Black Vampire In OttawabySamuelx©
Ah, another night and another glorious kill. I smiled to myself as I discarded the corpse of one Monica Crevasse. The beautiful, blonde-haired and green-eyed young woman lay on the ground, unmoving. Her alabaster skin looked unnaturally pale from loss of blood. I licked my lips, tasting her blood. Just one of the many pleasures of being a Vampire. I buried her, then dusted myself off and walked away from the cemetery on Montreal Road. Hastily I left the area, for even at three in the morning there are always people walking around. And I tend to attract attention whether I like it or not. I am a big and tall Black guy in my mid-twenties. And in a town like Ottawa, Ontario, I can be considered exceptional with a capital E.
I hurried back to my apartment in Orleans, on the other side of the City of Ottawa. Soon daylight would flood the world, and I needed to be gone by the time it got there. As far as I know, I'm the only Vampire in the City of Ottawa. I've never seen another one of my kind in the area. And that suits me just fine. Vampires don't particularly like their own kind. The only other non-human entity I encountered in Ottawa was that really weird chick I bumped into at the Saint Laurent Mall the other day. You should have seen her, man. Tall and slender, but somehow curvy. Dark bronze skin, long Black hair and dark brown eyes. She was either Hispanic or Persian, one of the two. The moment I saw her, I knew she was different. Something about the way she moved. Now, you must understand that to a Vampire's eyes, all humans are clumsy creatures.
This lady moved through the mall as sure footed as a cat. And man could she move. The gal had a nice, round butt on her. I've always liked ladies with big round butts. I did when I was human and I still do now that I'm one of the Undead. I looked at the lady and what no human could see became painfully obvious to me. She wasn't human. Or at least, not completely human. I smelled something else on her. A smell vaguely reminiscent of a wet dog underneath her Britney Spears inspired perfume and feminine deodorant. Ding ding! I think we've got a Werewolf on the premises. I boldly walked up to her with a smile on my face. Immediately upon seeing me she tensed. The tall, pretty lady sniffed the air. Her nose wrinkled. Her teeth gritted. Her eyes narrowed. Vampire, she spat. I smiled confidently and extended my hand to her. In a warm and friendly voice, I wished her a Happy New Year. The female Werewolf eyed me coldly, and asked me what I was doing in the mall. I nodded to my shopping bags which contained the Hugo Boss business suit I just bought. I am shopping, what else? I asked her for her name. When she refused to tell me what it was, I told her I'd see her around. Then I casually walked away. I shook my head. Sometimes, the life of a superhuman can be quite lonely.
Vampires, Werewolves, Demons and Monsters are all around you. All of us look human most of the time. We're your grocery store clerk, your mall security guard, your fraternity buddy and your friendly neighbourhood fireman. If the humans knew exactly how many of us freaks walk among them, they would have a fit. There aren't that many Vampires in the world, mainly because we're somewhat less prolific than the other species of non-humans walking the planet Earth. I was born in 1834 in the island of Haiti and became a Vampire in the summer of 1859. An ancient African Vampire named Faisal transformed me into one of the Undead. He's no more, for I killed him for what he did to me and my family. At the time that I slaughtered him like a gutless chicken, Faisal had been alive for nearly a thousand years. He came from one of the African kingdoms near the Arab world. In his time, he'd been a colleague of Mohammed, the Founder of Islam itself. I beheaded him without hesitation or mercy one morning as he slept after killing an entire family to satisfy his blood lust. He was a glutton, that ancient one. Vampires don't need to feed every night. Our systems are stronger than that. Once a month, a Vampire needs to drink about ten litres of blood. Animal blood does just fine but human blood tastes much better.
Vampires are hated by all the other non-human entities that live on the planet Earth, surreptitiously sharing the globe with the human species. Demons, gargoyles, monsters and werewolves along with zombies, they all hate us. Once upon a time, Vampires ran the underworld of creatures because of our audacity and sheer numbers. We are also renowned for our cruelty. The look of contempt given to me by the tall, sexy female Werewolf inside the Saint Laurent Mall bothered me. My kind are supposed to be king. All the others eventually die, you know. Demons, gargoyles, monsters and werewolves live much longer than humans. They can live for centuries, sometimes well over a millennium. They do age, however slowly. Vampires don't age once we become members of Club Undead. I became a Vampire almost two hundred years ago and I've been looking like a six-foot-three, 240-pound, twenty-five-year-old Black man ever since. In mortal life, my name was Joseph Saint-Roi. And I was the son of a wealthy Haitian family. One that rose to prominence shortly after the Haitians won their independence after a costly war with the French Empire. I have fire in my blood, Vampire or not. And I am tired of stalking the shadows. That's why I decided to make myself an army.
For this reason, I began stalking the lost souls in Vanier. Drug dealers, prostitutes and other people that folks don't miss. I lure them and bite them. Just like I bit Monica Crevasse. In three days she will rise again as a newborn Vampire. She's the sixth person I've transformed in eleven days. Soon I'll have myself an army. We're going to take over the night in Ottawa and probably the rest of the Province of Ontario. Let the werewolves, demons, gargoyles, zombies, ghouls and monsters fear the might of the Vampire Brood again. I won't make the mistake of trusting my new converts like Master Faisal did, but I will keep them under control. Anyone who disobeys me will get a stake through the heart. For I am the Master now. My house, my rules.