grip was iron-strong. There was a fireman standing next to me, I could barely make out his orange overalls. I had not seen any fireman enter the building before me, where did he come from? Before I could say anything, he pushed me aside, lunged into the room and in a matter of mere minutes came out with an unconscious woman in his arms.
"Come with me," he said and without another glance began running towards the stairwell. I ran with him and realised I was matching his pace. Or he was matching mine. We were both running faster than most humans. We jumped down the stairs together and were soon outside the building. Even as people clapped and cheered, I realised the rescue had hardly taken seven minutes.
People were coming around to pat us... It was not safe. He was a fireman and I had just come out of the building unscathed. There would be questions. I quickly turned into the swarming crowd and as fast as possible -- and as inconspicuously -- began walking away. I had almost made my getaway when an iron hand clasped my wrist for the second time that day. I jerked my hand away, without success and swivelled to face my captor.
The first thing I noticed was that the fireman was very tall. I am 5 feet 6 inches and he was at least a foot taller than me. He was very dark… and very handsome. If you find a cruel face handsome that is. There was no softness in his face. All lines, a straight sharp nose… He was not frowning, but he looked angry. Perhaps it was the way he was clenching his jaw; a strong chin and perhaps a cleft but I couldn’t be sure. I was drawn to his eyes. They were grey, like an overcast sky and bloodshot.
He was looking at me or through me, I couldn’t be sure. What I was sure of was that he did not like what he saw. It angered me. Men have always reacted to me positively. I pulled my hand again, he wouldn’t let go. Before I could say anything, he spoke. It was as if he was grating the words out through teeth; his voice was a blues singer’s voice. Deep, slightly throaty and each word pronounced with careful deliberation.
“Are you all right?” he asked, no, spat at me. Despite the question, his tone and his face suggested he really did not care. It angered me further.
“Don’t touch me, keep your fucking hand off. I can manage alone,” I hissed back, again trying to pull my hand away. Again, failing. How could he match my strength? No human man had ever managed…
He laughed, still holding my wrist, clasping it tighter now, making me wince. I hated him.
“I doubt anyone would want to touch you. You are so cold,” he said, making each word sound like an insult and digging his fingers into my wrist again. He suddenly let it go. I noticed it then. He was as cold as I was.
I looked at him in shock. He smiled then. A feral, predatory smile and I saw his teeth. His canines were slightly pointed. Fangs. Like mine. I stood and stared. A fireman who was a… vampire? Before I could react or say anything further, he turned and started walking away. Loping rather, his long legs made longer strides. I stood and watched and even before my brain could get over the initial shock, he turned to look at me once more.
"I would suggest you don’t try and save anymore humans. It’s against your basic nature and you are clumsy. If you are discovered, you put everyone in danger. The others will not appreciate that and neither will your beautiful self. And remember beautiful, no one is ever alone.”
He left and I felt fear for the first time in a long, long while…
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Fire and Ice
Part 1. Fire
So while my Wednesday was being wasted by my cheating boss, a fire broke out in the office next to us. Since my boss hyperventilates at the smallest reason, he made us get out of the office as well. He completely believes in the idea of "you can never be too careful". Given that we have regular fire drills and now that we had a real fire next door, my boss got the perfect opportunity to give us all the "I told you so."
Fire drills are like crying wolf. People never take them seriously and I've always wondered what would happen if there was ever a real fire and people thought it was only a fire drill... I got my answer on Wednesday. Even as the fire alarm shrieked in the other building, people were coming out of it laughing. One man even stopped at the entrace, effectively blocking others, to light his cigarette.
All was calm till one of the women saw smoke billowing out of the 13th floor and started screaming. It's amazing how humans can go from complete calm to sheer panic in a matter of minutes. Even when they have not seen the cause of panic. So minutes after this woman screamed, pandemonium broke out. Everyone screamed, ran and elbowed each other without making any real progress. A couple of people even ran back into the building.
