Prologue

 

            Please do not call me a vampire.

            The term implies a monstrous creature, roaming the Earth in its own dead flesh and hunting the lives of innocent victims. It is no small wonder that legends of the ‘undead’ have circulated cultures throughout history; my people have been around as long as yours. Some portrayed us as demons, others as revenants of evil men. They have attached stigmas such as immortality, an aversion to sunlight or sacred talismans, or magical powers. None of these things apply.

            I was born, like you were, to parents who passed their genes on down the line. I sleep in a bed (not a coffin, thank you), and I cannot transform into a spider, bat, or any other creature. My race is actually quite similar to yours, though represented in much lesser numbers.

            There are differences, of course. My senses are heightened to ten times the strength of yours, and I can easily outrun any human being without having to catch my breath. Unfortunately, the circumstances under which I can make full use of these abilities are infrequent, but they aide me well in my daily tasks. For instance, my eyesight makes it possible to see over long distances or in great detail. That, in combination with an astute memory, makes crossword puzzles and word-finds quite simple.

Also, my immune system is invulnerable to your human maladies; I have never been host to so much as a cold virus. My people do not get cancer, parasites, or social diseases, resulting in longer life spans. Even our wounds are significantly less debilitating (due to an extraordinary pain threshold) and typically heal at twice the rate of similar human injuries. The most frequent cause of death among us is old age. Well, that and murder.

Oh yes, and my body requires moderate levels of a certain enzyme that can only be found in human blood.  

            Now, don’t look at me that way! You have your nutritional needs, and I have mine. How do you think your steaks, frozen fish fillets, and chicken nuggets come to be on your plate? Someone, some faceless man in a far away place for your purposes, took their lives, removed their organs, and dished them up to you in a clever cuisine.

My people are actually much more considerate in acquiring our dietary needs; since we don’t actually eat the flesh, killing is not necessary. In fact, the ancient methods we employ to draw blood are quite pleasurable to men, and rarely do they realize the purpose that they serve.  Modern culture has simplified things even more so. Your sciences have come to offer alternate means of extraction which greatly benefit those of us who don’t like to get our hands dirty, so to speak.

Regrettably, these strides toward what your people call ‘civilized’ behavior have gone unnoticed by the vast majority. Those early stigmas have followed us into the common era, and we are still a thoroughly misunderstood culture. An unpleasant consequence of our physiological differences, I’m afraid; humans panic at the mere mention of our kind. Countless lives have been lost to the futile fight for equality over the centuries. This is why you will not know of us, apart from those ridiculous legends. We move among you, and yet we are not known. The life of secrecy has been ingrained so deeply in our traditions that we do not expose our heritage even to others of our own kind without being wholly certain of their loyalties. Blind trust is never an option.

It is a lonely existence. Contributing to a society that does not belong to you. Severing the blossoms of would-be friendships in fear. Sustaining life amid those who would shun or kill you if they knew what you were. Imagine me, if you will, with an open mind. My name is Corrine Glass, and I am not a vampire.