~ Journal of a Malkavian Vampire ~

2004 - 2005
Copyright DoctorAllCome.com - All Rights Reserved

(That means DON'T help yourself to anything on this website!
This journal is the sole property of Dr. John Necessitor)

July 14, 2004 Wednesday
Those days away traveling helped quiet his mind - for now. He visited an art gallery, and found it strangely refreshing to walk among paintings that were over 500 years old.


February 7 , 2005 Monday
Feeling pretty good today. I'll just keep things on an even keel. I've gotten quite good at "shaking off" that bad feeling, but sometimes it grabs me, and embraces me tight. It hangs on too long, and my legs feel like rubber, and I can't focus or walk straight. I'm taking deep breathes now, and I do believe I can concentrate and make well with the rest of my day.

Now it's almost midnight. It is finally done. I have buried something I cared about. He only needed the tiniest of graves, yet I couldn't focus and set my priorities. Two scoops with the shovel, and some fine honing with a spoon, and the grave was dug. I decided to remove him from the tiny box, and just wrap him in red satin. When I rolled his body out of the box, and onto the small piece of ruby-colored cloth, the slight fragrance of decayed flesh wafted up. The scent stayed in my nose and throat for awhile. I should have buried him five days ago, when he was newly dead. I bent down on my knees, and pulled the dirt over him with my hands...patted it down, spread the leaves over the top, and walked away from the unmarked grave. I will miss him.

March 4 , 2005 Friday
Whoa.........the sex was freaky.

Hmm, I can't seem to get more than four hours rest within twenty-four lately. It's going on a week now. Maybe this will have some adverse affect on me.....maybe not *snicker* For some reason, I am just sitting here trembling....but that could be the cold air. It's been a strange couple of days.....weird, still trembling......my whole body.......strange sensation. Maybe I need to feed.

March 18, 2005 Friday
Today I couldn't cope and lay down for just a bit. I dreamed I needed to get refreshed, and I saw a garbage can filled with rainwater. I purposefully tipped it on myself, but instead it was filled with black oil. I woke up with a start...and a headache.

If you don't have nightmares, sleep is like a temporary death. You sink into unconsciousness, and it is all thankfully taken away...giving you peace...if just for a little while. Then you get another chance when you wake up.

March 22, 2005 Tuesday
A thought flashed through his head...it was there before he realized it. He imagined picking up the eight inch carbon blade, the edge almost paper thin and sharper than any other. With his right hand gripping the old wooden handle, he drew it across his left arm, on the inside, between the wrist and the elbow. It was a quick cut...lightning fast, and instead of merely slitting the arteries, he nearly cut his arm in half. He smiled. This was an amusing thought, and he would tuck away for later. He was feeling very good today.

April 17, 2005 Sunday
Feeling like I talk too much. Big mouth. Stupid. Feel like someone has looked deep within and didn't like what they saw after all. I'm sure I am wrong, tend to be a lot lately...wrong that is. Funny, earlier today heard a song I hadn't heard in years and was extremely elated - almost high, I was high. It was the best I felt all day. Then the song ended.

Feel like I'm gonna go to Coney Island.............by myself.

April 27, 2005 Wednesday
As he remembered one more thing he was supposed to do but forgot to, he put his face into his hands. His fingertip brushed something, and he felt his face. There was something large and metal there. It was......embedded in his forehead, neatly centered between his eyes. He reached out feeling it's length and shape and realized he had an axe in his head. He dropped his hands and opened his eyes in surprise, then felt for it again, but it was gone. He thought back to a day or two ago when his dear friend quipped that maybe a crack to the head would knock some sense into it. He pondered this wisdom of this.

May 19, 2005 Thursday
My mind is so screwed up today. Been a strange day. Shoulder sore earlier. Now pains me so much, you'd think it was the target of an ethereal blade...can barely move it, but the pain is an interesting feeling. Must have slept wrong in the ol' coffin. Keep laying down to get a mental break and slip into lucid dreams.........I need to stay up and get some caffeine in these veins.

