Gone From Daylight: Mind of a Killer

by Comicality

Such thoughts…

Such ideas that you have to deal with as soon as you awake from your daily sleep cycle. It was only 7:30 PM…and you know from the slight rumbling in your stomach that another human life will be extinguished before the sun rises over the Chicago skyline again. A life that you are going to take against their will, so that you can go on.


You have to do it tonight. The thirst is getting worse. It has to be now…before your instincts begin to take over instead.

It is sometimes frightening to think how utterly ‘routine’ the whole act has become over the years. How you can simply snuff out the light of some unsuspecting victim with only a brief moment of guilt…before cleaning yourself up and returning to the shadows as though nothing had happened at all. No regrets, right? How deep can regret be, when it becomes a matter of his life or yours? Tomorrow night, you’ll be smiling again. Ready to further embrace your immortality. But this faceless donor will simply turn up missing. Covered up by the slag hunter patrol that finds him first. No paperwork, no missing persons…they’ll vanish as if the hand of God reached down and plucked him off the planet forever. Gone. And ultimately…forgotten.

You have to ask yourself sometimes…”Did I do this? Am I the crazed, heartless, murderer that I see in the movies and on the news? The ones that lurk in dark alleys and prey on the innocent? The weak?” It is a question you ask yourself every single time you feel that emptiness inside. That craving. And to this day, you still have no answers. Always left wondering if deathless existence is the only thing keeping the flames of Hell from erupting beneath your feet and swallowing you whole.

You think your remorseful thoughts will prevent you from doing it again..but they won’t. You know that, don’t you?

As you roll over in your bed, you find yourself face to face with the boy you love. The boy you’ve chosen to spend eternity with. A gorgeous creature with dyed red hair, light blue eyes, and a pair of perfect lips that seem to be playfully pursed out for a pouty kiss…even when he sleeps. You are drawn in and steal one last smooch from your boyfriend before your own lips become tainted with the blood of your ‘prey’ for the evening. Stroking his hair softly. Wondering if he’ll be wrestling with himself this way when it’s his turn to feed.

You rise out of your bed, and get dressed. Nothing too fancy. These are your ‘hunting’ clothes. They’ll be too bloodstained to wear home. Remember to take extra. And a hand towel…along with a bottle of water. Blood is thick. It’s sloppy. Very hard to clean, especially in the dark. Put it all together now. Don’t want to forget anything. Looking in the mirror, you are surprisingly emotionless. Not like you were the first few times. You were so terrified. So torn between your needs and your compassion. Your survival and your sanity. But not now. Now…it seems that you have found a comfortable middle ground. A safe haven where all of your confusing emotions join together, and blur into a gray area of simple logic. An area that allows you to smear the conceptual lines between right, wrong, Heaven, Hell, fear, and power. It’s simply something that has to be done.

You comb your hair, and take one last look at your beloved before leaving. The covers have been pulled back just enough…exposing one of his long, smooth, legs from underneath the blanket. You follow the line up to the seductive curve of his pert young buttocks in the nude. His bare chest looks so soft and warm that you are tempted to wait for him to wake from his cycle and let your hands roam back and forth across its frictionless surface until you are both engaged in another sexy embrace.

But you stop….

Waiting for him to wake would destroy the image of peaceful beauty that you can only see in a boy when he’s asleep. Not overly sexual, but quietly beautiful. You watch for a moment…still breathless after all those years you two have spent together in darkness. The word ‘angel’ comes to you mind, and you wish that you had the words to make him out to be something even more precious. More befitting the boy who had captured your heart. The best part of this amazing image is the fact that the blanket and sheets are covering his genitals completely. Just that part, specifically. It’s more incredible than seeing him totally covered up, more amazing than seeing him completely naked. It is a sensual blend of the two extremes, and it’s mouthwatering to look at. Your favorite boy.

As you leave your small sunproofed habitat and travel out to join the Summer crowds at Buckingham Fountain, your mind becomes numb again. Unfeeling. Perhaps it is the lack of remaining sustenance coursing through your veins. Perhaps the bloodlust is already invading your ability to ignore it. Ignoring the thirst is like holding your breath…neither challenge is a game you can win. Your body will fight to survive…with or without your consent.

