Diary of a Blood Drinker

by Robert Arellano

  The next day, I called her and set up an appointment. I told her who I worked for and I gave her all the information she needed to open and account for me, using my new name. I had her transfer my money from the sale of my house and savings to the new account. She told me it would take few days. She gave me her card. Four days later I had a new account with all of my money from my previous accounts and most of the money I gave her in cash. I never found out how she did it and I never asked.

  One evening, I was patrolling my area when I saw Mr. C talking to a man in the street. I thought about approaching him to assure him that I was doing my job, but I decided to stay back and watch the two men to see what was going on. After a few minutes, they shook hands and headed in different directions.

  I decided to follow the other man – let’s call him Mr. D. He looked like a very successful businessman, confident in his stride. As he walked, several people acknowledged him and spoke briefly to him. By his mannerisms, he looked to be someone that was familiar to them. I followed him through a casino and then he entered one of the parking structure elevators. I knew where the exit was, so I quickly made my way there and waited. After a few cars came through the kiosk and paid their parking fees, the gate opened and a limo was waved p. All I could see was a profile of the man in the back seat and it fit the profile of the man I had been following. I looked at the license plate and noticed it was a city official vehicle.

  Let me digress for a moment. I had become a powerful creature that could pretty much do whatever I wanted. I was not sure that what I was trying to accomplish was worth the trouble I was going through. I was not trying to solve the problems of the city by keeping tabs on these people; all I was trying to do was survive. Yes, I wanted to be in a position where all I had to do was feed whenever I needed to. I was not a creature that would randomly kill and hide away in the shadows waiting for my next victim. I was trying to live as much of a normal life as I could manage. This curse or gift that was given to me was not ideal. I was doing things that I would never have done in my previous life. For now, I was doing what I thought was best. I needed to interact with people, not just to take their blood, but because I could not be alone all the time. I had saved a couple of lives and yes, I had taken many more. My biggest concern was that my conscience was bothering me less and less as time went on. Although, that was a trait that many people that did not have my problems exhibited.

  I was walking back to my place one evening after my shift was over. In front of me were two young women walking along, talking and laughing. It was obvious that they had been drinking and were having a good time. As I walked behind them, I could smell the perfume they wore, the alcohol they were drinking and cigarettes they were smoking. I could also smell the strong odor of blood coming from one of them. For a moment I had the strong urge to feed, yet I knew that I did not need to for a while. The smell was that of menstrual blood and it was so overpowering that I really had to concentrate on not attacking these women.

  I discovered that not every person’s blood is the same. Depending on the age and health and what they have been consuming, it has a slightly different taste. Taste is not an issue with me, the memories and feelings that I experience while drinking that person’s blood are what is intoxicating. I have yet to figure out why that happens. Is a person’s soul and everything they are embedded in their blood? To me, that is the only explanation, and maybe someday medical science will discover this.

  Back to my search – I had discovered that the next person in line in the organization was linked to city government. I knew what this person looked like and all I had to do was attend some public meetings and look for him. Since I don’t do anything during the day, I could spend as much time as I need attending these meetings. I found out when the city council, the board of supervisors, and other government entities met, and made plans to attend.

  Chapter 8

  It’s been more than a year since that night in the Sonoran desert. I finally gave up the search for Mr. D. For several weeks I attended every public meeting that I could find out about but I was yet to see the man I was looking for.

  Working for the organization I had joined was still a good arrangement for me. I had earned a sizable amount of money and I was getting to know the city very well. Everyone in the organization acknowledged me, but kept me at a distance. That was perfect with me. I had my feeding patterns and practices down to a science. Most of the time, I was able to feed and not take the life of my victim. They seemed to not remember what had happened to them. I was concerned that I might be infecting my victims by feeding on them, the way I was infected. During all my travels, I did not hear of anything that would make me suspect that there was anyone out there like me.

  I am getting weary of this condition, yet I find it very exciting. I look in the mirror and do not see any changes in myself. If I am injured, I heal fast and easily, yet, my hair does not grow and I never have to shave. About the only thing I have to do is clean my body on a daily basis. I know this is too much information, but every day I discover something new about this curse I carry. I call it a curse because this is not normal. When I start thinking it is, something snaps me back to reality.

  I have gotten used to the brightness of everything; I have learned how to block out the loud noises that bombard me every minute; I can select which voice I want to hear when there are many people around. I am thankful that I am not an out of control monster that is terrorizing the city.

  One day I was walking down one of my regular routes and a man and woman walked by me and said, “Hi James.” I could not figure out where I knew them from, so I responded by saying hello and continued to walk on. In the next few days, the same thing happened with other people that I did not know. I thought that maybe I was getting to be too well known in this town even though I pretty much kept to myself. Knowing the people that I worked with and them knowing me was something that was unavoidable, but when other people that I had no relationship with started to recognize and acknowledge me, I got worried.