I stood aside and watched the flushed faces. There is something very exciting about humans in panic. Their faces go red, their breathing accelerates, I can hear their hearts thumping wildly in their chests and they give off the most delicious aroma. The scent of fear. It's almost like the scent of arousal. I had to smoke three cigarettes in quick succession to avoid catching one of them panicked people and sinking my fangs into their jugular... Their veins were standing out in their necks deliciously.
Thankfully, my murderous musing was interrupted with the arrival of the keening fire trucks. As I watched, keeping my instincts under a tight rein, the firemen in their orange and blue overalls got out and began pulling out the hoses. Despite the human tendency to panic and save its own skin, I admire the way humans in emergency services work. You can still smell their fear, but it's mixed with adrenalin coursing through their systems.
As I watched, I heard a scream from inside the building. My hearing is inhumanly sharp and I could hear real fear in that scream. Someone was trapped inside the building. From the look on everyone else's face, no one else had heard it.
Now generally I don't like to interfere in human dramas. But there was something about this scream. She did not want to die. While I do kill humans for my own sustenance, I enjoy saving lives, if and when the opportunity presents itself. Call it a perverse pleasure.
As I looked around to see if anyone had heard, she screamed again. Fear mixed with pain this time. I chucked my cigarette and ran inside the building. I heard someone call out after me, I couldn't care less, I knew I could get out of the building in a jiffy. Jumping six-steps-at-a-time, I reached the 7th floor; the scream had come from there.
To be continued...
So while my Wednesday was being wasted by my cheating boss, a fire broke out in the office next to us. Since my boss hyperventilates at the smallest reason, he made us get out of the office as well. He completely believes in the idea of "you can never be too careful". Given that we have regular fire drills and now that we had a real fire next door, my boss got the perfect opportunity to give us all the "I told you so."
Fire drills are like crying wolf. People never take them seriously and I've always wondered what would happen if there was ever a real fire and people thought it was only a fire drill... I got my answer on Wednesday. Even as the fire alarm shrieked in the other building, people were coming out of it laughing. One man even stopped at the entrace, effectively blocking others, to light his cigarette.
All was calm till one of the women saw smoke billowing out of the 13th floor and started screaming. It's amazing how humans can go from complete calm to sheer panic in a matter of minutes. Even when they have not seen the cause of panic. So minutes after this woman screamed, pandemonium broke out. Everyone screamed, ran and elbowed each other without making any real progress. A couple of people even ran back into the building.
I stood aside and watched the flushed faces. There is something very exciting about humans in panic. Their faces go red, their breathing accelerates, I can hear their hearts thumping wildly in their chests and they give off the most delicious aroma. The scent of fear. It's almost like the scent of arousal. I had to smoke three cigarettes in quick succession to avoid catching one of them panicked people and sinking my fangs into their jugular... Their veins were standing out in their necks deliciously.
Thankfully, my murderous musing was interrupted with the arrival of the keening fire trucks. As I watched, keeping my instincts under a tight rein, the firemen in their orange and blue overalls got out and began pulling out the hoses. Despite the human tendency to panic and save its own skin, I admire the way humans in emergency services work. You can still smell their fear, but it's mixed with adrenalin coursing through their systems.
As I watched, I heard a scream from inside the building. My hearing is inhumanly sharp and I could hear real fear in that scream. Someone was trapped inside the building. From the look on everyone else's face, no one else had heard it.
Now generally I don't like to interfere in human dramas. But there was something about this scream. She did not want to die. While I do kill humans for my own sustenance, I enjoy saving lives, if and when the opportunity presents itself. Call it a perverse pleasure.
As I looked around to see if anyone had heard, she screamed again. Fear mixed with pain this time. I chucked my cigarette and ran inside the building. I heard someone call out after me, I couldn't care less, I knew I could get out of the building in a jiffy. Jumping six-steps-at-a-time, I reached the 7th floor; the scream had come from there.