You absorb the surrounding ‘feel’ of the people in the area. You watch everyone around you…looking for possibilities. But you’re not really aware of anything outside of the hunt. You have become shut off from that part of your reality. It’s almost as if you have no inner conversation at all. No thoughts. No memories. No agendas. You just take in the scenery as it passes you, and push it out of your mind to absorb more, never holding on to a single detail for a moment longer than you need to. Then you feel the familiar rumbling inside you again, and realize that it will all be over soon.

Your thoughts begin to have small gaps in its concept of time as your vampire instincts take a stronger hold. The mental lapses are small, only lasting 30 seconds to maybe a minute or two…but they are there. And a small part of you wonders what you were doing for that small amount of time. What were you thinking? And why did your conscious mind work so hard to blind you from its intent? Maybe, deep down, it was a primal instinct that mankind isn’t equipped to deal with or truly understand. Something so fierce, so unbelievably savage, that being aware of it and its control over you would instantly drive the average person insane. This is your theory…but who’s to say?

You look at the giant splashes of water shooting out of the fountain, lit by a myriad of changing colors, and strengthen your search for an appropriate donor. There are maybe two hundred people nearby. Laughing, playing, buying glow sticks and slices of pizza. Completely oblivious to the fact that a killer walks among them…in the guise of a mere boy of 15. Stalking the well stocked buffet with the shameless eyes of a predator on the prowl.

You take a minute to notice that you are not alone out there that night. Or any night for that matter. That other vampires walk in and out of the crowd the same as you do. Hoping to collect a prime donor to feed on as well. You were never quite sure how you could tell the vampires from the humans, but the subtle differences were unmistakable. You could sense it, smell it, see it in the way they walked. Immortality, once realized, brings a gentle arrogance to those who are blessed with it. Those in daylight will never know what we know. Not until they’ve become a part of the night.

It seems the hunting vampires have taken notice of you too. And they ‘watch’. Making sure that you’re not out to steal away one of their chosen victims for yourself. You continue to move forward, and file through the crowd of people. Surprisingly, you tend to avoid feeding off of children. But you HAVE thought about it….haven’t you? Their blood is sweeter than that of a full grown adult, or so you’ve heard. Much more nourishing, and more energetic, for the vampire that drinks from their essence. It is that desire that creates in you a moral dilemma that you can’t seem to push aside. As though this one display of mercy on the masses of people you’ve slaughtered over the years was to suddenly grant you a moment of righteousness. Don’t fool yourself. That small restraint won’t help to make you any less of a killer. Still…even the ‘wicked’ have to live by some kind of personal code. Chaos has its formula too.

You experience another small time lapse, a gap in your thinking, and wake to find yourself walking behind a college student heading towards the lake. Maybe the animal in you had targeted him without your knowledge and decided to pursue its dinner for the night before giving you the chance to protest. But then…you stop.

No. Not this one.

This is not the man you want.

You might have chosen to go after him because of some hidden thirst for the tangy flavor of blood. But a donor has to bemore than just an attack. It’s an art. You know that art all too well, don’t you? You’ve perfected it over time. There are factors that have to be understood. No. Not this one. Find another.

While your hunger is indiscriminate…your sanity is not.

You turn around and walk back towards the fountain, scanning the crowd for another target. Some of them have small infections, summer colds, a venereal disease or two…nothing overly dangerous. One larger man has too much cholesterol in his blood to be a viable target. The last thing you need is to quench your thirst for blood only to have a heart attack a few days later. You see a young woman who may fit the description of someone you would like to make a meal of, but then you detect traces of harsh narcotics in her system. You don’t have the money to support a habit given to you through the contents of her blood, nor do you want to suffer for the week or two that it will take your body to fight through the withdrawal.

Your thirst is pushing you to hurry. You have to keep it on a tight leash. Another donor will come along. A better one. You’re sure of it.

Then it happens….

Ahhhhh….there you are. A handsome young man, about 30 years old, crosses your path on his own. You notice another vampire looking at him as well, but when you make eye contact, he gives you the nod and you take him as your own. You follow the man for about 25 minutes…he is completely alone. He takes a few pictures, grabs a coke from one of the vendors in front of the fountain, and takes a seat on a nearby bench for a moment. A tourist. Even better.