  I had taken about as much as I needed from this town. I had learned what I was capable of doing and what I needed to survive. I was not going to take over the organization as I had once planned on doing. There was way too much involved that would complicate matters and be a threat to my way of living. Maybe it was time to move on to a new place where I could start over again. I had a sizable bank account and I could access it at anytime from anywhere.

  So, that evening during the meeting, I told Mr. C that I was going to be away for a couple of weeks. In a short time I was on a plane heading to Los Angeles, California.

  I was sitting in the plane with my senses at their peak; I pretended to go along with a young man who had propositioned me at the Vegas airport men’s room until we were in a stall. Then I attacked him and fed. I have remembered the emotions from almost all my victims, but this man I will remember the clearest for a long time. The sadness I felt was so overpowering that I almost stopped. His sense of despair was so strong that if I had to go through that again, I may not be able to. But I knew that the urge would not allow me to go without feeding, so I would do it while I was in charge of the hunger, no matter what happened.

  We landed at the airport around midnight. I gathered my small bag and headed out the doors to catch a cab. I had no idea where I was going to settle in, so I told the cab driver to take me to a modest hotel in Hollywood. As I was riding in the cab, I could smell the driver and every odor that his many passengers had left inside the vehicle.

  I opened the car window and was hit by the smell of the big city – not too much different than the smells of the town I had just left. The driver was not very talkative, and was listening to Middle Eastern music coming from a small tape player. He told me of a couple of hotels on Sunset Boulevard and asked which one I would like. I chose one and we headed there. I asked the driver to wait while I went in to see if there was a vacancy. There were a couple of older women sitting behind the desk and as I approached
I asked if they had a room available. They said yes. I walked out, paid the driver, walked back in, and registered for three nights. With my new identification and bank account in order, I had no problems.

  First, I had to find an area where victims for feeding would be fairly easy to find. I also had to find a way to supplement my finances. I had to find a place to live that was a little more permanent that a hotel room. Things were a lot easier than when I first landed in Vegas. Now, there were not as many unknowns. Acquiring what I needed would be a lot easier.

  Because of the vastness of the city I needed transportation. I picked up a newspaper, found an ad for an older car at a fair price and close to where I was. I went to the bank, withdrew some money, answered the ad and bought the car. All the information I gave the seller was false. I might have to risk getting a driver’s license but, for now, I only needed to move short distances. If required, I could abandon the car.

  In the early evening I drove around, trying to get the feel of the city. As I drove down Sunset, I saw the ladies of the evening, gathered to sell their wares. I found out where many dealers hung out to meet their customers. More important, I located the clubs and bars where many people leave at 2 a.m. after partying all evening and, in most cases, are staggering drunk.

  It had been close to twenty-four hours since I last fed and I was looking for a victim. I parked the car a few blocks away from a bar and hid in the shadows, waiting for the bar to close. Soon, a woman stumbled to her car and tried to open the car door. I swept in, pulled her in between two other cars and sank my fangs into her throat. The smell of heavy perfume was overwhelming, and the smell of alcohol was so strong I found it hard to believe she was awake. The feeling of happiness followed by fear and panic flooded my senses. As her heart slowed, I released her just in time to hear a man come out of the bar and call a woman’s name. I moved away like a mist in the dark and headed to my car. Most likely, her friend would attribute her present condition as that of being too drunk.

  The next day I found a little bungalow on Fountain Avenue. It was sparsely furnished and convenient to my hunting grounds, so I rented it. Fortunately, it had been cleaned thoroughly so the smells left behind by the previous tenants were bearable.

  I discovered that, when I was out foraging all night, I had to feed almost every night. This worried me. I would have to expand my feeding area so as not to create any suspicion. The next night I drove East on Sunset into the local Hispanic community. After finding a bar and lying in wait, I saw a man stumble out of the place. He staggered down an alley and was easy to attack.

  This became a pattern no matter what neighborhood I went into. I was almost invisible. So long as no one saw me while I was feeding, what could go wrong? One night while driving to one of my feeding areas, flashing red lights came on behind me. Programmed by so many years of obeying the law, I pulled over and stopped. The police car went around me and head down the street. I sat there for what seemed like hours, assessing what had just happened. What I would do if I had been pulled over? I would eventually have to prepare for that.

  I continued for a few more miles and arrived at my target. I parked the car a couple of blocks away and walked to the club I had chosen. As I approached, I noticed some movement in a car parked across the street from the bar. As I looked closer, I saw a couple of men sitting, looking towards the bar. Then I heard a conversation on a police radio as they talked to another unit in the area. I scanned the street and saw the other car in the parking lot of the bar. My first thought was that they were looking for me. But why? I had not visited this place yet. Then I heard them talk about two girls that were emerging from the bar with two men. Ah…the vice squad was staking out the club I was going to visit. I backed away and decided to head to another place.