June 5, 2005 Sunday
He walked into the room. The metal walls were black. He walked to the middle of the crowd, some people he knew better than others. The walls were almost.....magical.....and started closing in.....folding. With each fold, people were blocked out...locked out. The walls continued to fold in upon him. He grinned as the crowd was shorn away. Panic flashed in his eyes as some of his close friends disappeared from sight with another 'fold.' Within seconds he was closed in upon himself, by himself. The closeness of the walls ran a claustrophobic chill up his spine.....but he dealt with it. Now he glanced around, he was in a small cubicle, by himself, alone. It wasn't so bad........it was a relief.....it was good. He grinned. He would enjoy the solitude for awhile, he knew how to get out....get back - but was in no rush.

June 6, Monday
He could not believe it! She had crossed the line and he don't know how. That little bitch was actually trying to kill him! The evidence was right in front of him. How could I have not known? None of it made sense. He got dressed quickly, made sure his scalpel was in his pocket. Still missing his favorite dagger, he grabbed one off the wall. He had almost made it out the door before he realized it had been a bad dream. The Vampire slumped down in a chair and dropped his head to his hand. His mind was swimming.

June 7, Tuesday
It was almost like a fog had seeped into his brain, settling on the cerebellum. At first there was the numbness, then the fog started digging in, searching, ripping savagely through his mind. Thoughts were torn out of place, ripped in half, reason and judgment got separated, mangled. Soon he was left bloodied and bruised, and seriously disoriented.

June 18, Saturday
He sat on a stool in his private lab, elbow on the countertop, and head resting in his palm.....thinking. The package had been delivered. All he had to do now was wait for a reply. He raised his arm, running his hand through his hair. But now he was so unfocused, and had the jitters, had them bad. "Too much coffee," he whispered to himself, "it has to be the coffee." He stood up quickly, and in doing so, knocked the stool backward, and it fell to the floor. He knew what he had to do, and quickly made his way down the spiral staircase to his underground lair. Walking to the first coffin in the second enclave, he pushed back the heavy marble lid and slipped inside. It was on the middle of the night, and he knew he risked nightmares, sleeping so far off schedule. Pulling the lid shut he was grateful for the darkness and the fact that the coffin blocked out all sound as well. He lay on his back, and suddenly realized he was squeezing his eyes closed. He relaxed the muscles in his face and tried to concentrate on easing the tension in the rest of his body. He felt his hands ball into fists of their own accord and thought to himself, It's going to be a long night.'

June 29, 2005 Wednesday 
He sat at his stone desk and wrote.........and wrote. It was very satisfying. He felt good...no, he felt great. It was late, late night and he felt like he was the only one in the world awake, but it was a good feeling and he grinned just thinking about it. He had his headphones on...listing to Faith No More's, Epic. He figured he'd let it loop a few times...then maybe listen to another song. The music restarted and burst forth, and it startled him, and it flashed an image of blood bursting into his mouth and he grinned again. He signed heavily, and thought of  those he hadn't heard from in a while, especially wondering about his First Fledgling...hoping she was okay. He felt hyper, he felt happy. He hoped the feeling would last a bit. He sighed again and relaxed, as the song that pounded into his brain drew near it's end, only to restart again.

July 11, 2005 Monday
He felt like there was some dark being just out of his vision, waiting to pounce on him. He already felt it's presence...felt it's fingers reach into his mind and shred his thoughts then withdrew, before he had time to react. He simply didn't want to wait for it to pull him down. He wanted to strangle it, kill it, but he couldn't get a hold of the slimy bastard. He kept a watchful eye, waiting for it's advance. Maybe it would leave on it's own, if he played his cards right. He needed to gain the upper hand.