You watch intensely from a distance, and wait for him to walk off to a secluded enough area for you to strike without being seen. It is almost like hunting a rabbit, waiting patiently for the right moment. Knowing that it will eventually come and that you’re hunger will be satisfied. You keep your distance for a while, but then experience another temporary loss of conscious awareness. When you realize that you’ve been ‘sleepwalking’ again, you have moved much closer. Your body issoooo hungry for him now, and it is ready to attack without any knowledge of consequence or restraint. Even with an entire park full of people watching you, you know that you would have done it. And it would have felt good. You will have to feed before you lose your senses. Better not wait so long next time. It clouds the mind…interrupts the secrecy of the process.

No other vampire approaches him once you’ve claimed him for your own. They know when someone is being stalked, and their natural instincts tell them that they are to stay away from another vampire’s food supply. And just when you were beginning to get impatient, you see the man get up and start to walk away from the protective community surrounding the fountain, and off into the darkness alone. This is it! This is your opportunity. GO for it!

He walks back towards Michigan Avenue, with you almost half a block behind him. It’s no matter though. Your focus is already locked onto his scent and his presence. You won’t lose him. It’s an unbreakable bond between you and he. No matter how far he gets away, he couldn’t shake you if he tried. You follow him underneath the elevated train tracks on Wabash Avenue, and continue your quiet pursuit as he stumbles along, unaware of your actions…getting closer to him with every step. The streets are pretty much empty on this street once the shopping stores close, most of the activity surrounding the colleges to the South, the fountain to the East, and the restaurants and bars up North. Downtown, however, is transforming into a virtual ‘ghost town’ with the exception of constant traffic. If you push him into an alley, you can bleed him to death and walk away without so much as a whimper. You’ve done it many times before. It should be easy. Piece of cake.

You’ve made it a point to not read the minds of your prey anymore. It only distracts and discourages you. Just as every man, woman, and child on the plant is capable of great evil…they are also capable of great kindness and beauty. Searching for someone who ‘deserves’ it is not possible. No one does. In fact, if you dig deep enough, there is simply something to love about everyone you come across. You will never be able to feed with that pristine knowledge haunting your motives and movements. Not at all.

THERE!!! He is going to cross an alley soon…this is your only chance.

You feel your eyes turn a deep shade of crimson red, a swirling sensation in your vision that invades your very thought process and lets everything you see become crisp and clear without equal. It’s as though your body knows exactly how to increase your vision in order to make a quick, clean, kill. Then, with a sudden ‘pinch’ that you have grown quite used to…you feel your fangs instinctively shoot down from your gums to cover your teeth. You literally salivate at the thought of tasting your brand new snack, and the lapses in your mind come to a complete stop. Instead, the savagery of this premeditated act bleeds its way into your conscious mind. Pushing you, urging you. Taking control of your actions, but allowing your mind to stay awake for whatever quick decisions you might need to make concerning your attack. You feel almost weightless, as though your body was becoming light enough to fly and move with the greatest of speed. You are ready to strike. And you know it…even if your donor doesn’t.

The attack is instantaneous, the entire act is a quick and forgettable blur to your senses and your memory. You simply jump into it without thought, like the reflex that tells you to pull your hand away from a burning flame. It simply happens all on its own. And it’s so FAST that you hardly have time to contemplate the severity of the situation. Just the pleasure of finally getting the life essence you need.

You use your shoulder to push him into the alley, and he drops his tourist video camera at his feet. His first reaction is one of anger for being bumped so rudely. He has no idea what is going on, and by the time the fear sets in, you are already in control. You knock his bags to the ground, and pull him further into the darkness of the small alley, your mouth wateringfor its next meal.

The man breaks free from your grip to fight you off, but you see hesitation in his eyes. Silly. A man has to think twiceabout hitting a 15 year old boy in the face. No matter WHAT the circumstances may be. His mistake. That hesitation just cost him his life. Your thirst takes over, and you strike out at his ribs, the strength of your blow cracking them if not breaking them off completely, and he falls to the gravel below, desperately gasping for air. You don’t have much time. This place is much too ‘public’ for any drawn out antics or heated scuffles. You have to do it, and do it now! Hurry, before you come to your senses. Let the thirst guide you Let the hunger make it ‘easy’.

You turn the man over onto his back, and straddle his chest with your thin teen legs, anxious to taste the flavor of his life bearing liquids as they fills you up inside and further fuel your immortal soul. You quickly use your hands and turn his head sharply to the side with little effort. And then…without further delay…

…The BITE!!!

