“Hi, I’m Charles and I am a blood drinker.”“Hi, Charles,” they all mumble with unenthusiastic declarations.
“And it’s been thirty days since my last drink.”
I sigh and sit back down as all the other drones proclaim their progress. It’s hard to believe some of these people haven’t drunk in years. They just become hermits and work from home. I’m finding it hard just lasting a month. This gnawing numbing indifference is so unsatisfying. I long for her high just one more time…
“Charles,” a moderate tone awakens me from my thought.
“You haven’t shared why you’re here yet and I think it’s necessary you do,” the group leader says in a sleeping tone.
“Why? It’s not going to make me “feel” better, nothing’s going to change that we can’t feel,” I said with blood on my mind.
“That’s the blood talking. There’s a reason why you’re trying to be a drone. When you were high from all that blood and feeling, something happened. And you need to remind yourself of what happened. This will help the remembrance and will keep you strong.”
“Fine.” I said in surrender preparing myself to “share”.
“Thirty days ago, I killed my girlfriend,” they all nod in understanding relatable faces.
“Like the normal prey, I dated her just for the high. I would take her to nice dinners and finally when she spent the night I did the usual. I put her in a trance, drew her blood and took a few packages for later, and shot up the first dose. Her feeling was sensational. Nothing I’ve ever felt before; I was hooked. I would shoot up once a week and a whole bag would last me a month. We dated for a year and I would take inventory every other month. She was so pure her high, would last so long. I thought it was a one nightstand and that a bag would last me only a day, but it was different with her. However, I did a rookie mistake and fell in love with her during the high,” everyone moaned at the thought of love and how it felt.
“Not going to lie, I was addicted to her. Best feelings I ever had. She made me feel human. One day, we were showering and she cut herself while shaving…it was too much to handle and I licked it off. She of course freaked out and I begged her to stay and when she was packing up she found my stash… I told her everything and she left anyway,” the drained faces shook their heads, already knowing the next part before I said it.
“I obviously told the doctors and they cut me off because I’ve had more instances in the past. They did the usual routine, enchanted her that night and two days later she felt ill and they told her she had cancer and needed surgery. ‘She died on the table’ and they had a feast. They were so hopped up they called me crying in sympathy for what happened. So no, this isn’t my choice. I loved her then because I was high off of her blood. Doesn’t mean I was more human or anything. I just want blood to feel again. This is all bullshit.”
“You loved her. It was real. Remember that.”
“Don’t tell me it was real. I was the reason she died; I basically killed her. I could care less they fed off of her. Want to know why? Because we’re vampires. We have the doc government that drink on the daily and clean up our mess, we have predators like me, and then you have pathetic drones like you.”
“Ouch that hurt,” he said indifferently.
“You know it didn’t. And if you drank, maybe it would. You’re just such a lightweight you mutilated your family.”
“That maybe true, but you’re no different than me. You’re a drone now too. Remember that.”
He shut me up and I sat down. They continue with their sharing around the circle. I pretend to ooh and ahh at their war stories but none of it matters when we’re sober. Living in this world is like a junkie being constantly introduced to heroine. I crave it everyday and because of one mistake they cut me off for six months. I was in love with her and I know I would miss her if I shot up, but I can’t think like that.
“Charles, you never mentioned how you were confirmed,” one of the members asks in an apathetic tone.
“During the revolutionary war.”
“From a brit?” they asked in pretend curiousness.
“Yeah,” they all nod in respect.
The originals that took over England didn’t bite me, but it’s still a strong tolerance. A large high, consuming all the feeling and can control it as well as a human, even better than some. One of the reasons I was cut off, because her blood was so good I couldn’t even control it. I need some time away from all the emotions. I had some really pure blood in the past and slipped up, but nothing like hers. I remember when she found out she thought of the stereotypical Dracula, one of our biggest criminals/ blood junkies in vampire history. He took some time off and now has his own hospital with a family. Lucky son of a bitch. Anyway, she thought I was “feeding” off of her like some sparkling freak and when I told her we eat food and drink water like everyone else, she thought I was just a maniac. That I was some deranged step away from being a full Hannibal Lector. Explaining to a mortal that the only reason vamps drink blood to get high off of their blood/ feelings is a little too different from all the movies. I don’t blame her for leaving; I just wish she stayed so I could continue to feel the way I felt with her.
“Charles, you know if you slip up the doctors will find you…just try my reason of thinking,” the leader, John, exclaims like he could feel.
“I know. I’m okay.”
“Good session guys. See you all next week. Remember small crowds or no crowds.”