July 17, 2005 Sunday 
He sat at his desk, not really focusing on any one thought in particular...feeling rather odd, not elated, not depressed...just there. He slide the drawer open on his desk and glanced down at the 12 inch, long thin needles. A grin playing on his lips. "What the hell," he spoke out loud and he pulled the sleeve to his right arm up and reached for a needle with his left hand. He pressed the sharp tip far into the underside of his arm, drawing in his breath. He reached for another and jammed it next to the first, wincing as he did. Glancing at the clock he noticed the time and ripped both needles from his arm with a grunt of pain. "I don't have time for this," he growled at himself. He needed a quicker result. He pulled back the sleeve to his left arm and rested it on his desk, then reached down to grab the blade from his booth sheath. With one quick swing he brought the dagger up and stabbed it through his left arm, the blade tip hitting the desk underneath. He screamed out as the pain slammed into his head, his voice echoing off the walls. He ripped the dagger out of his arm, exhaling, wiped it off and slid it back into the sheath. "What a rush," he exclaimed, shaking his head violently. He got up and exited his office, locking the door behind him, and quickly made his way to the home theater to watch Robot Chicken. 

July 21, 2005 Thursday 
He sits at his stone desk, many thoughts crossing his mind at once. Inhaling deeply, he lays his palms upon the surface of the cool stone desktop and pushes his hands forward with fingers splayed apart. A sigh escapes from his lips and he pulls his hands back, leaning back into his chair. He just loves this desk, and a wicked grin forms on his lips.

He closes his eyes, thoughts flashing through his brain.... katanas.....red Everlasts....he almost laughs....walking in graveyards.....being home.....axes. He tenses up and refocuses his thoughts......art....Coney Island......drawing a blade across his wrists.

Suddenly he sits up straight a twisted smirk on his face. He grabs his favorite blade from this boot sheath and brings it up, resting his right arm on the desk. He inhales and exhales deeply. Closing his eyes, he extends his left arm over the desktop, his shirt and jacket pulled back from his wrist enough to make a difference. With his eyes still closed, he brings his right hand over to the left quickly, making a deep slice. He inhales quickly as the pain hits him. He opens his eyes to see the blood spurt out in streams, and then watch the flesh heal moments later. He doesn't know why he does it, it always makes such a mess. Leaning back against his chair, he closes his eyes once again. Life is good. A grin curls on his lips.

July 24, 2005 Sunday 
He seemed to be an endless source of really bad f***ing ideas. The stress was intense, the pain reverberating in his collar bones. He felt like a real piece of work, and needed to strike out at something. Going to the rec room, he grabbed up a bowling ball and headed out to the garage. Walking past the Nessmobile and Vampire Prince's red sports car, he decided on one of the vans, and walked to the front of it. Raising the bowling ball over his head, he threw it down with force, shattering the windshield. He opened the driver's door and retrieved the ball. Walking to the side, he held the ball and smashed in one of the large windows, slicing his hands in the processes. Cursing under his breath, he walked to the other side and repeated his actions, blood now running into his dress shirt, a stain of crimson spreading under the cufflinks. He walked to the back of the van and spiked the bowling ball through the rear window, the sound of shattering glass echoed in the garage. The ball rolled against the back seat and stopped. Turning quickly to see what else he could destroy, he was face to face with Corvus. The mute Familiar looked surprised and concerned.

"What are you looking at?" came out of angry Vampire's mouth before he could stop himself. He quickly walked from the garage out into the yard, and continued to walk west. It would take awhile before he could shake off this bad feeling. A long walk was in order, and if that still didn't help, he would take out one or two humans when he arrived at the town he was sure to reach before his rage was abated. He started grinning now, yes, at least two.

July 30, 2005 Saturday 
His head was jerking nervously, his teeth clenching. He needed to focus. It suddenly dawned on him that he derived enjoyment from so few things now....he had narrowed himself down. He stared at the pile of papers he had torn to shreds in a fit of rage....papers he had worked on for two hours. He grabbed them up and threw them in he trash, and relaxed his face and leaned back. Trying to think logically - did any of the things that used to give him pleasure really matter? Well, yeah, he thought, some did, but most didn't. Most of it was bullshit. Appetizers for the masses. Stuff he never really like anyway, but was just fooling himself. 