To be continued...
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
I like you, I eat you
I really don’t understand how humans manage to keep their jobs. While I have mastered most human behaviour; I find it extremely hard to maintain employment.
Why do I need a job? For the same reason the Cullens in Twilight go to school. It is called keeping up pretences. Also, unlike in popular fiction, vampires don’t always have untold riches to dip into. This vampire for instance is not loaded, not money-wise at least. I have also never managed a bank balance because banks ask too many bloody questions.
My entire day was wasted yesterday because my stupid human boss is not an organised creature. I am personal assistant and secretary to the CEO of a huge bank. For reasons of anonymity, I cannot name the bank. But let me tell you that if I did, the global economic situation will get another kick up its balls.
Over the ages, I have taken up human work that involves writing or taking notes. I have been a scribe at the Temple of Bellona, I have helped William write some fantastic prose considered literature classics now, I’ve debated and taken notes for Adolf’s Mein Kampf and nearly had my cover blown when Richard could not execute a simple plan and was impeached for the Watergate scandal. I learnt my lesson then and have since kept low profile jobs as the personal assistant/ secretary to bigwigs.
I have always found such employment quite easily. I have a fantastic memory for reference work, type really fast, never forget anything and take perfect dictation. Along with the fact that I don’t complain about long hours and have inhuman energy – hah! – I have been told that I am the perfect employee. I think my boss’s also like looking at my cleavage. I always insist on male bosses, far easier than catty human women; they make horrible bosses.
Except that I find it very difficult to keep jobs simply because after a while, I really cannot put up with a stupid human trying to lord it over me.
Yesterday was wasted because my boss’s wife found out he was screwing his junior manager’s wife. I really don’t understand why human men cannot get it straight: If you are screwing another woman, treat your wife right and she will never get suspicious. Stupid men. So my boss was discovered – on YouPorn that too – and wanted me to counsel and placate his wife. Why? I didn’t screw his wife and I definitely was not stupid enough to shoot a video and put it up on the Internet.
At times like that, I can so kill my boss. He is like an irritating fly you just have to swat. But I will not eat him, simply because I don’t like him. I have to like whoever I choose to eat. It’s not always simple though, this habit of eating only what I like. Once I really fell for this human man. I really liked him… And then I had to leave because I liked him so much, I wanted to eat him.
It’s like humans you know; you either eat what you like or you eat because you need nourishment. Since I nourished myself two days back at least my boss will not land on my dinner table. But even if I don’t eat him, I have to do something about my boss. He just does not deserve to live any longer…
Why do I need a job? For the same reason the Cullens in Twilight go to school. It is called keeping up pretences. Also, unlike in popular fiction, vampires don’t always have untold riches to dip into. This vampire for instance is not loaded, not money-wise at least. I have also never managed a bank balance because banks ask too many bloody questions.
My entire day was wasted yesterday because my stupid human boss is not an organised creature. I am personal assistant and secretary to the CEO of a huge bank. For reasons of anonymity, I cannot name the bank. But let me tell you that if I did, the global economic situation will get another kick up its balls.
Over the ages, I have taken up human work that involves writing or taking notes. I have been a scribe at the Temple of Bellona, I have helped William write some fantastic prose considered literature classics now, I’ve debated and taken notes for Adolf’s Mein Kampf and nearly had my cover blown when Richard could not execute a simple plan and was impeached for the Watergate scandal. I learnt my lesson then and have since kept low profile jobs as the personal assistant/ secretary to bigwigs.
I have always found such employment quite easily. I have a fantastic memory for reference work, type really fast, never forget anything and take perfect dictation. Along with the fact that I don’t complain about long hours and have inhuman energy – hah! – I have been told that I am the perfect employee. I think my boss’s also like looking at my cleavage. I always insist on male bosses, far easier than catty human women; they make horrible bosses.
