I've never really spoken openly about vampirism. It's always been intriguing and to be honest, rather disireable to me. I can't kill, it's something I find myself incapable of doing. Sent to the frontline, I would drop my gun and hide in a tree eating rhubarb to survive. I cannot kill. But what about the new situation. You must feed, but your unholy fix means death - in a him or me situation, take me, I cannot kill he. But when it's hunger that drives you and not moral and greed, things change. You cannot deny hunger, any species will knaw off their leg before they go to bed hungry. But there is a choice. Oh yes sir, there is. The vampire needs blood for sure, but wait on that. Sap! Plant blood. Yes, a vegetarian vampire. It sounds comical but it is true. The blood of a plant may satiate the vampire with the same kick of the real juice. God, he craves for blood. There is nothing like it. He bites his arm sometimes, oh luxury - but it hurts, less so than normal (the vampires blood is almost pure adrenalin - hence the great strength and 'flight') but still a modest pain. The lust to suck blood from the neck of someone tender and beautiful is so strong but always the vision of the limp body falling from his arms is enough to quell that lust. He is no murderer. If only the movies were true and the vampire could will his victims to live anew. He must go on, with this strange mutation of his cells dictating his nature. He must go on sneaking in to the woods at night to bite deep into the roots of the oaks just to see another dawn. See another dawn - another of the fable's misgivings. Sunlight is no killer! Yes my skin is blanched by my cell structure and more suseptable to the development of tumours, but I am hardly likely to burst into flames. Oh. Yes, it is 'I', not 'he'. I cannot say how long I've been this way. I had the marks at Easter I can recall, possibly even at Christmas but not much before that I don't believe. I say marks, there is only one. It is fairly small, I fancied it might vanish completely but it hasn't and shows no sign of doing so. I guess it will stay as some tell-tale sign. Fortunately the subject of vampirism is one that nobody considers sufficiently to appreciate not only it's plausability but it's historic recording (Count Vladimir in the Teutonic period, and others). The movies have made a good job of posting the condition as a nightmarish fantasy. The fact that I may be a vampire would be greeted with mirth and little more. I shall not complain at that. I do wonder who enlisted me into this species, I have no recollection.
THE END.