He did have this damned negativity attached to him like a shadow. Several close to him pointed it out.  Clenching his teeth again, he wondered what the hell was so wrong with it. He glanced at the closed draw on the left side of his desk and thought of the cold, unforgiving steel needles nestled inside, and a grin formed on his lips. He closed his eyes and let an image form in his mind, and his grin widened. 

Suddenly the smile on his face disappeared, and his eyes snapped open, as other thoughts slammed into his head. Regret and paranoia filled his brain, and he didn't want it in there....not now. He closed his eyes again and inhaled the music that was playing. He breathed in the rhythm, tasted the bitter notes. Leaning his head back against the chair, he relaxed. Suddenly he sat up straight. He must not doze off. When the time came, he would retire to his coffin...properly. He still had much to do this evening, a wicked grin lit up his face.

He just needed to grab back the few things that really mattered, add them to the few things he treasured that made his life bearable, and let all the rest of it fall away from him, like the garbage that it was.

August 3, 2005 Wednesday
It has just turned to August 3rd, and he was feeling rather fine. Yesterday was interesting, good conversation, good friends. The day before - went out - visited with some other friends - put on a positive attitude, and made the whole thing better. He knew he was truly a lucky Vampire.

August 3, 2005 Wednesday 
He had one thought heavy on his mind....to break glass, and lots of it. The frustration he was feeling was almost overwhelming, and some glass breakage was just the thing that was needed. He went to his wall of knives and pulled down his new sword, it's blade long and heavy. The thought of going into the main kitchen and ripping the hell out of the place was most tempting, but then he would be involving others in his rampage, and he was sure no one residing here would appreciate his outburst.

Quickly he made his way to the other building across the courtyard, and down to the lower level. He entered one of the labs and locked the door behind him. He raised the sword up behind his shoulders and swung it sideways over one of the shelves on the walk, smashing test tubes and jars, the glass flinging off the shelf. He grabbed the sword, raising it higher and jammed the hilt down over the shelf, snapping it in two. He swung the sword back over the countertop shattering more glass....beakers, containers of chemicals and jars of tissue samples. Fumes started to permeate through the air, and he gave a quick cough before turning and shattering the row of glass shelves going down the other wall. Medical equipment fell to the floor and scattered. He glanced at the large glass containment field in the corner of the lab, and a demented grin formed on his lips. Flipping the sword around, he pulled his hand back, and then slung the sword forward, as if he was throwing a dagger. The hilt of the sword smashed into the wall and shattered it, the glass tumbling down from the ceiling, falling to the floor and exploding.

He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. Glancing at his hand, he saw blood. He didn't even realize it, but he must have been cut in the forehead with the flying glass. He quickly strode over the broken glass, crunching it underfoot and grabbed his sword off the floor. He exited the lab and locked the door behind him. Reaching up he dabbed his finger in the gash on his forehead, he then reached to the lab door and wrote in his own blood, "Out of order." He left the building and went for a long walk in the dark.

August 10, 2005 Wednesday 
He thought over the night....a stressful one to say the least. Many thoughts had flashed through his mind.  Listening now to his earphones he hears..."There's no sex in your violence...there's no sex in your violence" and grins. The night had been bizarre....he grins as he thinks of a conversation that helped him deal. Late at night he listens to Bush, Breaking Benjamin and Chevelle. He grins thinking this journal is the last thing he will do before retiring to his coffin.  Great jams on...he uploads, and grins.

August 20, 2005 Saturday 
The last few days were a whirlwind of images. He sat at his desk and tried to focus...tried to pick out one thought among the many. He tried to focus on subconscious thoughts, but could not recall sharp details of his most recent dream, which was unusual. He just knew it was something of fleeting evil and wind. He leaned back and closed his eyes, thinking of a dream he did remember, one he had over and over again. He often dreamt of a the black oily creature in a massive garage. The creature hid behind the huge metal machine, and creeps forward, reaching out to grab his shoulder seconds before he is jarred awake. He always wakes up at the same point. A shiver went up his back. He pushed those thoughts from his head, and went over other images in his mind, and a grin formed on his lips. Finally able to focus on one thought, one goal, he stood up and left his office. 

