Reality Bites – by Aura Escher

Vampyres think about blood a lot, but once those thoughts of feeding crawl into your subconscious and insinuate their way into your dreams, you know it’s time to feed again.

I watch her push the blade down on her skin and draw it across, allowing the blood to escape in lovely crimson streams. Mentally, I will her to go deeper – and so she does, her fingers becoming mottled with red smears. The blood flows liberally down her legs, forming a pool around her feet, and while I smile she lacerates herself all the more – now I can almost taste it.

Shaking my head, I halt the fantasy there – disgusted with myself.

The mind is a trickster, for one can only wake from such a dream frustrated, making the hunger all the more apparent. Perhaps it is only my mind that acts as a spoiled child. As a Vampyre, there is always the need for blood – it keeps us energized and alive. In its absence we become the shadow of ourselves – exhausted, sick, depressed and even suicidal. Once, during a time of guilt and torment caused by the inability to accept the nature of my being and the pain it caused, I decided to abstain from feeding – believing that if I held out long enough it would simply go away.

Should you choose to ignore your mind’s polite tugging at your sleeve to give into these urges, it tends to be spiteful – and thus, while your dreams still may contain a million swans dancing through a razor-blade field, there shall always be something, something – SOMETHING preventing you from feeding.

To deny my body blood further apparently gives my mind the right to shut down my dreamland completely – no more dreaming about feeding, dear Vampyre. Lie awake for hours and think about how much you crave it, be fully aware that you are beginning to suffer without it.

By now it is also apparent that the weight of gravity has increased and you enter a state which I refer to as “The Heavies”.¬†Vampyres feed from their swans for energy – blood itself merely acts as a carrier. The Heavies is caused when your energy level has dropped so low that there is an added effort required in movement. Simple things like smoking a cigarette, or even walking become a tad strenuous.

Of course along with The Heavies you are dealing with sleep deprivation too and with that comes a whole new set of difficulties – blindness and deafness. It is not literal in the ordinary sense of these ailments – I call it blindness because you can look at an object and not recognize it at all. Words and numbers lose their meaning. Deafness is actually the opposite of what it really is – I experience the world becoming so loud and echoed that hearing distinct sounds becomes exceedingly hard. These come in waves and make me extremely confused.

At this point, all you want to do is sleep. You can try – but its only a very temporary solution, because sleep is not what you need.

There was a song containing the lyrics, “It hurts all the more because you do it to yourself” – and so here you find yourself at the doors of misery. Depression is a pathetic little creature. When you are depressed, that’s all you want to be. A strange state of being, surreal when something such as crying makes you feel good. And when Depression comes around, how you will dig and dig through the dark chasms of your life to find any old thing to fuel the sadness, even that which has already been put to rest.

My parents are very hippie, new age folk. They raised me on a solid foundation of belief that if your mind was happy, you would be healthy, and the opposite if you were not happy. While I believe that a lot of their ideas are very avant-garde for my logic, I have always kept this one in mind – especially considering that the next stop on this journey is sickness.

The sickness is akin to the flu – achy muscles and joints, coughing and sneezing, light fevers, and so on. I stopped eating around this point too and had become rather indifferent towards death. Eventually my swan forced me to feed – it was one of the few times I had drank directly from her body, but the moment was extremely overwhelming and refreshing. I remember crying silently and biting down hard over the cut, and realizing how absolutely childish and utterly stupid I had been to deny myself the most important and crucial thing. In that moment of plain simple truth, I was happy.

I had gained a level of acceptance throughout this whole ordeal. We have a need, it is apart of our creature, and in order to survive we have to give into our cravings. It is my human side that begs me not to follow instinct – and let it be said that Humans are the only animals that do not always follow their instinct – and, quite frankly – look where it’s got us today.

A hungry Vampyre may easily lapse into a bestial state in the presence of blood. On that day when my donor forced me to feed from her, I had bitten down hard on her arm, knowingly hurting her – and although she had protested, I did not loosen my grip until I had fed my fill. Days later, staring at the bruising on her arm, I was angry and disappointed with myself for having hurt her more than was necessary. There was no sadistic joy in biting her so hard during the feeding, but more a fear of her drawing away before I had finished. Again, a sure sign that my human self was less present in that moment – but this all demonstrates the first hunger our kind experiences – a basic need.

There is another kind, which may occur shortly after feeding, even after a few days. It is a craving so intense that one has moments of complete irrationality where we may not be in control of our emotions at all. We may experience violent outbursts, rage and depression. We fantasize about blood in a macabre manner. The craving is maddening. It is inescapable, our minds set towards one goal – getting more. I do not eat, I sleep very little – and a dark mood hangs over me like a storm cloud – and my likable, friendly nature hides in fear from the Beast.

This kind of craving is not common, but I imagine every sanguine Vampyre experiences this from time to time. I usually associate it with drastic change in ones life, extreme distress, sickness, perhaps even new donors.

All vampyres have to learn to control their cravings, and for some this is more taxing than others. We cannot run from it; we can only work to satisfy our hunger. To ignore it is to risk releasing our beastly nature.

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