I was freaking out. Or so that's what the humans would call it. It was hours before the night was over but I was mentally exhausted.
There was something I need to do first. I needed to go to the church I always visited after I took a victim. My strange visits there always soothed me afterwards. What was I supposed to do? I had to feed off of blood. That's how I lived. I tried to go without it once. It was absolutely unbarable. I had been curious about human guilt. The man that I never got out of my head was what humans call a drug dealer. They always make them out to be one of the most evil forces on the planet. I never understood it. This man went beyond drugs, he had done things in the past. Before he came to his current residence. Every time the investigators came to talk with him, he proclaimed his innocence, which his actions proved that he obviously was not. There were always people coming in and out of the house. Even when he knew the investigators were outside watching him from a dark van. It really didn't make any sense logically. It seemed as if he was asking to be picked up by them.
The night his home was invaded by many of the investigators (or police, he called them himself), I killed him. His mind was always foggy with ideas that dreamed of killing a mass amount of people. Knowing something of killing people, I thought I would like to know what his version of this was. His started with his own family. Sometimes he would think about slitting their throats when they are sleeping. No, that's too simple. He would say. He thought about torturing them first. Rape the girl-mother, over and over again. Poison the bratty six-year-old. Replace the bubble bath with battery acid for the four-year-old. Since the baby was always crying for expensive formula, it could starve to death. Drag it on for months. Watch them slowly die. Watch them as they suffer, become pale and lethargic. Their bloodshot eyes would make him happy. Their pleas for a release. They would promise not to go to the police. He wouldn't have cared either way.
That evening I was observing him. The police started to sneak around the house, and a couple of them went to the front door. He looked out the window and saw them on the crumbling steps. The two men on the steps seemed to be ready for anything. I was intrigued by the events happening. I watched even closer. The man didn't open the door for them. I went inside the house, invisible. The man was overly excited and started gathering everybody into a small closet. The baby was screaming and the other children were crying. The young girl was silent. Her mind said he's going to kill us here. Her resolve in the moment was profound. She was so calm. He purposely abused them on a daily basis, it was as if she knew it was going to happen eventually and she just gave up. I tried to reach out to her, to tell her everything was going to be ok. Her head was closed completely, there was no way in. I didn't want these young people to die. They were good. They were in their hearts, innocent.
He was getting certain items together and was mumbling something about what he was going to do. When they run the house everyone is going to die together. me, the police, and that stupid girl and her pathetic children. Bomb, bomb, bomb. The audible laughing was the only coherent voice coming from him now. Suddenly the only thing I wanted to do was to make him suffer as he made them all suffer. I wanted him to die, like he wanted them to die. This time it had nothing to do with a blood hunger. He wasn't even worth it.
I grabbed the man around the neck. His name was John. Bloodshot eyes stared back at me in confusion, his arms flailed and searched for the unseen force that was holding him five inches from the ten feet high ceilings. I swung him around and slammed him into the ceiling, making the frail plaster to fall on top of him and onto the floor. He attempted to scream and I wrapped my other hand around his throat, only allowing him to choke on his voice. The contempt on his face was frightening. Wanting him to see what suffering is I let my invisibility down. I was whole to him, a red-haired skinny woman with red pupils and blue irises. The sudden paleness of his skin was still darker than mine, the contempt was completely gone. I was determined to truly be the monster he envisioned of himself within his dark thoughts. Smiling at him, it revealed two large sharp canine teeth. Vampire? He asked. I lowered him to the floor and climbed on top of him.
There wasn't much time. The police were getting ready to come into the house. The mother and children were locked in the closet. Looking down at him, he was silent.
"How would you like to die?" I put to him the question for amusement purposes only. There was no answer. Making hissing sounds that came from my chest, he comprehended that I really spoke. He thought he imagined it.
"Are...you," he began with a raspy voice, " you, a...a.....a..Vampire?"
