Blessed art Thou, O Creator-King, Who enables me to share this truth~~~. This is how I help people. This is how I make up for taking lives, even when those lives are meant to be taken. My blood can also save people. It has certain qualities of preservation. I have cartons of these little vials. They used to use them for perfume samples not too long ago. I have thousands of them. I slice into a finger tip with an old fashioned razor blade and dribble a few drops of my wondrous elixir into the tiny, glass tube. Then I seal it shut with a bit of wax taken from dime store birthday candles. I stuff a few of them down my shirt and go on my way. I walk by houses and feel the lives of those inside. When I stumble upon a deserving soul I sublimate through the wall and go inside. There is a speech that I say... 'Fear not. I am sent to balm your wounds. I am here to make all things right.' They think I'm a guardian angel of some sort. Well, I am. I'm the sort of guardian angel that is actually a guardian vampire. So what? Who cares? At least I get results. The subject usually bursts into tears. I comfort them, while managing to dribble a few drops of my red medicine past their lips. Afflictions vanish. All is well. Spiritual strength is renewed. And I even fill their coffers too with whatever I scavenge from my evil victims. One poor grandmother with two toddlers to manage got a stack of one hundred dollar bills from some drug dealer, plus the deed to a condo in Atlantic City, New Jersey, complete with the keys and everything. It was all legitimate. I have an advocate who helps me. You'd be surprised at the people who help me. Some of them do it because they believe in my work, others to keep me away from their door, or their throats actually. There's an old grizzled man who sleeps on steam vents. He's been homeless for eleven years. I slipped a solid gold, diamond encrusted Rolex watch on his wrist a few nights ago (from a shady, extortionist doctor), along with a pocket full of loose cut, high-quality emeralds. I seem to remember that the total worth was somewhere in the vicinity of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Then I woke him up and arranged for a suite at a fine hotel. It's easy to mesmerize desk clerks. He saw the watch and not the filthy sleeve above it. When last I heard, my grizzled ward was keeping company with the widow of a wealthy real estate developer and they were contemplating a small investment in Belize. In a few nights I'll be due for my monthly feeding. I'm starting to feel the hunger. During the day, during the time when I leave this world, I have visions. I see the image of my next meal. Each night the picture grows ever clearer, until I know the soul and all their faults. Then I just go out and do my duty. Such is life... or death in my case. Oh, look. There is my favorite Starbucks. I think I will go in (remember, it is a familiar of mine who transcribes this. I communicate with his mind, while I am free to wander at my leisure). The lovely young girl inside thinks I remind her of some curly haired swain on a television show called Entourage. I will have to watch it sometime. Oh, I am so very vain. The other girl, the one in the clothier's, tells me I look best in Dolce and Gabbana. Who am I to argue? What I could tell her about the goods vended in the souks of Marrakesh. But for now, I will just snuggle into a deep, leather chair near the fire (conditioned air makes it bearable) and contemplate my meal. Who knows, perhaps it will be you? The aroma here is so like what I remember in the coffee houses of old Granada. Let me un focus my gaze for a moment or two and lose myself in my thoughts. There is a land where dreams are born. I know, for I have been there. And I seem to think that some of you have wandered through there too.