The smell of spring awakens my senses as I step out onto the deck. I run my fingers through my dark hair and inhale the misty warm evening air.  Trees are in bloom and the grass is turning an intense shade of green. Flowers are starting to present themselves in brilliant colors.  Something a vampire can definitely appreciate; color and life. For the last thousand years I have been on a hunt to experience life again. After a couple hundred years you forget what it even feels like.  With each kill I make there is a brief second in this constant eternal death I get a little glimpse at what it was like to be alive again. Watching my victim yearn for life the way I do every day of my existence gives me a satisfaction I could only dream of. Feeding on humans is a necessity for my kind.   It’s how we survive if that is what we are doing.   I try to justify being the ghost in the shadows or the boogie man in the closet by taking lives of monsters worse than me. Murderers, drug dealers, sex offenders, not people the world would mind missing.  I give silent justice to people who don’t get it for themselves.

My thoughts are interrupted as my latest victim walks onto the deck. Ray Torres, key player in the Spanish drug trade, father to sixteen bastard children and a kill count well over a hundred. I have been hunting him for a better part of a year now. Tonight was the night his victims would finally get the justice they deserved. I had this moment planned out to the very detail of what I would wear as I made this kill.  I could have extinguished him quickly the first night I met him but, I like to play with my food.

I study him with curious eyes as he stared into the distant Miami skyline. His eyes are colder than mine could ever be and I’ve been dead for hundreds of years. I watch enviously as he takes a deep breath. Breathing, such a thing to take for granted. What I would give to breath for a purpose again not just out of habitual routine. His black hair was slicked back showing faint strands of grey.  He crossed his hard arms across his torso as if he was in deep thought.   ‘Enjoy the view Ray, it will be the last time you see this.’ I think to myself. His dark Spanish skin was olive in the moonlight as he lit up a cigar. I have been his right hand man for the last year, but not without great cost.  He killed many innocent people on my watch and I had to allow it for this one night when I knew I could take down them all.  Tonight would be a sweet beautiful revenge.

“I trust things are in order for tonight, Darius?” He asks exhaling a cloud of smoke still watching the night skyline. The main shipment of the year was coming in today; it would be the largest yet. He has smuggled cocaine over the border in many creative ways, which is why he holds the title of the biggest drug runner of the decade. Last year he had over twenty-one tons of cocaine smuggled over in baby formula cans. They had an estimated street value of three hundred and fifty million dollars. This year he has over thirty tons on its way stuffed inside thousands of tombstones.

“I am waiting on the call from Augsto, but everything is in order. We have men waiting on the shore line ready to unload now.” I lied. I received the call almost two hours ago. If Torres made any mistake it was leaving all his trust in me. One of the biggest flaws in humans is giving other people enough control to destroy you. He nodded and headed back through the sliding glass door of his million-dollar estate.
My cell phone vibrated aggressively in my leather jacket as I dug it out. Just the call I was waiting for.
“It’s done.” The voice said quicker than I could answer and the call ended. That’s how things worked in this business. You said what you needed to say and you moved on. It was a smooth business I’ll say that much. I smiled as I dialed a number into my cell phone. As I hit send I knew that hundreds of explosives I had rigged in the receiving semi-trucks would be going off simultaneously.  One of the perks of being alive for so long is you get a chance to learn a lot, like how to rig explosives.  The majority of Torres’ men would be dead in that quick second and any that were lucky enough to still be alive would be sure to find their place elsewhere. I walked into the house with Torres' and headed for his study.

The smell of his lingering cigar left a bitter taste in my mouth. I needed to get the job done quickly before he  got wind of anything suspicious.  I turned and walked toward the modernly constructed house. Glass windows framed the mansion from floor to ceiling. I made my way to his study for the last time and shuttered at the familiar scent I was so accustomed to, musty men's cologne and leather swirled in the air as I entered.  The man had fancy taste, the room had dark wood floors and a large tank filled with exotic fish set into the back wall.

“Come in Darius, have a drink with me.” He beckoned me.