"If that is what you would like to call me, go ahead," I paused, "NOW!" I yelled in my loudest whisper right next to his left ear. I shattered it with the high pitch. "Answer me, how would you like to die?!"
He screamed when his eardrum disintegrated. His body was telling him to grab the ear, my right hand holding both of his with a strength that was immeasurable wouldn't allow it. I bent down and kissed his forehead. He was still screaming in pain, soft kisses went down the side of his face and I licked the salty tears streaming down it. I straddled him and made sure the part of me that men find the most worthy was rubbing against his pants. The hardening was beginning. What humans call adrenaline was rushing through me and I could smell the blood. Wanting to make everything last as long as possible, that familiar headiness that I love was taking over and I let it go. I wanted to rape him. It was impossible to do so in the current situation and time constraints. So I took my hand off his knowing he wasn't going to be able to throw me off of him and cut his throat with my razor sharp fingernails. The blood rushed out immediately and began to pool on the floor around his neck and head. The scent of it was overwhelming and I almost lost control. I dipped my finger into the blood and held it over him. It dripped onto his eyelids, cheek and mouth. "You wanted a taste of blood? Well here it is." John still had pain in his ear but his arousal and the blood dripping onto him distracted him. He opened his mouth and licked his lips.
"You are going to make me like you aren't you?" his voice was so soft, he was weakening. Laughing softly I knelt down to him, "Silly, I am not one of your human fairytales. I am the real thing. I am demon, I am evil, I will kill you." John's expression changed immediately as he finally realized his fate. Just as quickly as I attacked him, I put my mouth to the gash on his throat and drained him. His final thoughts were of forgiveness. Forgiveness by God, asking Him to be forgiven, praying that he would not go to hell.
The police and his family found him on the floor dead. He was alone. He suffered greatly. That is what was on the mind of everybody looking down at him. I let him off easy. He deserved much more. The other thoughts and actions that went through his mind when he was dying and praying to God to save him depicted several other rapes and murders, people of all ages, from the newborn to the elderly. Disgusts seems funny to describe a being like me to have, but, it was true. I was purely disgusted with him. I was a killer myself, but I didn't kill the innocent. I went after men who were evil in their hearts and minds. Each time I killed one of them, they always revealed their deeds done in the past. This one reviled me more than the rest because he asked for God. Who is God? Why was he asking him for forgiveness?? Something within me told me that he would not be forgiven. The drug dealer personality was a fake. He was a psychopath. All along the plan was to kill. He seduced the girl-mother into loving him. He tricked her to get pregnant. He began selling all types of drugs. All to lure the police, all to kill the innocent and vulnerable. At that point, he didn't care if he was going to get caught, the FBI was already onto him from his actions in another state. He just wanted a tiny piece of revenge before he got put away for good to his death.
So much for revenge.
I wanted scream. The blood was not satisfying this time. The word God. I heard it, and now it was driving me crazy. I just left the house and started walking down the street. The flashing red, blue and white lights were fading behind me. All of the neighbors were standing outside wondering what had happened. I was lost. Lost to myself, I just walked. Walked as slow as humans walk. My heart was beating excitedly . I felt like screaming. The restraint I had prevented me from doing so, it would shatter their eardrums in a five mile radius. Eventually my slow pace halted me and I just collapsed. I blacked out and when I awoke, there was a lady standing above me.
"are you okay miss?" her voice was sweet, childlike and comforting.
"hmm. You need to leave." the hardness in mine, made us both jump.
"No, you need help, let me call 911. Wait," she paused and looked around.
"I don't need any help." It didn't even register to me that I was speaking to her. I only spoke to my victims when I was killing them.
"Well, you do need help, but I saw you come from that window of the house, so you probably don't want any." Her soft voice was whispering to me. I reached into her mind and found the memory of me climbing. Stupid! If she saw me, then how many others saw me? It wasn't like I was afraid of them, I was more worried about them being afraid of me. I was a monster, they were my food.
"You saw me leave the house?" I asked her.