He returned a half hour later with a large plastic bag tucked under his arm. When he approached the desk, he slid the smooth-toothed bristol board and paintbrush from the bag, and rested them on the desk. He walked to the sink and washed his hands....always a prerequisite before working on any type of board or paper. After drying his hands thoroughly, he sat down at his desk and stared at the bristol board, marveling at the stark white surface...empty of thought and image. Leaning away from the clean surface, he pulled a small clear glass toward his arm, and then withdrew his scalpel from his pocket. Being careful not to spill blood on the desk, he nicked the underside of this left arm, and quickly grabbed the glass to catch the tiny stream of blood. He watched as his arm healed up, the blood stream slowly turned to drops and then stopped altogether. He glanced in the glass and grinned. He had enough to do what he wanted to do. He slide the glass alongside the bristol board, and dipped the paintbrush into the sanguine fluid. He touched the brush to the edge of the glass, so any excess blood rolled off, and then placed it on the board. Moving his hand back and forth over the board, and dipping the brush in the glass for more crimson color, he painted one of the images in his head.

August 24, 2005 Wednesday 
He went to his room behind his office and removed his jacket, then stripped off his dress shirt and tossed it on the black leather couch. He decided to keep his sleeveless white undershirt on, and grabbed a black tee from the closet, and tossed that over it. Quickly he left for the garage and grabbed his bicycle. His anger was pent up inside, and he had decided to ride it off. He took off quickly, and remembered how a friend mentioned once that he always left like "a bat out of hell." The Vampire made his way into the city, and stayed to the less traveled roads. He clicked up the gears so he would get more resistance and get farther with every rotation of the wheels. As he traveled south, he picked up scents, odors, emotions - along the way. The fragrance of baked sweets assaulted his nose, and he ignored this. More odors permeated the warm air....the scent of fear....joy....evil. He skid to a stop at the last odor and looked around him into the shadows. The evil in the air was strong, and rivaled his own, but was different. He inhaled, taking in the fragrance, analyzing it...and then he twisted his face in disgust. He knew this foul odor, and his anger grew. He wished he could slaughter this kind of cruel evil....not necessarily those who orchestrated it...but what they were doing. He slowly wheeled along in the immediate area, looking for the source...hoping to find and stop the source of this putrid kind, but the scent left with the breeze. He turned the bicycle and started heading back home.....home to his own kind of evil, but at least it was logical, even if only to himself.

August 30, 2005, Tuesday 
My brain is scrambled. Been this way all day. Not hurtful...lots of good thoughts in there....just all scrambled, foggy. I can pick out the brief moments of clarity in my day....was sharp for awhile, talking to my Lab Assistant....then again for about 90 seconds talking to a human clerk at the video store. Demonosia recommended I watch "Dodgeball" so I went to retrieve this flick. I didn't even ask Dark Cobra or Corvus to drive me....just grabbed the Nessmobile and went. *Big Grin*....yeah - just what everyone should do when they are feeling unstable ....get behind the wheel of heavy machinery (couldn't even remember the name of the movie I reserved on the phone when I entered the vid store). Heheh. Well, it's been a strange day....but even here and now, feel a bit more focused. I hope I can get a grip...have a date with two good friends...heheh and don't want to miss out on that fun.

August 31, 2005, Wednesday 
Feeling pretty good. 

September 1, 2005, Thursday 
I am going insane. 

September 1, 2005, Thursday (4:30 pm)
Kinda feel like things are spiraling downwards...kinda can't breath... ...plagued by nightmares. But good stuff is there too...can't forget the good stuff...and can't forget...try not to forget...stuff...too much input... ...need a break...breakdown...breaking point...breakneck speed...break a bone...coffee break....YES!!! Coffee Break. I need a coffee break. I'm gonna take a coffee break...right now.  

