Somali Vampire Nomad

A lot of fuss is made over one's ethnic ancestry, nationality and religion nowadays. I honestly don't know what's behind that trend. In the community that I live in, blood is essential but not the way you think. The name is Yousef Osman and I'm a young Black man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario.

In mortal life, I was a proud member of the Somali community of Alberta, where I was born. One day, at the tender age of twenty five, I was forcibly transformed into what I am today. I've got no choice but to live life as what I've become. Any life is better than no life at all, I guess.

"End of the road for you buddy," I said to my prey, a twenty-something gay white male named Josh, whom I picked up at the Honest Lawyer bar in downtown Ottawa. All night we'd been drinking and making out, and now, I've got him alone and it's time to end this little dance. Josh blinked nervously, and didn't even fight or protest when I sank my fangs into his neck, and drank my fill.

A vampire's got to feed, it's a fact of life, we got no choice in the matter. I disposed of Joshua's body properly, making sure that he wouldn't come back. No one shall ever hear of him or see him again. By morning, there'll be nothing but ashes left of him.

"May the Creator have mercy on your soul," I whisper, as I stand in front of the old incinerator, and watch as the flames lick Joshua's body, and he is mercifully spared the fate which continues to plague me. I watch him burn, then walk away, lost in thought.

It's around four in the morning when I reach my place in Nepean. I live in a basement apartment on Prince of Wales, not far from the Carleton University campus. I walk in, feeling good after a successful hunt. My room is fairly big, and the windows are blissfully covered by thick curtains. I go straight to bed, feeling the drowsiness that the approach of the sun has on all of my kind, as far as I know.

As I lie on my bed, my thoughts turn to the old days, days when I could face the sun. I was born in the City of Edmonton, Alberta, in 1972. My parents, Amir and Khadija Osman are immigrants from Somaliland. I lived a normal life, going to the local Masjid on Fridays, playing with the guys and gals in my neighborhood, and cheering for the Calgary Flames.

In 1990, I began my freshman year at the University of Calgary, and enrolled in the business administration program. I wanted to become a businessman, since I've always had a head for numbers and I'm naturally shrewd. Life was pretty mundane, until one night, I went to this bar and met this tall, absolutely gorgeous, twenty-something Arab chick named Mariam Abdulwahab there.

Like a lot of Somali guys, I find Arab women simply irresistible and I was drawn to Mariam like a moth to the proverbial flame. Tall and curvy, with light bronze skin, long black hair and golden brown eyes, Mariam was very beautiful. We talked and flirted, and I learned that she was a newcomer to Calgary by way of Yemen.

If you know anything about Somalis, you'll know that lots of us live in Yemen and that they're our closest neighbors. Lots of Yemenis have married Somalis and vice versa. Our cultures, while different, share many similarities. I was a bit surprised to see a cute Yemeni gal like Mariam at a bar, to tell you the truth, and told her as much.

"Let's just say that I am full of surprises," Mariam said, smiling wickedly, and I nodded at that, admiring her fearless smile. Clad in a black leather jacket over a red tank top, blue jeans and black leather boots, Mariam was simply mesmerizing. And the lady appeared to be feeling me! We talked, drank and flirted all night, and then Mariam surprised me by inviting me back to her place. I thought it was my lucky night. Little did I know that from that moment on, my existence would be irrevocably changed.

"Let's have some fun together handsome," Mariam whispered into my ear, and that's all I needed to hear. Mariam and I walked out of that bar, and went back to her place. Once there, we had ourselves some fun. Understand that until that point, my sexual experiences with girls had been quite limited. I grew up in a strict Somali household, after all.

Like many Somali guys I knew, I experimented sexually with other guys, mostly the ones I would encounter at Somali community events and whatnot. I was attracted to both guys and girls, mind you, but it was easier to find guys to bang. Somali girls were out of our reach, thanks to fourteen centuries of Islamic tradition.

"You're amazing," I said to Mariam, as we got down and dirty in her bedroom. We rolled around on the bed, having undressed hastily. I feasted my eyes on Mariam's gorgeous, voluptuous body. I kissed her passionately, and fondled her tits. Mariam arched her back and moaned, urging me to continue.

I kissed Mariam from her head to her toes, and the lady giggled as I buried my face between her thighs, and began licking her pussy. I licked her pussy, loving the smell and taste of her womanhood. Mariam giggled softly, and I fingered her cunt while teasing her clit with my tongue.

For ages I'd dreamed of making love to a gorgeous Arab woman, the ultimate forbidden fruit for African Muslim men like myself, and now, thanks to Mariam Abdulwahab, my fantasy was coming true. We made passionate love that night, and for many reasons, it was a night I would never forget.

Mariam was a wild woman, folks. The lady got on all fours, pressed her big round butt against my groin and urged me to fuck her. As if a horny brother like me wanted or needed any encouragement. I was a very passionate young man in those days, seriously.

"You've got it Wallahi," I whispered, my dreamy eyes caressing Mariam's thick Yemeni ass. Emboldened by her wildness, I spanked Mariam's ass while thrusting my hard dick into her cunt. Hard and fast I fucked her, slamming my dick into her cunt from behind.

"Just like that, Somali boy, fuck me hard," Mariam cried out, and the lady moaned deeply as I fucked her. We went at it for a long while, fucking and sucking the night away, and finally, I lay exhausted on the bed next to Mariam, spent in the most wonderful way possible.

"That was fun," I said, looking at Mariam through glazed, pleasantly tired eyes, and the gorgeous Arab gal smiled, and then...her face changed. Mariam's eyes flashed crimson, and her teeth elongated and sharpened, becoming wicked-looking fangs. Before I could cry out, Mariam grabbed me and sank her fangs into my neck.

That night, I died, and my family buried me. I was just another black male victim of an unusual crime in Alberta, and there wasn't much fuss made. Seventy two hours after my death, I rose from the grave and after clawing my way out, guess who I found waiting for me?

"Welcome to a new world," Mariam Abdulwahab said, smiling at me. I looked at her, and for a long moment, I just stared because I had a lot of questions. What had happened to me? What did I become? Mariam and I talked and she told me that she turned me into a vampire.

"Thanks to me you now have a chance at living forever," Mariam said, when I asked her why she'd chosen me. Truth be told, as I would later discover, Mariam, an impulsive newcomer to the world of the Undead, changed me just to see whether she could do it, and had no major plans for me. We parted ways a few months after my Rising, and honestly, I don't miss her.

There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The tale of how I, Yousef Osman of metropolitan Edmonton, Alberta, lost my life and, against my will, joined Club Undead. I left provincial Alberta, and wandered all over the continent of North America.

I spent years in Minnesota, for the Somali American community had begun to fascinate me. Finally, in the early 2010s, I returned to Canada. Now I'm just living day to day, or rather, night to night, in the City of Ottawa. I meet girls and guys, at clubs, bars, college campuses and malls.

I seduce them, and sometimes feed on them. I am discrete. I am careful. And I know better than to bring someone into the Hell that my existence has become, unlike Mariam Abdulwahab. I told her that the next time we meet, I'd kill her. Why? Thanks to her, I've lost my humanity.

At the time, Mariam Abdulwahab laughed, for she thought I was kidding. Bitch doesn't know me and that's her problem. I don't like being a vampire. It's just something I've got to live with, the way some people live with Diabetes, or male pattern baldness. I take it a day at a time, it's the best I can do, under current conditions.