“Isn’t it a little early to celebrate?” I questioned heading to the scotch bar.  Tonight he would be sharing a different kind of drink with me.

“If things are in order as you say Darius, there is no reason to not celebrate. The day we work for all year  is finally at its close.” I handed him the scotch I prepared.  My mouth salivated with venom as I imagined the events of the next couple of minutes.

“You have surprised me this last year. I didn’t imagine drinking scotch and smoking a cigar with you a year ago. I am proud of you Darius, as if you were my own son.” He said sipping scotch from the crystal glass. His words stung as I recalled all the innocent lives that were lost because of him. Families killed in front of their fathers who owed large sums of money or betrayed him. I have seen a lot in my thousand years on this earth but nothing compares to seeing a mother watch her children being tortured in front of her. The screams will haunt me for eternity.

His eyes widened with confusion as the scotch ran down his throat.  Little did Mr. Torres know I had tainted his scotch with a poison from South America known as Curare, in seconds he would be fully awake and aware but completely paralyzed.  I got down to eye level with him across his dark oak desk, “You’re right, there is plenty reason to celebrate.”  I whispered giving him full view of my fangs.  I’m a little dramatic I’ll admit, but I like to let them believe for a second that all the fairy tales and myths are true.  Granted some of them are, but not any as fierce as me.  His body went limp in his chair and his glass shattered as it dropped on wood floor.

All though he couldn’t speak his eyes spoke loud enough words, they shouted for mercy. My face distorted with relentless, sadistic intentions. That same longing, jubilant feeling of overwhelming power thickened my blood with rage and carnage. It was time.

“You and I are one in the same.” His pleading eyes grew wider with an even greater fear.

“Actually, I take that back, I am nothing like you. I would never take the life of a child. I have no idea why you have been such a waste of life or why you have done the things you have done but you will have plenty of time to explain yourself in death.” I headed to the wall of bookcases and rested my elbow on one of the shelves.  

“For the last decade you have easily slipped under the radar of authority and, to that, I applaud you.  No, really.” I said clapping my hands together. “You have to be a certain kind of piece of shit to accomplish all the things you have done, but did you honestly think things weren’t going to come around full circle?” I said crossing the room to stand in front of him.  I adjusted my height to get just at eye level with him.  Although it didn’t seem like he was awake or even listening I could tell he was by the pounding sound of his heart.  

“Tell the the devil I said hello.” I winked and lunged toward him sinking my teeth into his neck.  The insatiable, bittersweet taste of blood always tasted better when I really worked for it—and oh, was it ever worth the labor. I always liked it when there was still a faint heartbeat. I loved the feeling of hot fluid streaming small doses into my mouth and swelling my cheeks, running down my throat and sweltering in the pit of my stomach.

******************

Some ancient prophecies state that if a vampire sank his teeth into a true descendant of Christ that they could live again. It was a prophecy I have obsessed over. I left my life in Arizona for the last fifty years drunk with the idea of living again. To be able to have a mortal life, to age, to die.  Some don’t exactly buy into the myth, but a lot of my kind do. I spend most of my time chasing down leads and ideas collecting and obsessing over any information I can possibly find.  I have made a lot of enemies, I like to think it is because I am closer to achieving life than any of my other competitors.  Most vampires think it is just a bullshit theory but I have evidence that proves otherwise and I know a handful of other vampires that would kill to get their hands on some of the proof that I have.   

I was halfway down the driveway on my motorcycle when the explosions started to go off.  I didn’t turn back to confirm that things were going well, the heat rising up my back confirmed it. I turned the throttle of my bike and sped away inhaling deeply and filling my lungs with cool air.  This is who I am, this is who I am suppose to be.  I have lived under this alias of a different life for a year. Darius, twenty-six year old partner to a well-known drug lord.  I shuttered at the memory of that life and appreciated that I didn’t have to look back at it ever again.  I could finally go back to my old life, a life where I could do what I wanted to do.  A year may seem like a long time to waste on taking down a drug dealer from the inside but a year is nothing for someone who seemingly has an eternity to live and nothing to really live for.  I have a few homes around the country and even some out of the country but I am not eager to get back to any of them.  I need to follow up on a lead I got about the decedent. A small town in Kentucky has come up while searching for a certain instrument needed to continue my research, and I need to get my hands on it as quickly as possible.  There is always a time limit on these leads. I am hardly a few steps ahead of some of my faithful friends and I can’t afford to waste any time.  

