It's a wonder there aren't more attacks in the middle of the night on college campuses. What cold-blooded vampire wouldn't relish the thought of tucking away in the shadows, just waiting for the prettiest co-ed to saunter her way out of class for the night, only to have himself young and incredibly tasty meal.
Who cares if the Sherrif frowns upon that sort of thing? We have fangs, dammit, and I know of at least one vampire who plans on using his. I didn't become a vampire to spend my entire life sitting around in some dark den sipping bitter liquid from a glass bottle. I had enough of that when I was in college.
University of Chicago is my favorite -- plenty of places to hide. Lots of trees and bushes, not to mention the shadows provided to me by the buildings. I suppose I could just wander about, make the co-eds think I'm a faculty member or something -- I do have the look. It would be so easy for me to just sit on a bench in front of the library, let the Chicago wind ruffle my hair and make like I'm ... I dunno, Professor Jensen or some bullshit like that.
But I can't. I just love the thrill of the hunt too much. My heart hasn't beat in almost 30 years, but every time I close in on a kill, I swear I can hear it thumping away in my ears again. The rush is impossible to describe, and even harder to ignore.
I have to hunt. I have to kill.
Oh, would you look at that ... pretty little co-ed at 9 o'clock. Just getting out of class, rummaging through her brown purse for her cell phone. Doesn't even notice the other students filing past her. I wait until they're gone, watch her sit on one of the wooden benches and thumb through her mobile. There isn't much light where she's sitting; she's probably a freshman, not keen to the ways of staying safe on a college campus.
I decide to make my move, then stop. The professor walks by, says good night to the girl. I see her face for the first time, a lovely pear framed by long red locks. She wears her sweater well, and even though I'm a good 100 or so yards out, I think I can hear her pulse.
Fuck, I'm starving ...
The professor disappears into the night, holding his leather briefcase and puffing on a cigarette. I snarl at the scent, hating how it mixes with and masks the girl's addictive odor. She's wearing perfume, sure, but her blood is what I notice most. Hey, don't judge me ... I'm a vampire; we tend to go all one-track-mind when it comes to blood.
Like a junkie needs his next fix, we need the next open vein. And I'm staring at mine.
A bird russles in the tree behind me. Though the shadows give me plenty of cover, I duck as the girl turns to look in my direction. If they weren't so fucking disgusting, I'd eat the bird right now, for almost ruining my dinner. But the girl goes back to her cell phone, obviously in no hurry to get wherever she has to go.
The coast is clear; there's no one around but me and her. One good lunge, and I could have her. No harm, no foul. No one would know, no one would see. I could just grab her, drag her back into the darkness and drink to my unbeating heart's content. If they find a body in the morning, so what? They might be able to figure out a vampire did this, but there's no way they'd trace it back to me.
And if they did? Well, I'll just burn that fruity little church of theirs down to the ground. The humans are pathetic; they're our meals for a reason. Natural selection, survival of the fittest. We're fitter than humans, so we're higher on the food chain. The sooner they realize this, the better off everyone will be.
Just as she stuffs the phone back into her purse, I make my move. Leaping from the shadows, I wrap my left arm around her waist as my right hand covers her mouth. Her scream is muffled, and I can feel her mouth trying unsuccessfully to bite my palm. Poor girl's got this whole thing backwards. I drag her off into a nearby shrubbery, once again protected by the shadows. I can still her clear as day, the fear in her eyes matching only the stench filling my nostrils.
I always wondered what fear smelled like. It's not a pleasant aroma, necessarily; pungent, like really bad body odor. But the smell is nonetheless intoxicating, and it just makes me want to drive my fangs into her neck even more.
So I do. Simple as that.
The life of a vampire is easy, when you get down to it. For all the rules and beauracracies, the Sherrifs and their precious little cabals, being a vampire basically boils down to kill-or-be-killed. Kill whoever you can to survive, and make sure no one, least of all a pimply-faced God boy with a cross and a stake, can get to you.
This girl was no threat. She was just dinner. I can feel her blood coursing through my veins minutes after each swallow. It reverberates within me, even after she falls limp. I stand, licking the excess off my chin and staring into the night sky. The moon isn't full, but I can almost feel its light shining down on me.