Except that I find it very difficult to keep jobs simply because after a while, I really cannot put up with a stupid human trying to lord it over me.
Yesterday was wasted because my boss’s wife found out he was screwing his junior manager’s wife. I really don’t understand why human men cannot get it straight: If you are screwing another woman, treat your wife right and she will never get suspicious. Stupid men. So my boss was discovered – on YouPorn that too – and wanted me to counsel and placate his wife. Why? I didn’t screw his wife and I definitely was not stupid enough to shoot a video and put it up on the Internet.
At times like that, I can so kill my boss. He is like an irritating fly you just have to swat. But I will not eat him, simply because I don’t like him. I have to like whoever I choose to eat. It’s not always simple though, this habit of eating only what I like. Once I really fell for this human man. I really liked him… And then I had to leave because I liked him so much, I wanted to eat him.
It’s like humans you know; you either eat what you like or you eat because you need nourishment. Since I nourished myself two days back at least my boss will not land on my dinner table. But even if I don’t eat him, I have to do something about my boss. He just does not deserve to live any longer…
Monday, March 30, 2009
Fresh food is healthy
I love dawn. The world shrouded in suspended mystery and the early morning breeze running cold fingers up my skin. I don’t get goose-bumps though. Slowly as the sun rises, the sky looks the colour of a young woman’s blushing cheeks. I do like young women with blushing cheeks.
A blush is caused by blood rushing to the face and neck. It’s also the reason dawn with its blushing sky makes me particularly hungry. Breakfast, after all, is the most important meal in a day. My breakfast is usually the previous night’s leftovers. I did mention yesterday that I needed to drink… and eat.
I find it extremely interesting that even in the fictional rendition of vampires, humans cannot help but juxtapose their morality on to us. Vampires drink blood but leave the human body intact and undefiled. Apparently an intact dead body means a human’s soul can rest in peace.
It’s ironic how humans’ soul concerns are only when they die. When alive, most humans will live soulless lives full of greed, deceit, rape and murder. Like Austrian Josef Fritzl who for 24 years, kept his daughter in a dungeon and raped her. Or the Australian man who raped his step-daughter… and took videos and photographs.
I’ve never hurt a child. Humans eat their own. And yet they call vampires vile?
I needed the warmth last night and went to this swanky restaurant for dinner. I was wearing a white tee shirt with Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride printed on it, the neckline reaching right between my breasts and low-waisted leather pants. I love leather, it is dead skin after all. The restaurant sits on the beach and looks out to the bay. The bay looked beautiful; like a bride in a black wedding gown with twinkling lights for embroidery. Each time the bride walked there was music as the waves crashed gently on the shore.
There was a couple kissing on the beach, the water lapping at their ankles. She had her eyes closed, her body moulded into his, her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling his head down, tasting life in his mouth. He was grabbing her arse and had a hard on. I can’t ‘hear’ thoughts like Edward Cullen, but I can bloody well read body language. She hoped for love, he wanted a lay.
I had ordered steak, rare, of course. I don’t enjoy the taste of cooked food but I do enjoy the aroma. I can smell a food and name all the ingredients that have gone into it. I had taken my ‘dinner’ out to the restaurant’s deck and was still looking at the kissing couple – he was squeezing her now, one hand on the arse the other on her left breast – when this dumb-wit decided to pick me up.
“Food is best when eaten hot luv,” he smiled at me. Five feet eight inches, steroid-pumped muscles rippling under a tee shirt too tight, sleeves rolled up (in a tee?) to show off the guns and skinny jeans. I am prejudiced against men in skinny jeans. If he hadn’t tried to hit on me, I would have thought he was gay. The most interesting feature though was his blood-flushed face.
“What do you suggest I do?” I asked.
“Go somewhere warmer? My place is close,” he suggested.
We drove to his place; a designer apartment pretending to be a ghetto. I still find it hard to empathise with rich people and their sensibilities.
