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We need to have a little talk.

One thing that pisses me off invariably about most vampire tales is the happy presumption that we can just choose a random menu item from the local smorgasbord, serve ourselves, and then walk away and leave the leftovers for someone else to clean up.

It used to be like that a few centuries back.   Which was nice.   But then people used to be far smellier, more disease-ridden, and more prone to leaving a bad taste in the mouth.   Less nice.   Win some, lose some.

Point is – modern times, boys and girls.   We live in a crime-fighting age.   Now we might call it simple sustenance, but you and the judicial system call it homicide – so we negotiate.   Nowadays we’re not just up against a random individual: the occasional religious zealot or Buffy-wannabe or vengeful do-gooder.   We’re up against Society and Science and the System.   Permanent records, forensics, specific departments of criminal investigations.   It makes going out for a bite far trickier than it used it.

Because – see, as every true villain knows, the secret is blending in.   What people don’t know won’t hurt them until it’s too late for them to realise just what they’ve encountered.   We have no desire to advertise ourselves – we don’t commit ‘crimes’ for the notoriety or infamy.

We’re just hungry.


And despite the dining arrangements getting more – complex – we’ve also got fucking good at this, which is why you never see ‘death by vampire’ as a tick box on the life insurance forms.   In some ways, for us it makes things fun – ‘extreme eating’, if you will.   So these are some of our preferred outcomes to be written on our meal tickets after the fact…

Homicide (by person or persons unknown): Commiting an obvious murder is not off the list – you just need that ‘unknown’ proviso.   Hence – lots of unecessary mess to cover up exsanguination and any distinguishing teeth marks.   Fortunately, real life isn’t like CSI: with enough blood and torn flesh, it’s literally pretty hard to piece together anything at all…

Accidental death: You can get creative with this – stage a little event that apparently ended in unintentional bloodshed (gun-cleaning or animal attacks are popular), or do the deed and then apply the coverup (see above).   Off balconies and in front of trains are useful then.

Missing (presumed dead): This is always a great option.   I’ve said earlier that people usually write their own stories here in the end, and cold cases in real life tend to stay cold because the police have enough on… their (our?) plates.   Only thing is, ‘missing’ needs to mean permanently, or at least long enough for you to have moved on, or the injuries no longer be recognisable.   And that can be harder than you think – particularly if you’re not eager to engage in any kind of actual manual labor (ie. digging, igniting, dismembering, lugging around bags of lye….)

The main thing though, is to not be stupid.   Plan or practise carefully, clean up well, choose wisely.   Avoid high profile kills, anyone too connected to you, getting greedy, getting emotional.


So forget the movie shit, okay?   The private hospital room on the deserted floor, with the call button to put out of reach and the quiet and unpluggable heartbeat monitor.   It’s a fucking fantasy.  

Brix at the moment is in a busy intensive care unit, where half a dozen beds are arranged open-plan around a central nurses station.   That is always manned.   He’s hooked up to all kinds of life-support and monitoring systems that play an ear-bursting emergency alarm symphony if disrupted.   He has nurses and doctors passing by his bed every few minutes – and the family-only visitors even have to sign in.

I should know.   I doubled back around the ER inquiry desk (when they brought in a dude having an obliging heart attack), slid carefully around the corner, and went and peered through the round pane of glass into the IC.   And that’s as fucking close as I was going to get.

I’m not stupid.   And I’m not that hungry.   And Brix isn’t going anywhere.

I can wait.   It’s all about – well… patients.

I have all the time in the world.





  1. a real hunter;) patient and well considered…..

  2. I certainly hope the kill lives up to the hunt. You’re putting quite a lot of time into this one.

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