September 2, 2005, Friday 
"Helena" by My Chemical Romance

Long ago
Just like the hearse you die to get in again
We are so far from you

Burning on just like a match you strike to incinerate
The lives of everyone you know
And what's the worst you take (worst you take)
from every heart you break (heart you break)
And like the blade you stain (blade you stain)
Well I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst That I could say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long not goodnight

Came a time
When every star fall brought you to tears again
We are the very hurt you sold
And what's the worst you take (worst you take)
from every heart you break (heart you break)
And like the blade you stain (blade you stain)
Well I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst That I could say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long not goodnight
Well if you carry on this way
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long not goodnight

Can you hear me?
Are you near me?
do we deserve(2X)
To leave the earth
And meet again when both our cars collide

What's the worst that I can say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long not goodnight
Well if you carry on this way
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long not goodnight

September 13, 2005 
The Vampire knew he had so much to do. So many things he had to remember. His mood was swinging back and forth as he thought of something he had to do, and got stressed out...then skipped to some fun activity in the recent past, like the trip to Coney Island. Not being able to keep his mind straight, he grabbed up the earphones and put them on, turning the volume knob far to the right. The blasting music blocked out all thoughts, giving him peace....save one....he needed to write a list of things to do. He ripped the earphones off, growling to himself. At this point he didn't even think he could remember to write the list itself. Suddenly he had an idea. He opened his left desk draw and pulled out one of the 12" long needles. The Doctor slipped his jacket off and unbuttoned the shirt sleeve on his left arm, folding it up to his elbow. He picked up the needle with his right hand and held it almost like a pen.

He swallowed, and brought the needle to the underside of his left arm, and gouged out the first letter "L" into his flesh. "Shit!" he exhaled as the blood rose to the surface through the welted skin. Bringing his hand up again, he scratched in the letter "I" with one deep vertical move. The blood rose up and rolled off the side of his arm. Next he made three slashes that resembled a backwards z to form the letter "S". He caught his breath as the pain crawled up his nerves. Finally, he drew the "T" into his arm, carefully not to cut too deep as to slit the artery. He didn't want to make that big of a mess tonight. Finished, he laid the needle down and looked at his arm, a bit light-headed as the pain toyed with his brain. The bright crimson word "LIST" stood out against his pale arm, and he grinned. 

The Vampire felt his flesh repairing under the bloody word. He was irritated the artfully carved word didn't stay longer. The word still remained on his arm, but he knew that no scar or mark remained underneath the blood, and as soon has he pulled his shirt sleeve down, LIST would just get smeared. "What the hell," he growled, and quickly licked down the length of his arm, then slide the shirt sleeve down, soaking up the drops of blood he didn't remove himself. "Write a list," he whispered to himself, and let his forehead fall onto the stone desktop. "Music!" he exclaimed, raising his head quickly. He then grabbed up the earphones and put them on, leaned back, clasped his hands behind his head and listened to System of a Down. 

October 10, 2005 Monday 
He walked back and forth, pacing in his lab. It had been a joyous weekend for him - and yet a tragic one for his friend, he found out when he returned home. He ran his hand through his hair...a myriad of thoughts ran through his head. He just let the thoughts come even though they were disjointed.... Yahoo buzzer .... slit flesh, bitten flesh - crimson swirling into water ... unions ... black tuxedos ... headstones ... grief ... friendship ... family  ... vulnerabilities ... understanding ... wishing he could be somewhere else for someone.

He walked to the counter and opened a drawer, and removed a candle. He dipped it into the Bunsen Burner and lit the wick. He placed the candle in a holder...a candle lit for someone he didn't know....for someone who is important to some of his friends. To busy himself, he walked to another drawer and removed some knives, laying them carefully on the counter. He took out his wetstone, picked up one of the knives, and started to sharpen and hone the edge.