He poured a glass of champagne for me – think it’s his modus operandi – and asked if I wanted to wear shorts or something.
“Do you want to wear something comfortable while we chill?”
“Chill? I thought food is best when eaten hot?” I smiled. He looked confused; I laughed and blamed it on the bubbly.
“You’re a funny girl. I do like your leather pants though. Leather makes me wicked; I could do things to you, you’d never even imagined,” he promised. I smiled.
“So can I,” I said and showed him. He didn’t survive the experience.
Last night I had thigh fillet for dinner. I’ve just finished breakfast; liver pâté.
A blush is caused by blood rushing to the face and neck. It’s also the reason dawn with its blushing sky makes me particularly hungry. Breakfast, after all, is the most important meal in a day. My breakfast is usually the previous night’s leftovers. I did mention yesterday that I needed to drink… and eat.
I find it extremely interesting that even in the fictional rendition of vampires, humans cannot help but juxtapose their morality on to us. Vampires drink blood but leave the human body intact and undefiled. Apparently an intact dead body means a human’s soul can rest in peace.
It’s ironic how humans’ soul concerns are only when they die. When alive, most humans will live soulless lives full of greed, deceit, rape and murder. Like Austrian Josef Fritzl who for 24 years, kept his daughter in a dungeon and raped her. Or the Australian man who raped his step-daughter… and took videos and photographs.
I’ve never hurt a child. Humans eat their own. And yet they call vampires vile?
I needed the warmth last night and went to this swanky restaurant for dinner. I was wearing a white tee shirt with Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride printed on it, the neckline reaching right between my breasts and low-waisted leather pants. I love leather, it is dead skin after all. The restaurant sits on the beach and looks out to the bay. The bay looked beautiful; like a bride in a black wedding gown with twinkling lights for embroidery. Each time the bride walked there was music as the waves crashed gently on the shore.There was a couple kissing on the beach, the water lapping at their ankles. She had her eyes closed, her body moulded into his, her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling his head down, tasting life in his mouth. He was grabbing her arse and had a hard on. I can’t ‘hear’ thoughts like Edward Cullen, but I can bloody well read body language. She hoped for love, he wanted a lay.
I had ordered steak, rare, of course. I don’t enjoy the taste of cooked food but I do enjoy the aroma. I can smell a food and name all the ingredients that have gone into it. I had taken my ‘dinner’ out to the restaurant’s deck and was still looking at the kissing couple – he was squeezing her now, one hand on the arse the other on her left breast – when this dumb-wit decided to pick me up.
“Food is best when eaten hot luv,” he smiled at me. Five feet eight inches, steroid-pumped muscles rippling under a tee shirt too tight, sleeves rolled up (in a tee?) to show off the guns and skinny jeans. I am prejudiced against men in skinny jeans. If he hadn’t tried to hit on me, I would have thought he was gay. The most interesting feature though was his blood-flushed face.
“What do you suggest I do?” I asked.
“Go somewhere warmer? My place is close,” he suggested.
We drove to his place; a designer apartment pretending to be a ghetto. I still find it hard to empathise with rich people and their sensibilities.
He poured a glass of champagne for me – think it’s his modus operandi – and asked if I wanted to wear shorts or something.
“Do you want to wear something comfortable while we chill?”
“Chill? I thought food is best when eaten hot?” I smiled. He looked confused; I laughed and blamed it on the bubbly.
“You’re a funny girl. I do like your leather pants though. Leather makes me wicked; I could do things to you, you’d never even imagined,” he promised. I smiled.
“So can I,” I said and showed him. He didn’t survive the experience.
Last night I had thigh fillet for dinner. I’ve just finished breakfast; liver pâté.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Cold blooded
I also feel like a shag today. Nothing beats a hearty meal and heartier sex. To do or not to do my breakfast, that is the question...
