Vampire Population Control

In the movies, television shows, comic books and novels, anyone can become a Vampire and then it's all hunky-dory. Real-life Vampires operate by a different set of rules in the name of survival. If the real-world Vampires were as careless as their fictional counterparts, they would have vanished eons ago. No society can survive without rules, and a proper hierarchy. Those are the most basic things needed for any sort of society, and Vampires are no exception.

The Vampires are out there, and humans see them every day without knowing what they are. The average Vampire doesn't dress or act like a gothic reject. They can look like truckers, waitresses, businesspeople, punks, any type of person, really. Here's what the humans get right about Vampires. They are nocturnal creatures, and Vampirism is spread through a virus transmitted via bites or blood transfusions. There's much that the humans get wrong, though.

For starters, out of pure necessity, Vampires limit their own numbers. The average Vampire needs to drink the amount of blood contained within the body of a human every two weeks in order to function at optimal levels. What does this mean? In order for a single Vampire to live, twenty six humans must perish, every year. Consider this simple mathematical formula when you think of all the cases of missing people around the world, folks. In order for a Vampire to live, humans must die.

New York City has a population of eight million ninety seven thousand two hundred and eighty two humans as of 2024. How many Vampires can such a city sustain since every Vampire must end twenty six human lives in order to survive? New York City and its millions of human souls can only sustain a maximum number of three hundred and eleven thousand four hundred and thirty three Vampires. Fortunately for New York City's human populace, the Vampires Ruling Council or VRC has decreed that only five thousand Vampires can reside there.

The VRC's authority is absolute. They're not like the U.N. or other similar human governing bodies. The Vampires of NYC are all documented and accounted for. The VRC knows where they are at all times. A special delivery system provides them with fresh human blood harvested from blood banks every two weeks. The delivery system is funded by the Vampire tax system or VTS. NYC's Vampires get to live quiet, productive lives. As long as they don't break the rules. They must not do anything to expose the existence of Vampires to the human world. They must not hunt humans. Failure to adhere to those two basic but all-important rules will result in death. The VRC sends the Hunters to get rid of 'undesirables' among the Vampire population...

"New York City isn't big enough for all of us," Rasmus Untalan said, shaking his head. The six-foot-tall, dark-skinned and silver-haired Vampire looked at the newbies with all the regard one gives to cockroaches on one's kitchen floor. Undesirables are the worst of the worst. Decked out in a black leather jacket, red turtleneck shirt, black jeans and black Timberland boots, Rasmus cut a dashing figure. Not bad for a Vampire who has been walking the earth since the days of the American Civil War.

"You don't tell us shit," said Rita Niazi. The tall, dark-haired and bronze-skinned newbie female Vampire, a native of Istanbul, flashed her fangs. Rita glared defiantly at Rasmus. For a year and a half, she'd been roaming the Big Apple with the swagger common to newbie Vampires. A former stripper and prostitute, Rita had been a nocturnal sort long before she got turned into a Vampire. This gal doesn't scare easily either.

"Look, we don't want any trouble," said Lance Whyte, the blond-haired and blue-eyed male Vampire standing to Rita's right. Rita shot Lance a look and the blond Vampire shrugged. Lance had been a staple of the Carnal Sin, the strip club where Rita had been a star, and after becoming a Vampire, she turned him into one as well. For a year and a half, Lance and Rita roamed the streets of NYC together, killing and feeding. It seems that their nocturnal predations finally caught up with them.

"I take no pleasure in this," Rasmus said as he whipped out his twin Glock pistols. Rita and Lance flinched, not because of the guns but because of the ammo. Even from a distance of twenty feet, the Vampires could smell the silver bullets. Silver has always been a Vampire's bane, along with sunlight. Crosses and holy water didn't do shit to the undead. There's nothing supernatural about the Vampire species. They're just a function of natural selection.

"Fuck you," Rita roared as she leapt at Rasmus with a dagger in each hand. Lance shook his head as Rita launched herself at the black Vampire. Moving faster than anything human, Rasmus recoiled and fired with steady hands. Two bullets thudded into Rita, center of mass. The Turkish female Vampire shrieked in pain and fell to the ground. The silver bullets did their work, burning the Vampire from the inside out. Within moments, Rita was a pile of smoldering ash.

"You killed her," Lance said, flashing his fangs in anger. Rasmus nodded and then fired at him. Lance ducked and then ran, moving with a speed that a cheetah would envy. The blond Vampire leapt onto the alley wall and climbed it like Spiderman. The ability to cling to any solid surface is common to all Vampires. As Lance climbed the building, Rasmus came after him.

