The Camarilla

Chapter 11

I lay on the cold stone floor, trying to sleep. It's been three days since the Witch Takers captured me. At least, I think it's three days. With no windows or way to tell the time, I could have been there for much longer than three days. The only way I could tell time was when the guards would give me breakfast and dinner. Nothing fancy, just a sandwich and some water. However, I noticed something wrong with these meals as a vampire: there was no blood. I hadn't drank blood for three days, which posed some... problems.

You see, there's an invaluable lesson in vampirism that every vampire learns one day or another. All vampires are immortal if they drink blood, even returning to a youthful state if well fed. If a vampire is cut off from blood, they gradually age and become feral. This is a dangerous state for a vampire to be in, for themselves and the people around them. Ever seen a feral and rabid racoon? Yeah, it's basically that but way more dangerous. So naturally, I was doing my best to keep calm and not to give into those urges again, but it's becoming harder every hour.

When a vampire becomes feral, various things may happen. Losing the ability to speak is one of them, as I found out. I also found the tips of my fingers became sharp like claws and I started to droll more. I probably look like a horror movie monster.

So, as I lay there trying to keep myself from clawing at the door and walls, there was a knock. As much as I wanted to get up and attack whoever was about to come in, I curl up tighter, trying to ignore it. After all, the guards weren't the nicest and Sterling wasn't worth my time. In fact, no one here is worth my time of day, respect, or kindness. So, I just lay there, ignoring the door, sinking back into the darkness of my decaying mind.

I hear another round of banging and shouting. Again, I ignore it. Suddenly, the door opens and two guards grab me by the arms. I attempted to break free with a bit of thrashing but they kept me weak, so it was only a minor protest. They drag me out of the cell and down the hall, with two more guards joining us. I try to relax, save my strength for whatever is going to happen. Looking around, I could see other people around, laughing and mumbling. I tried to ignore it, but the animalistic urge to destroy them was there. We came across this large door and one of the guards opened it. With minimal effort, the guards threw me into the room, closing the door behind me.

Getting up, I see the room was large, dome shape, and well lit, with a viewing panel 20 feet up. From behind the glass, I see many figures that are draped in shadow and are watching me. I snarled at them, my fangs showing while I do. It's a common fear tactic of vampires but it's not effective on other vampires.

But then, something caught my attention. My nose twitched towards the faint scent in the air. Suddenly the world blurred into a red haze as my sight slowly turned towards the other figure in the room. Featureless, a blank slate, a faceless person in a crowd, isolated in this very room. A nobody. A nobody no one would miss now, would they? My snarl contorts into a grin as I could sense the fear radiating off of the human, delighting me like fine wine. I stalk over to the human, whose fear began to rise as they backed up to the wall. They were trying to say something, I think, I couldn't tell. What I could only hear was their wonderful screams as I attacked.

Leaping forward, I grab the human's arm and pin it to their back, while quickly grabbing the other and pinning it to the wall. The human bucks wildly, yelling, screaming but I couldn't hear it, it was all muffled Greek to me. All I could hear was the beating heart, thump thump, thump thump, pumping all of the blood throughout the body. Ever wonder why vampires often bite at the neck? Because the heart works extra hard to pump the head, which just so happens to be the squishiest part of the body.

The screams of terror as I bit down were delightful. They amplified the experience of not only drinking blood for the first time in a while, but finally catching and killing what I hunted. I hadn't felt so satisfied with myself before, never had I just hunted for the sake of hunting. It made me feel complete. Perhaps the Witch Takers are on to something with this. Perhaps the animalistic instincts of a vampire aren't something to avoid, but to indulge in from time to time, like you would with some fine chocolate. Maybe we've been living wrong.