Everything is marketable in the world. Disaster in one part of the globe means starting an aids-market somewhere else. People are dying of starvation in Zimbabwe but it's a marketing tool for the likes of rock band U2's Bono and other celebrities. If there was no suffering, who would they send their aid to? How would they become 'giving' human beings? While the rich do their 'good deed of the day' and contribute money ostensibly for the benefit of the underprivileged; Robert Mugabe's coffers grow everyday.
People have looked down upon vampires ever since our kind first surfaced. Rather ever since the news of our kind first surfaced. Despite the number of books and movies on vampires, no one has really "met" a real vampire. We are simply not that stupid. However, you've had people being killed, maimed and hounded because others thought they were vampires.
If 'blood sucking' was the true description of the vampire, Robert Mugabe would so fit into that category. I wonder if I should go pay him a visit. But just the idea of the cholesterol and other pollutants in his blood makes me sick. That's a joke though, I never fall sick.
I just feel sick. Like today. It is what human's would call a bleak day. There is a calm, cold breeze outside and I can see the trees and the shrubs shivering through my French windows. The birds that are hopping on my lawn don't seem really interested in searching for bugs. There is no sun; even if it peeks out from behind the clouds, it lacks in will to warm. And I feel really, really cold...
Despite popular myth, vampires do feel temperature changes. Only, we feel cold more than we feel hot. Even on the hottest days -- say at 48 degrees celcius -- I would feel warm and comfortable. However, my blood responds much more to a fall in temperature. The colder it is, the colder gets my blood. Like today, each time the wind rushes in with a fresh gust of cold, I can feel it ripple through my veins.
I love warmth and it's on a day like this that I seek it out. But fires don't warm me... The warmth has to come from within. I have to drink today. To feel warm, warm blood run through my veins. Another's blood, to feel it pulsing through is such a thrill. I could also have sex if only I can avoid eating the object of my desire.
Life of a vampire, what a quandary...
Everything is marketable in the world. Disaster in one part of the globe means starting an aids-market somewhere else. People are dying of starvation in Zimbabwe but it's a marketing tool for the likes of rock band U2's Bono and other celebrities. If there was no suffering, who would they send their aid to? How would they become 'giving' human beings? While the rich do their 'good deed of the day' and contribute money ostensibly for the benefit of the underprivileged; Robert Mugabe's coffers grow everyday.
People have looked down upon vampires ever since our kind first surfaced. Rather ever since the news of our kind first surfaced. Despite the number of books and movies on vampires, no one has really "met" a real vampire. We are simply not that stupid. However, you've had people being killed, maimed and hounded because others thought they were vampires.
If 'blood sucking' was the true description of the vampire, Robert Mugabe would so fit into that category. I wonder if I should go pay him a visit. But just the idea of the cholesterol and other pollutants in his blood makes me sick. That's a joke though, I never fall sick.
I just feel sick. Like today. It is what human's would call a bleak day. There is a calm, cold breeze outside and I can see the trees and the shrubs shivering through my French windows. The birds that are hopping on my lawn don't seem really interested in searching for bugs. There is no sun; even if it peeks out from behind the clouds, it lacks in will to warm. And I feel really, really cold...
Despite popular myth, vampires do feel temperature changes. Only, we feel cold more than we feel hot. Even on the hottest days -- say at 48 degrees celcius -- I would feel warm and comfortable. However, my blood responds much more to a fall in temperature. The colder it is, the colder gets my blood. Like today, each time the wind rushes in with a fresh gust of cold, I can feel it ripple through my veins.
I love warmth and it's on a day like this that I seek it out. But fires don't warm me... The warmth has to come from within. I have to drink today. To feel warm, warm blood run through my veins. Another's blood, to feel it pulsing through is such a thrill. I could also have sex if only I can avoid eating the object of my desire.
Life of a vampire, what a quandary...
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Vampires at Boston Latin School?
