I'm Just the Worst Type of Guy to Argue With.

I walked into my house, my deceased parent's house. How would I pay the bills? I'll be on the streets within a week. I frowned and sat in the dark living, contemplating over why he just let me go. Maybe it was a plan all along, just wanting to ruin someone's life, and leave them alone it, for a laugh. I couldn't find a reason to get up and do anything, not write, draw, even cry. I didn't have the will power. I just stared at a wall, for hours upon hours, wondering why he did what he did.

How could someone be so evil?

Well, he's not a person, hun, he's a dead vampire.

At around twelve pm, I sulked up into my bedroom, trying to take comfort in the loneliness of my bed sheets. The cold, silk satin just reminded me of him. Cold, and smooth, with rough edges, like a statue. His face remained in my subconscious. The scared deceased faces of my loved ones haunted my mind.

Every single time I shut my eyes, I saw him, or them.

I let out a sharp scream that cut the dark night with a knife.

Rolling over on my back, I let the tears flow down my cheeks. I wish the faces would quit haunting me, torture me.

Wishing for a good night's sleep, I swallowed two sleeping pills, almost looking at the whole bottle with longing, and let my head hit the pillow.

Gerard’s POV

I laughed on, silently, as she squirmed in her sleep, still haunted by my very image, embedded in her mind’s eye. I had the potion in hand. I could easily fool the girl, what else was new? At midnight she would fall asleep soundly and I could slip in as I always had.

Just like old times…

I gracefully resumed my silent perch in the branched heart of the oak tree. I looked down at my watch. Though the watch band was in disrepair, my recent killing sprees had soaked it through with blood, the timepiece itself worked splendidly, still. Only one minute until midnight, the darkest point of night, and the lightest point of my life.

When she’s asleep and entirely vulnerable.

Not that she was normally an indestructible sort, but she was just great to mess with when she was sleeping. The silk of her hair, the skin of her face, she wouldn’t shudder at my touch, she wouldn’t know. I could have my way with her and she would let me. Actually, I was probably doing something very dirty to her in her current nightmare. She was now starting to get close to a candidate for Stockholm syndrome, with the way she acted when I touched her.

She liked it, and she didn’t like that she liked it, but she still couldn’t resist.

I smiled at how easily human emotions could be played with, especially Cierra’s, but in truth, I was an irresistible guy. I looked back down at the watch to be safe before I made my move. I heard a light snore from her congested nasal passages. It must have been all the must and dust in that God-awful church, or the running. I loved it when she ran; I could hear her wheezing a mile away. It was almost comical, the amount of times she had run from me.

Here I was: right in front of her sleeping body. Time to do the dirty deed and get out, I was already shaking with anticipation at this new form of torture!

I poured the concoction into her mouth, after making sure she wouldn’t choke on it. I tucked the small vial into my pocket and turned to leave. I looked back once, and I truly couldn’t resist. I wanted to lick her smooth skin up and down, and bite her until she turned black and blue and red all over. Then I wanted to tear her soft flesh apart with my bear hands, making her cry out for me in longing as I did so. I wanted to rape her and have her plead for more, on her knees, leaving them so far spread apart is was likely they wouldn’t see each other until she got enough of me. And not all of that is necessarily in that order.

I sufficed with the last part of my plan: biting her so that she would know I marked her. She would know that it was me, who ‘turned her.’ One last stand to make her my property. Maybe I’d carve my name into her as well… Or I’d make her beg for the brand name later.

I straddled her wan and limp body, and sunk my teeth into the pastel flesh of her neck. She arched her back, unwittingly, making it even easier for me to feed. I eventually resisted the saccharine taste of her life-force and left, after rubbing the pouring blood in some other places, to make her think that she wasn’t just bitten, but taken advantage of in other indecorous ways too. Ways taken of the bounty of the fortune in between her fragile legs, that is.

I highly enjoyed that, I even did a little ditty that would make it hurt too. I walked into the living room of her silent house and turned on the television very quietly. I needed to see the weather. Tomorrow was going to be another rainy day. Perfect. Cierra would go out, thinking she needed to feed or something, as a vampire, or she’d go looking for me, hoping for a fight.

And I’d show her what a real vampire does.

I walked out of the house, not bothering to shut or lock the front door. I wandered my way through street after street, prowling for a sweet meal. All I could find were prostitutes and the occasional drunkard. In the end I took a little girl home.

She didn’t even struggle, and that was the funny thing. I decided that I should take her, before I actually took her. Then, when they found her body, they would think it a pedophile’s crime. Barring that, it would just be a good time, like sacrificing virgins in the good old days… good times, good times. It then occurred to me that poor, little Cierra was a virgin. Would I have to fix that too, or would I leave her wanting me?

The time would come when it did. Why would it matter anyways? She would never find love in another man, should I let her go; she was too scarred by her affection to me, already. No, she would never be normal, even if I let her exist in society… like that was going to happen. I’d kill her before returning her to her cushy life.

That brought up another poignant point, I thought about it as I disposed of the girl’s body. How was I going to kill her?

It wasn’t like I had some grand scheme for her, this was all willy-nilly, one second I could make love to rape her, the next I could kill her. The most she deserved was a fun death; I deserved to revel in it, after all this time spent with the girl.

She would commit suicide, and I would drive her to it.

Easy enough, but when?