October 12, 2005 Wednesday 
He sat on the old headstone, his feet propped up on the one next to it, his elbows crossed over his knees. He thought back over time, and all the damage he had done. His mind wandered back to the present, and he thought of the damage he was still doing. He wondered if there was a way to stop, to end, to fix. Then again....in some aspects he really didn't care of the damage he was causing, enjoyed it in some aspect...he couldn't help who he was. But still, the part of him that gave a rat's ass wondered....if he just disappeared...would things be better? He had thought of all the times he had slit his wrists....ran the blade through his chest...all the other things he had done to harm himself, and realized he couldn't die. 'I could walk out into the sun.' he thought to himself. He shook his head...he was quite selfish as well, and decided against it. Besides, he was pretty sure it wouldn't work anyway. 

The Vampire stood and walked through the graveyard. His hands clasped behind his back. He thought of things he was supposed to do, things he needed to do, responsibilities he had...meetings, schedules, paperwork. His hand slid to his side and balled into fists.....words popped into his head...red tape, bureaucracy, bullshit, and all he wanted to do was hunt...and feel the warm blood roll down his hands, down his throat. Unconsciously his right hand slipped into his jacket pocket and touched the cool metal within. He slid a digit to the tip, nicking his fingertip on the sharp blade of the scalpel on purpose. A grin curled his lips. He raised his hand and sucked the droplets from his finger, then let his hand fall. His pace quickened, and he was soon out of the graveyard. It wouldn't be long now before he was stalking someone in the town below. His eyes swirled with crimson, and he vanished into the night.

October 13, 2005 Thursday 
He sat at his large stone desk, just staring ahead. His mind was racing....too much input, he thought...to much. Sliding his eyes around the room, he caught glimpse of the .H.R. Giger. It was an original, and cost him a small fortune, but didn't a Vampire get to treat himself every once in a while? He could feel his head jerking, almost as if he was going into some mild convulsion and he clenched his jaw. Trying to relax he glanced down at the slender-bladed stiletto on his desktop. Absent-mindedly he picked it up and started rolling the handle of the dagger back and forth between his palms, the blade facing up. Almost without thinking, he stopped rolling the knife and brought it forward toward his face. Breathing heavily now, he placed the tip of the stiletto into his right nostril and pushed the dagger up slightly into position. 

Suddenly, he brought his left hand up, and  in one quick motion, slammed the stiletto up into his nose, his nasal cavity, his brain. It was so quick that he didn't even produce a scream before his arms fell down to his sides and his head slumped back as he passed out. Minutes passed, and he regained consciousness. Several choice curses issued from the Vampire's mouth as the excruciating pain connected with his brain. With a trembling hand he reached up and yanked the dagger from his face, and the scream came. He tossed the bloody knife on top of his desk, glanced at the crimson stream down the front of his white shirt, and leaned back to let his face finish healing. 

November 7, 2005 Monday 
He sat at his stone desk. He always seemed to wrestle with things in his mind at this fucking desk. He felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders...but he also felt all fucked up too. Seems like he had been gritting his teeth for hours. He wanted to be here....but he didn't want to be. Thoughts of breaking glass passed through his mind, but he dismissed them immediately. No use in damaging a bunch of shit. Not now anyway. He thought of the 12 inch long needles in the top left-hand drawer of his desk, and sighed. 'No, no. not that,' he shook his head. The stiletto was in the bottom right-hand drawer under some papers. He dismissed that as well. His mind was racing, his eyes darting back and forth. He didn't care. He didn't even know what he didn't care about. 

He felt his stomach lurch and the pain shine off his collar bones. He leaned forward slightly and withdrew his favorite dagger from his boot sheath. It was one of the daggers from the set the Demon had given him. It was the center dagger that was displayed in a row on his desk that one night, along with the sword - the sword that meant more than words could say. He raised the dagger to his left hand, and drew it across the center of his palm. He drew in his breath with the pain. A line of blood welled up, and the Vampire watched it, almost in awe. It started to roll off the side of his hand, the first drop splashing onto his white tuxedo shirt. Several other spatters were added to the pressed dress shirt. He looked down and grinned at the red on white, then suddenly ran his tongue across his palm, taking some blood into his mouth. He licked his lips and watched his hand heal before his eyes. 