Bloody funny, these human beings. They make a complete mess of being human and yet now a whole lot of them want to be vampires. Now a nearly-400-years-school -- Boston Latin School, established 1635 -- has its principal sending out official memos asking students and staff to calm down about vampires.
Apparently some students have been spreading a rumour that there's a vampire in their school. Both Boston.com and MTV.com 'reported' the news; MTV doing it with much more style. "And since it is a gloomy, overcast time of the year in Boston right now..." Hah.
Screw botox and cosmetic surgery, 'vampire' is the new answer for ever-lasting beauty. And youth. If vampires were portrayed as stinky and dirty -- you should see me after two night outs -- no one would be as enamoured.
Despite the fact that werewolves and vampires are mentioned in the same breath -- Twilight series, Skinwalkers etc -- no one wants to be a werewolf. In the age of meterosexuality, guess all that hair is unappealing.
I was born beautiful and born a vampire. It's a myth that vampires cannot reproduce. Like so many other fucking myths about us. But more on that some other day...
PS: Some had questions. I am female.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Frills get in the way, you idiot
I will concede to at least one improvement in how vampires have been portrayed over the ages. That would be the death of frills.It's basic science that any flying/swimming Being will have a streamlined body. However, popular vampire fashion is absolutely anti-aerodynamics.
What makes more sense? It being easier to fly naked or wearing body-fitting clothes? Or when you are covered in reams of tulle, net, lace and other such delicate fabric.
Personally, I find vampire fashion in popular fiction and movies quite offensive to my sense of fashion. Over the years that I have seen womens' (under)garments change from corsettes to crotchless; I have NEVER worn anything as ridiculous as flimsy nightgown and gone hunting.
In the era before spandex -- uncomfortable despite the number of 'superheroes' who've worn them -- and then subsequently lycra (thumbs up) were invented; I hunted naked.
There's just something to be said about warm blood trickling down your breasts.
Enough
It's really insulting.
Really insulting that insipid, girl-mouthed Edward Cullen should be taken as the epitome of vampiredom. A vampire who's skin "shines like diamonds" in sunlight.
If I had blood, it would curdle.
My name is Susie Bloodimir and I come from a time when Bellona was still a Roman goddess. Now Belladona is called a myth. Like earlier they called flying, walking on the moon, heart transplants and jet packs myths or impossibilities... Despite them being proven wrong time and again, human beings never seem to learn.
Humans also call vampires a myth. Yet here I am, a sentient being, someone you would call a vampire. I am one of the few of my kind left. The kind of vampire that you don't read about in books or see on television or in movies . Not the kind of vampire that is made.
I was born a vampire.
I am the last of my family... but I know there are other birth vampires. Those whose parents were vampires as well and those who were born after 12-months of gestation.
I am looking for Him. The one who can be my mate. The one who will help me bring another birth vampire to this world. As I chronicle my thoughts and desires in this space, I hope someday, He will read them and find me....
Really insulting that insipid, girl-mouthed Edward Cullen should be taken as the epitome of vampiredom. A vampire who's skin "shines like diamonds" in sunlight.
If I had blood, it would curdle.
My name is Susie Bloodimir and I come from a time when Bellona was still a Roman goddess. Now Belladona is called a myth. Like earlier they called flying, walking on the moon, heart transplants and jet packs myths or impossibilities... Despite them being proven wrong time and again, human beings never seem to learn.
Humans also call vampires a myth. Yet here I am, a sentient being, someone you would call a vampire. I am one of the few of my kind left. The kind of vampire that you don't read about in books or see on television or in movies . Not the kind of vampire that is made.
I was born a vampire.
I am the last of my family... but I know there are other birth vampires. Those whose parents were vampires as well and those who were born after 12-months of gestation.
I am looking for Him. The one who can be my mate. The one who will help me bring another birth vampire to this world. As I chronicle my thoughts and desires in this space, I hope someday, He will read them and find me....
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