July 11, 1841 - Mt Everest

     The snow swirls around me in a hurry with no place to go except into the silent abyss. The silence of the night reaches even the coldest parts of these mountains. For a human, a trip up this mountain is a completely different experience than a vampire. Humans spend weeks, sometimes months, hiking this mountain in particular. A rite, the mountain, calls them, tempts them, and, sometimes, it claims them. Vampires can do this hike in less than a day, careful to avoid the sun. Peeking into the troposphere, humans find the limited oxygen debilitating. Vampires do not need to breathe; therefore the crushing of our lungs is minimal. 
     Still, it is no wonder why humans risk so much to be here. Sitting on top of the world does have a soothing, humbling effect. Even in the dark, the view is not lost on my eyes. The world and all its turbulence is lost to an ocean of clouds wrapping around the neighboring peaks. Serene and peaceful, the mountains tower above everything. Everything except the monster inside of me. My hunger cannot be escaped. Not even at this height can a vampire rise above its most primal need.  It pushes against me as strongly as the wind here. Some say that humans should fear this mountain; but humans should not waste their fear on inanimate things.  Humans should respect the mountain. They should fear creatures like me.

May 13, 1938 - Cleveland

     The snow blows in through the shattered glass. This abandoned factory once held the futures of so many middle-class workers. Now, it only houses dirty needles of the lost and the corpse next to me. Her death is almost reflective of this factory in its own way. Once so full of life, now she is only a shell that grows colder by the day. Her dreams, her future, is gone. Floating away with the flurry of flakes that dust her skin.
     When I saw her standing in the snow,waiting for a taxi, I did not plan for her to die. A much different carnal need was driving me. However, to be honest, I suppose I knew it would end this way regardless. She gave me her body and I took so much more.  It was not a lack of control. I was not overcome by my inner demon. It is simply a lack of value. Most human lives are not worth more than the meal they provide. Much in the same manner a human values the life of a cow. Sure, a farmer might enjoy their cows as pets. But when push comes to shove, a cow is a cow and dinner still needs to be served.

October 1, 1591 – Ajaccio

     The heavy scent of blood begins to have an effect on me that it rarely has before. Guilt. Not regret. Regret is a constant companion. No, guilt is different. It was not my choice to become a monster so the outcomes of being one is not often accompanied by guilt. However, I did choose this massacre and I chose it for selfish reasons. I am to blame for the death I feel in this home. 
     The pain of blaming oneself could consume a vampire easily if it is permitted to do so. But when a freshly warmed hand touches mine, I know it will not consume me tonight. With her eyes still black, Yen slides onto my lap. Her fingers push through my hair and traces crimson along my jawline. Heat surges through me, distracting me from feeling culpable. Surrounded by bodies in a tiny living room, she wants to take away my pain. And I will let her. I will let her take every part of me. 

June 17, 1828 – Boracay

      The sun set hours ago; yet the sand is still warm between my toes. Some humans come to this island to relax, letting the waves take away the troubles of their mundane lives. Others come for amusement, fun in the sun helps them forget how mundane their lives truly are. My only wish in this moment is to experience a genuinely mundane night. One without hunting, and one without killing. Just one boringly, human-like evening in which I could pretend that my life is mundane. A night filled with sitting on a beach, imaging a life in which my monster does not call me.
      The moon is low tonight but its light is weak, allowing the waters to remain an inky black. It would be a good night for hunting. One could get close to a human before they were ever even noticed. However in the consuming darkness of the ocean, Kate stands alone as the water laps against her. Waving me toward the dark abyss, her smile beckons me to join her. Raising to my feet, I start toward the water. I came here to feel human; and right now, nothing seems more human than swimming with your best friend. The only friend who really sees my darkness but still refuses to look away. 

April 3, 1938 - Cleveland

     Headlines scream across the front page, another missing person. Another body waiting to be found. Another family full of heart break. He thinks he is invincible; that nobody can outsmart him. But hunting is not about outsmarting anyone. It is about being cunning, ruthless, and patient.  Waiting to find your perfect opportunity, exploit it, and continue to go unnoticed.  But he has been noticed. Far too much. This human is bringing too much unwanted attention to my hunting grounds. Too many police paroling the dark alleys and shady streets in hopes of preventing more bodies. His monster is interfering with mine. So while he watched her, my eyes stalked him. 
     As he believes himself to be untouchable, it will be my teeth that pierce his skin. And while he begins to view himself as some type of god, it will be his undeniably moral blood that quenches my thirst. Unlike his victims, the police will not his body. My killings are far less untidy, and far less ostentatious than his. Another unidentified serial killer off of the streets. Just a predator consumed by another predator. The police have not been able to find him; but he cannot hide from me.  Nobody saved her and nobody will stop me.