Monday, November 2, 2015


I climbed down into that deep, dank pit. Without the vampire blood, I could never have done it... hand under hand, grabbing with my feet, naked and scared. Was I a vampire yet? Well, let's just say I'd passed the point of no return, but had yet to reach my destination. Did I know I was still Danny? I don't know who I thought I was. I don't know if what I did was based on instinct, or what happened.

When I got to the bottom, the two pathetic victims huddled together, whimpering. The Russian vamperina-ballerina yelled down to me, from her place, seventy five feet above, leaning over the edge of the circular barrier. She looked like a crazed 'divinity' haranguing Roman believers on the floor of The Pantheon, through her perch on the Oculus high in its dome..... She said - Take her! Take her! The big one! The brood mare! The one I picked for you!...... But to be honest, neither one looked strong, or big to me. Though I knew what she meant. My mind was her mind. Whether forever, or just for now, I didn't know. So I 'took' one of the girls. I suppose the right one, for the voice from above yelled no more. Later, I learned this is a vampire custom, 'allow the human line to go on.' Some females are 'allowed' to bear a child before transformation. If you've been part of our group since the beginning, readers I mean, you know about Jonathon and how he 'came over.' You know how Sarah is a distant descendant of his 'mortal' line. Well, I have a mortal line too. Please remember that I am only forty four years in the blood. Sometimes I tell people it happened earlier. But that's a lie. Vampires relish a bit of notoriety, though at heart we are a private breed. Still, I will tell you that the child of that union, only forty three years old, now lives in a pleasant split level house just outside of Ocean City, New Jersey. And I have three grandchildren. Their matriarch, whose name I never knew, died, or was made to die in childbirth. But our daughter was given to a couple named Greyson and they did right by her. She married a good man too. I see them from time to time and leave gifts on the doorsteps. I'll have to stop that now, what with home-security-cameras and all. Maybe I'll mail them.

The remaining girl did not go on. She became my first meal. The blood we receive from our creators changes, but in no way nourishes us. Only living humans can do that.

When I first bit into that sad, sad thing she went limp ... 'the death swoon,' they call it. But when life finally left her all I felt was a col, enduring hate.

When it was over, when the ordeal was through, Two of the headless things carried me to a room... another dark place, dim, lit by candles. They were all like that. And that's where I suffered the 'shedding of the skin.' The last of my humanity, or my mortal self, I should say, was gone.

Do you think there is romance in this? Do you think vampires are infused with magic and wonder? Well, if they are, each individual vampire must weave that truth for himself. I saw no glory in it.

Now go follow your Jonathon and Sarah... your Vampire Revels and memories of Old Al Andalus. Go read about 'noble' vampires and their 'noxious' cousins and the beautiful Baylah, a kidnapped princess from Timbuctu. Talk about the enchanted 'Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn' and night-folk friends in London and every place else. That truth is not my truth.

But if it's pleasant to you, embrace it.

I had meant to whitewash my tale and gild it in theatrical perfection. I am at heart an actor and that seemed right to me. But as the words spilled out, what 'seemed' right no longer mattered. Sometimes things play out that way.

That's just how it is.

I am here. I patrol these streets and do my job. We'll meet again....

I am Danny, in form a sixteen year old boy, but so much more than that...

<more next time>


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