It is comparable to biting into a warm peach or a tender breast of chicken. The squishing sound that it makes, followed by a warm, wet, splash that coats the side of your face with the penetration. You are always amazed at how hot blood is when it first leaves the body. It almost seems as though it should scald you from the contact alone. Your fangs do their job quickly, naturally sucking away at his neck, calmly and efficiently, as the man beneath you struggles pointlessly to get free. The pheromone release begins to take its effect, and his struggles lose some their potency. He is being lulled into a trace. The vampire effect is forcing him to be still…allowing you to drain him even faster. You wonder, for a moment, if this man was someone important. Someone who might have made a difference in the world, had he not met you on this fateful night. But it doesn’t matter in the end. He has ceased to be a ‘man’ at this point…he is merely food. A fruit to be consumed and savored as your belly becomes full of his sweet sweet nectar. You share no sympathy with him. No shame. You don’t even pay any further attention to his pitiful cries for you to stop. His squirming beneath you is more an annoyance than a wake up call to your sense of humanity. It won’t be long until he has no more strength with which to challenge you, and then you can finish the rest of your late night meal in peace.

The muscles of his neck tighten like a vice around the sharp, dagger-like, fangs stretching down from the meat of your bleeding gums. You can feel his neck straining to become rock hard in a futile attempt to avoid any more agonizing pain. But it’s too late for that now. You have already pierced through the skin and tissue…the muscle has been penetrated…the fangs are deeply embedded in his jugular vein…there is simply no more need to struggle. Escape is not possible. Death is inevitable. You feel his fear as the adrenaline rushes into his system in a flood of exhilarating liquid. It only makes the blood sweeter. You feel more excited, absorbing the rush into your body as quickly as his failing heart can manufacture it. It fills your senses with an invincible feeling of godlike power. Your head spins in the delight of feeling the remainder of his life essence transferring from his body into yours. His memories are a plethora of quick flashes and mixed images in your mind, and you remember them as though they were your own experiences. His life, his childhood, his good times, his badtimes, his achievements, his disappointments, his virtues…and his sins. They all become as much a part of the your uncontrollable rush as his blood is. You become sexually aroused involuntarily. You grow unmercifully ‘stiff’, your erection painfully crying out for an orgasmic release, filled with the tingle of sexual desire. You begin to slurp loudly at the thick coagulated blood as your body sucks it up like a sponge. My God…it fells sooo good. Soooo GOOD! You grind yourself into him as you feel his body begin to go limp, surrendering to his fate, and you moan softly to yourself as you revel in the pleasure of being reborn again. Refilled. Rejuvenated. There is nothing like taking on the pure life from another person, and incorporating it into yourself. It brings strength…and security…and such PASSION! This is why you do it. This is why you continue to push the guilt aside and throw yourself into the beauty of the murderous act. It completes you. It’s simply who you ‘are’.

Finally…the struggling stops, the man’s arms fall down to his sides, and you feel his blood going cold. Not so much in the literal sense, but you feel the life in it rapidly fading away. The taste becomes ‘cold’, bitter, salty. It tastes like….blood again. Not life.

Not what you originally came to steal from him.

You finish your nourishment and stand over him, looking down at what you’ve done. No remorse shows on your face. None. The climax is still in control. Your body is still shivering with delight. You lift the man’s legs, and pull him over to the dumpster, covering him with some cardboard boxes and paper to make him look like a sleeping homeless person. Slag hunters will take care of him in an hour or two. Maybe even sooner. It’s their problem now.

You clean yourself up as best you can before walking back out onto the street. Changing clothes. Cleaning your face. Fixing your hair. Back to life. Am I right?

As you walk home for the night, you feel the man’s life and memories swimming around inside you, adapting to its new shell of a body, and you become energized again. You feel like a ten year old at an amusement park, full of such a horrific level of unadulterated bliss. He’s a part of you now. Enjoy it.

You later go back home, and climb into bed with your boyfriend once again, closing your eyes to sleep before the dawn takes a hold of you. You kiss his sweet innocent lips, and then drift off to sleep…wondering once again, “Did I do this?”

Yes…..you did.



Thanks so much for reading! And I hope you enjoyed this new take on the “GFD” mythology! I’ve been wanting to expand on it for a long time now, and it feels good to be able to share more vampire secrets with you! Please let me know what you thought of this story at Comicality@webtv.net!!! Seezya soon with more!!! And feel free to write a vampire story of your very own on the “GFD Blood Bank“!!!

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