I am a vampire. I thought I’d be direct, and tell you now that I am an evil, horrible, bloodsucking fiend that you don’t want to run into in night, down a dark alley. I kill to eat. I murder for fun.

Being a vampire, I obviously thirst for blood; but being evil, I hunger for the pain—I relish as I stare into horrified human eyes, as I prepare to take their life (not that I need to; I only need a little blood to keep me going…)

Are you scared of me yet? If not, then there’s something wrong with you. Or maybe you’ve met me, and I’ve let you go, and you think everything about me is perfect and impeccable, but I have to tell you that I’m a vampire! Of course I’m going to be perfect in every way! I have to be…

The truth is, it’s impossible to hate me if you see me. That’s how I’m made; I can’t help it. But I can help the fact that I use it for fun.

I’d stalk you in the middle of the night. I’d charm you into a dark alley. Maybe I’d try to hypnotise you, but only if I needed to. I’d make it so that it’s impossible for anyone to see us. You’d think I’m about to kiss you, until you feel my teeth plunge into your neck, as I draw warm, crimson blood from your neck, lessening the core of the reason you live. You’d feel weary, but blissful. Heavenly. You’d feel like you’re floating.

You wouldn’t know I was doing anything to you. You’d wake up—if you were lucky—not remembering a thing, with nothing to remind you of me but two small puncture holes in your neck.

But I’d rarely let you live…

You may think that I would never be able to stop my sins, or to cease my craving for pain, but read my story; continue, because this account will explain how I changed.

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