"I love a good chase," Rasmus murmured as he followed Lance up the wall. The blond Vampire leapt onto the rooftop of what had been a warehouse in midtown Manhattan. Two seconds after Lance landed on the roof, Rasmus arrived. The black Vampire scanned his surroundings. Lance was nowhere to be seen. Rasmus knew that the rookie Vampire couldn't have vanished into thin air. Licking his lips, Rasmus explored the area. Where was the fucker hiding?

"Bastard," Lance roared as he leapt at Rasmus. Clinging to the side of the roof, he flew at Rasmus with speed that almost caught the black Vampire unawares. In spite of himself, Rasmus had to admire Lance's strategy. Rasmus initially thought the newbie Vampire had left the premises. Clever strategy but not clever enough. As Lance flew at him, Rasmus ducked, whirled around and fired. Silver bullets flew into Lance before he could connect with Rasmus.

"Rest in peace, young blood," Rasmus said to Lance's ashes. With his task done, the black Vampire left the premises. Rita and Lance were the alphas and last remaining members of a small band of Vampires that Rasmus had been hunting for a while now. The newbie Vampires were all dead but who was their Maker? Rasmus had hoped to take at least one of the newbie Vampires alive. Analysis of the newbie Vampire's DNA would have revealed his or her Maker, the same way human DNA analysis could reveal someone's parentage. Modern Vampires are high-tech and well-organized as a matter of survival.

Rasmus left the area and returned to the Cadre, home of the NYC branch of the VRC. The Vampires government office was located in a nondescript building. On the surface, it was a textiles and antiques business owned by a corporate group. All a front, of course. The place was a call center, an armory, a casern, a training facility for Vampire enforcers and a meeting for Vampire officials. Rasmus went to meet with his Boss, Joanna Serrano.

"Welcome back, big man," said Joanna Serrano. The curvy, bronze-skinned and dark-haired, Mexican-born Vampire gal looked regal in a sequined red dress. Joanna had once been a princess among the fearsome Mixtec people of Mexico, whose territory ranged from Oaxaca to Puebla and Guerrero in central Mexico. Joanna was born in 1490 and became a Vampire in 1523 after being bitten by Juan Serrano, a Vampire conquistador from Spain.

"It's good to be back, senora," Rasmus said as he bowed his head gently. Serrano gave him her famous smile of gentle wisdom. She'd been around for more than five centuries and barely looked thirty. Rasmus, who'd been born to free black parents in Boston circa 1827, became a Vampire in 1861 at the age of thirty-four. Once a human is turned into a Vampire, he or she stops aging. Immortality ( as long as one doesn't get killed ) is the blessing of the Vampire existence.

"We must find out which one of NYC's law-abiding Vampires turned Rita Niazi, Lance Whyte and their acolytes," Serrano said after Rasmus completed his report. Rasmus sighed and nodded. The African American Vampire had been looking forward to vacationing in the Caribbean. Saint Lucia, Trinidad, Barbados, any of the islands would do. Rasmus just wanted to be someplace exotic, with warm weather and beautiful women. NYC sucked in the wintertime even worse than Rasmus hometown of Boston. Looks like the vacation was postponed...indefinitely.

"As you wish, senora," Rasmus said, and he saluted Joanna Serrano, Vampire Boss Lady, before exiting the office. He walked past the three-hundred-person call center. There were men and women of all hues, all of them Vampires, seated at their cubicles. With headsets on, they typed data into their computers while talking to clients. Every Vampire in need of anything from blood delivery to transportation services and relocation services in New York State called them. The Vampire community is nothing if not organized. They pioneered blood delivery services by car long before humans conceived of Uber Eats.

Walking out of the Cadre building in East Harlem, Rasmus saluted the suited and well-armed human security guards who watched over the place, night and day. These men and women were the daytime guardians of the Vampire government stronghold. They had no idea what they were guarding. The Vampires paid well for the humans loyalty and discretion. From the ranks of these loyal human servants are future Vampires selected. The VRC doesn't permit Vampires to turn humans willy-nilly. There are rules. Rasmus had once been a loyal servant of the Vampires before he was turned. Now he hunts Vampires who break the rules. The existence of a Vampire cop sucks, doesn't it? Oh well, Rasmus does what he has to do and that's that.