  As I was walking there, I heard some moaning and whispering coming from the shadows by a clump of bushes in a small park. When I moved closer I saw a woman who was just finishing servicing a man. They were parting ways. When she moved far enough away, I attacked the man and fed off him. I was quickly realizing that this town was going to be my buffet for as long as I needed it. But I also realized that the police presence was also much higher than where I had come from. I would have to be a lot more cautious.

  This lifestyle was wearisome. All I was doing was staying in my home every day and roaming the streets every night, looking for a victim to feed on. I wanted to do something with my life but I had no idea what to do. It wasn’t like I had a short time to live. As far as I knew, I could exist forever and could do anything I wanted. I could learn a trade, or volunteer somewhere that would have easy access to whatever I needed or wanted. I began researching what would work for me. If I worked at a hospital I would have access to most everything I needed during the day. If I volunteered at a homeless shelter, it would most likely be during the daytime. My nights would be free to take care of my needs. There were any number of things that I could do and there was no reason why I could not live a normal life so long as I kept my secret and nobody found out what I was.

  I decided the best thing to do was to go to school and update skills used in my previous career. I used to be a certified public accountant and worked for a large firm.

  Without divulging my past, I started taking classes to catch up with the latest tax codes, new laws and procedures, and everything else that I would need to continue my previous career. This school had a great job placement program that I would take advantage of. This was working out great; school in the daytime, and satisfying my need to feed at night.

  Chapter 9

  Things went smoothly for the next year. I was able to get a better car. I registered it and got a driver’s license. When it came time to do the eye test, they wanted to know if I needed the sunglasses all the time. I was able to talk my way through it and all was settled.

  The school placed me with a tax agency that had offices throughout the city and other places throughout the country. I was confident in my ability to control myself and quickly found myself interacting with my fellow employees. Even though I knew I could kill someone very easily, I controlled myself when it came to either customers or fellow employees that were not very pleasant.

  I was doing taxes for a couple who were the rudest people that I knew. They treated me like dirt and complained to my bosses. Since I had their address, I paid a visit to their home one night. While they were sleeping, I found my way into their house. I moved past the sleeping dog on the ground floor, up the stairs and into their bedroom. I bent over her, covered her mouth and sank my teeth into her neck. I felt defeat, fear, and a sense of a very lonely person. She was being manipulated by her partner. I thought about taking care of that now, but decided I was not there to rescue anyone but myself, so I slid down the stairs, past the sleeping dog and out the door.

  I continued doing taxes and financial books for small companies. Every month a man who identified himself as a district manager would talk to the employees and then disappear until the next month. I found out that he didn’t do much of anything but travel from office to office, checking on office productivity. I knew that would be the perfect job for me. I would have a reason to move from town to town and not create a pattern of victims anywhere. I had to travel farther away from my home anyway, and every town had a bar or club that would provide me with the right conditions to do my night feeding.

  I did some research and found out where the district manager lived. Every second or third night, I would go into his house and feed off him. In the morning he was in no condition to go to work. Just about the time he was feeling better, I would drain enough blood that he would not be able to return to work. After a couple of weeks, the big bosses started to get concerned about his ability to continue his position with the company, so I swept in with a glowing resume and landed the job.

  My biggest concern was that I would create a pattern and someone would notice and start asking questions. If there was any suspicion of something odd going on, I could not take a chance that
the authorities would come knocking at my door. So far, a blood drinking creature did not exist and I wanted to keep it that way. Meanwhile, my bank account was nice and fat, I was moving around freely and there were no problems that I could see – far cry from the way things were that fateful night in the desert.

  For a couple of years, things went fairly well. Friends asked me out for drinks or a meal and I had to refuse because I could not consume anything but blood. I had yet to find an eatery that served what I need to survive. Outside my work, my social life was pretty much non-existent. I knew that I would not be able to do this work forever. What then? Retire? I could not retire from hunting and feeding.

  My wealth was getting to the point that I could live comfortably with the proceeds that my investments would bring. But I wanted more. I had no idea what my life would be like if I had all the money in the world. I could not drink it away, I could not eat it away, I had no idea what drugs would do to me and I was not willing to risk the chance of losing control. I could not spend it on sex. That was not part of my life anymore. The only time sex was part of me was when I was feeding on a man or woman that was sexually aroused and I would sense their excitement.

  Like in the movies, would I keep people around just to make sure I would be supplied with blood whenever I needed it? I don’t think so, that is too Medieval. Besides there is too much of a risk letting anyone know what I am. I have no one or nothing to learn from. Everything I do is a combination of what I knew in my previous life and what I am learning every day.

  I have mostly managed to stay out of trouble or danger. Once, during my travels I did not feed because the small community I was in did not have a place that I felt I could feed safely. One morning I found myself in my hotel room with no recollection of what I had done during the previous night. I was not hungry and I knew I had fed but I had no idea when and how. Every time I came into this community, I would scan the newspapers. I found a small announcement that Mr. White had died during the night of natural causes. He was an elderly man that had been bedridden for some time now and was not expected to live long. To this day, I will always wonder if I was the cause of his death.