I drove a few hours before pulling off the main highway into a dry dirt parking lot. It was a little after one in the morning and I had some time to kill (don’t worry not literally.)  A small bar sat on the lot with a tattered wooden sign that read ‘The Cove’.  I was in a small town in Louisiana, I had been here briefly before a couple years ago tracking down a lead I got on the descendant.  It ended pretty badly but I’m not here to reminisce.  I found a parking spot close to the door and parked my Harley.  I could hear roaring laughter coming from inside the bar.  I imagined what they could possibly be laughing about considering what a small town this is and it brought me some comfort. Everyone had to appreciate some southern familiarity.  Even for those who haven’t been around the south still feel something comforting and familiar about it.  I pulled my pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of my jacket and gave the bottom of the box a couple taps with the palm of my hand.  Nicotine, I swear the next best thing to sex and sinking my teeth into a nice warm pulsing artery.  I stuck the cigarette in my mouth and vigorously patted my jacket in search for my lighter.  I pulled it up to my cigarette and gave it a couple snaps with my thumb and drew in a long drag and held it until the trapped air tempted to burn a hole through my chest.  I lifted my head in the air and blew smoke circles into the night sky.  I sat on the side of my bike leaning my weight onto the seat.  I finished my cigarette off in the silence while listening to the sound of the crickets chirping, my favorite night time friends.  I flicked my filter across the parking lot and headed for the door of the bar.  

The muffled country music became distinctive as I swung open the loose wooden door.  The inside wasn’t swarming with humans but I knew that by the few cars in the parking lot. There were a few stragglers sitting at the bar and what I would be willing to bet regulars sitting at the tables that were scattered across the creaky wooden floor.  I chose a stool in front of the bartender and sat down heavily.  The bartender looked at me, curious at who this unfamiliar face was.  “What can I get for you?” he asked his arms spread on the bar.  “I’ll have whisky straight please.” I nodded looking around the bar.  The bartender looked young, too young to be serving alcohol but everyone looks young after the first five hundred years.  He slid the glass to me and I took a quick swig swallowing the contents immediately and slid the glass back to him gesturing for more. The funny thing about vampires and alcohol was that our blood didn’t flow meaning it couldn’t filter the liquor out.  The only thing that brings us out of a drunken stupor is drinking from a human.  Not to mention the amount of liquor it took to get us drunk anyway.  

I downed the next two glasses and my wandering gaze met a couple at the end of the bar.  The women sat with her legs crossed and in between her companions’ legs..  She had long dark hair that fell lazily around her face.  Her olive tanned skin and bright green eyes glinted in the pale yellow light of the bar.  From the looks of her she had to be in her middle twenties.  She was wearing a loose grey sleeveless cotton shirt and a jean skirt that met the middle of her thighs.  The bottom of the skirt was frayed and dared tease her perfect skin.  She was wearing cow boy boots to top off the sexiness of her look, and oh was she sexy. I couldn’t get much detail of the guy she was with because he was facing the opposite direction of me but I didn’t need to see his face to know what a complete idiot he was.  Totally unaware of how lucky he was to have someone like that sit that close to him and he actually had the nerve to watch the waitress behind her shoulder.  “Isn’t it a shame?” The bartender said leaning into me. “Isn’t what a shame?” I questioned turning my direction towards him.  “Him, and her.” He said nodding in the direction of the couple.  “She could have anyone in this shit hole town and she is with him.  He just sits there pretending to listen to her and she is so oblivious to the fact that he is planning on screwing Maggie tonight.” he said gesturing to the waitress behind them.  I turned back towards the couple and noticed the waitress behind them provocatively bending over one of the tables as she cleared the mugs.  Just as she looked up she winked at him and strutted back into the kitchen.  

