Impressions of Vampirism

Handel W. Care


Below me, above me, around me is the city. A mote amid its immensity, I stand and extend perceptions that allow me a more intensive survey of the region than any man made spy satellite. Technology has set limits; it cannot feel the minds, see in all the secret places, know them, with the same ease as I, a solitary man. A mocking grin parts my lips even as I step forwards through the evening crowds, unnoticed by any there, although several move aside to let me through the lines outside the various clubs. My own state constantly amuses me, and always has done - whether it is noting my habit of referring to myself as a man or the certainty that I died over five hundred years ago. In that way, for certain, my vampiric state has not altered me, although sometimes I wonder.

Those thing I can remember of the man I was are not always crystal clear, or if they are there tends to be a dark liquid adding uncertainty, perhaps. I recall Simkins, the first man I killed, and how the red fury dissipated so quickly, leaving me holding a bloody knife and letting loose the contents of my stomach across the pier. Through time I have become inured to the taking of life, to a greater or lesser degree. Maybe this is in part due to the effects of the bestial taint that seems inherent in our condition, but at least an equal quantity must be due to the distancing effect of time after time, a habit of just not worrying too much about it.

Although I like to think of myself as a caring individual I am still aware that my outlook has been warped in subtle and gross ways over the ages, though, hopefully, not to the degree of some. Time and events more than any demonic stain have led to changes, I feel; blaming vampirism itself in anything but a minor way for my own foibles seems cowardly, frankly. A sentient being with its own will should be able to overcome most any trials of the spirit.

Inside it is warm, causing me to shrug off my coat, whether through design, habit or to allay suspicion I can no longer say - perhaps a modicum of all. At the bar I gather the necessary and then find a spot next to the man who is the reason I am here. He looks unimpressed with my choice of meeting place, but I am not accustomed to entertaining others aboard ship or in the Elysium if I am to be playing the host. I am quite certain he'll get over it, especially once he's got a few down him. No doubt it's been a while since he drank anything but oh so precious vitae. How quickly they forget.

Recollections; ties that bind. Faintly there are reminiscences of my mother, but these are more of an idealised montage than any specific incidents. After my entrance into the happy state I now find myself in I certainly went through periods of which I remember not a thing, even now.

In recent years a great deal of my memories have returned to me and I have seen the cyclic, ouroborous like way in which my own mind trapped me.

Forgetfulness can be a blessing, but I feel it limits ones choices in further growth a little too much. A man is made of his memories, after all; the longer lived, the more so it must be true. To properly face the future one should know oneself.

Across from me my companion is looking in amazement at his glass, the expression certainly hard to decipher if it were not for his aura showing so strongly. Reading the faces of Nosferatu can be an exercise in futility at times, the mangled remains of human seeming hardly making it an easy prospect. Looking at his Mask could probably be a lot easier, but I like to see real faces. Long term habits again.

Drinking has been a mainstay throughout both of my forms of existence. Some may call it dementia, I simply call it habit, and a pleasing one at that. The point of having spent hundreds of years seeking a means of having access in a way other than through secondary blood products is one barely worth mentioning, really. Of course, it did cause me to become horribly disenchanted with my undead existence over those years on several occasions, but we all have our crosses to bear at some stage.

With the drink I feel more a part of the living, breathing society around me, just as the first step of learning how to force down liquid other than blood very early in my unlife did. Of course the flavour and effect are more of the actual reason, but I'm waxing somewhat poetical just now.

These pieces of my former life battled for and regained may give one the idea of a wish to return entirely to mortality - I think not, at least not for the moment. Over the years I have become accustomed to my state and have come to revel in aspects of it. Having abilities beyond those of many others is something that the human condition is quite happy to put up with - whether it be a stronger body, greater attractiveness, a higher intellect or any number of things. Fantastic supernatural gifts can be a definite bonus too. A diet change and a need to stay out of the sunlight are things that some people would certainly put up with for these enhancements, and that many have. It's a pretty good deal in my opinion, even with the other problems. So long as one doesn't get eaten by something bigger it generally works out. Okay, so I'm an optimist.

Business completed, I pick up the comatose form of my not so talkative companion and leave the bar. You'd have thought that someone that big would be able to hold his liquor, but appearances can be deceptive.

After having basically poisoned the poor fellow I'd best find a likely donor to replenish his reserves and make like the apologetic heavy handed host. Never mind, it's not as if he's going to be unable to recover, and it's certainly been a learning experience for him. That's all life, and unlife, is, really. One just hopes that one can help others learn too.

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