I made casual conversation with the guy a few bar stools away from me. A truck driver from Iowa, and my next meal. I don't always eat to kill, I just needed to sustain my energy for the rest of the ride home. He wouldn't remember any of it anyway. He'd just be a little more tired for the next few days. I bought him his next beer and noticed the couple at the end prepare to leave. The guy stood as he swigged down the remnants of beer in his glass cup. I could smell how drunk he was just looking at him. I shifted my attention back to the truck driver. "Last call!" the bartender shouted as he wiped down the bar."Well, I guess it's time to call it a night, thanks for the beer man." the burly truck driver said as he stood  putting on his jacket. I waved my hand toward him as I gulped the rest of my whiskey. "Have a good one." I said as he walked out the door. "You gonna be alright to drive man? You've had a lot of whiskey. " The bartender asked leaning into me. I chuckled and headed for the door.

I didn't want the truck driver to get too far. I really don't like to chase my food. I started up my bike and took the back roads  towards the highway. As I turned onto the next gravel road I noticed a familiar car pulled off to the side. It was one of the cars from the bar. I started to speed up to maneuver around it until I noticed the door was open, I swerved to avoid hitting the door and I lost control as my bike slid across the jagged gravel. I sat up slowly with a grunt trying to catch up to what had just happened. I saw my bike a few yards away from me and cringed just imagining the damage that I would discover once I made my way over to it. I felt my leg tingle and I knew it was healing from an obvious break. I stood and dusted myself off and started to walk over to the car. Dinner plans suddenly changed, whoever was in that car was my new meal and it would take some definite restraint to keep me from actually killing them. I was really pissed about my bike. If anyone knows anything about me they know two things, you dont mess with my family first and foremost and you never ever fuck with my bike. I cracked my neck from left to right as I walked. If I had a dollar for every broken neck I've had in the last five hundred years I'd have a lot of extra cash. I ducked my head into the drivers side door and found the car empty. I sniffed the air, it was that drunk jackass from the bar. Now I knew I'd need to show some restraint cuz he teetered on the edge of being a dumbass and making my list of sadistic people I approve of killing. I stood and focused all of my senses on the area around me. I listened for any indication of any sign of him. At first I picked up nothing except some animals in the distant forest around me. Thats when I heard it in deeper into the forest. Painful moans from a female, most likely the one from the bar. I mentally told myself to walk away and not get messed up in this situation. I started for my bike and assessed the damage. Mostly bodywork would have to be done, not like I didn’t have the time to do it.  The back end was hardly hanging on as I stood it up on its wheels. I cringed as the end drug across the blacktop I apprehensively push it forward. I sit on my bike and rev the engine. Doesn’t sound like anything too serious. I release the clutch and as I begin driving I hear blood curdling screams coming from the woods. I sped up, I have things to do. I can’t worry about every little human that I run across. Just as I turn around the bend I start slowing down. I slam my feet into the asphalt and curse out loud. Damn my conscience! One of the few things I surprisingly haven’t lost from all these years of being a vampire. Most vampires lose any sense of decency when it comes to humans. Of course, most of them have a diet which consists of human blood.  You don’t see many people who eat steak jumping in front of buses for a cow. I head back in the direction I came from at full speed. I needed to fix whatever this situation was as quickly as possible. I needed to get back to Chicago and follow up on any of the new leads I can run into regarding the decedent.

I step into the woods and heightened my senses. I become immediately aware of where the sound is coming from and speed into that direction. One of the many perks of being a vampire is that we can approach people without being heard, seen, or noticed. We were made to hunt and we are good at it. I peer behind a tree and I can see the back of the kid from the bar. He can hardly stand on his two feet. He is drunk and the way he tries to keep his balance by leaning onto the tree isn’t the only dead giveaway. He reeks of alcohol and it wouldn’t take my heightened sense of smell to notice it either. My adrenaline rushes as I see him smack the girl he was with across the face.