He looked at the blood on his desk and wiped his hand across it, smearing the crimson across the top of the stone. Grinning now, he looked at the dagger. Mesmerized in it's deadly beauty. He had ripped it up through the bodies of mortals and immortals alike. He slid his chair back from the desk to give him room. Sighing heavily, he raised it quickly, and slammed it down into his right thigh, through the black pants, and into the femur bone. A scream ripped from his throat. He removed his hand quickly, and left the dagger sticking straight up out of his leg - letting the pain sear through his brain. Choking back another scream, he grabbed it again, and ripped it from his thigh. He exhaled jaggedly, cursing under his breath. He held the blade for a moment more, waiting to come down from the rush. The Vampire then wiped the dagger and slid it back home into the boot sheath. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled deeply. 'Yeah,' he thought, 'things are going to be all right.'

November 14, 2005 Monday 
He woke and slipped from the coffin. His night started like too many others, confusing and disoriented. He ran this hand through his hair, he could feel the headache coming. Random thoughts slammed into his head as he walked down the hall. Suddenly insane laughter burst from his lips. Another Vampire within earshot turned and said, "What's so funny?" He shook his head, a grin on his face and thought to himself, 'Nothing, nothing at all.

November 19, 2005 Saturday (12:48 pm) about 1/2 hour later
He'd spread himself too thin.....and now all he wanted to do was continue to kick things. He growled at himself in anger. Where was the logic in just going around kicking things like a child having a tantrum? He didn't know, but it made him feel better. He walked down the hall huffing. As he turned the corner he came across a large carafe of bloodwyne and glasses on a side table. He picked up the ornate bottle and slung it against the wall where it shattered with a most satisfying sound. He grinned cruelly as he watched the sanguine fluid roll down the wall. He continued down the hall and out the door. He headed quickly out to the yard and headed south. He left the grounds, heading for the town below. He would quench his hunger and anger at the same time. He would search for a couple. He was in the mood for a second helping tonight. He thought of the tearing of flesh that awaited him, and a cruel grin curled his lips.

November 22, 2005 Tuesday 
Brain Damage
by Pink Floyd

The lunatic is on the grass.
The lunatic is on the grass.
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs.
Got to keep the loonies on the path.

The lunatic is in the hall.
The lunatics are in my hall.
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more.

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.

The lunatic is in my head.
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane.
You lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me.

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.

November 29, 2005 Tuesday  
Almost everything was off kilter lately, he felt like he was losing control. The Vampire grabbed a beaker from the counter in his private Lab and slung it against the wall. The glass exploded, and a greenish fluid rolled down the wall, making a hissing sound. Growling under his breath he swept his arm backward with purpose and shoved the rest of the beakers, bottles and test tubes off the edge of the counter, where they crashed into the floor. The glass shattered and spread out across the floor, the chemicals mixed together and a huge plume of purplish-grayish smoke rose in the air. The Vampire started hacking and coughing. "Arrrgghhh!" The Doctor screamed out, "I can't even trash my own Lab without causing problems! I can't even WRECK something properly!!" 

He stomped out the door, out of the Castle and out across the grounds. Thoughts of disappearing into the night dominated his mind again.

November 29, 2005 Tuesday - later that evening 
"Fine Again" by Seether

It seems like every dayís the same
and Iím left to discover on my own
It seems like everything is gray
and thereís no color to behold
They say itís over and Iím fine again, yeah
Try to stay sober feels like Iím dying here

And I am aware now of how
everythingís gonna be fine one day
Too late, Iím in hell I am prepared now,
seems everyoneís gonna be fine
One day too late, just as well

I feel the dream in me expire
and thereís no one left to blame it on
I hear you label me a liar
Ďcause I canít seem to get this through
You say itís over, I can sigh again, yeah
Why try to stay sober when Iím dying here

And I am aware now of how
everythingís gonna be fine one day
Too late, Iím in hell
I am prepared now,
seems everyoneís gonna be fine
One day too late; just as well

And Iím not scared now.
I must assure you,
youíre never gonna get away
And Iím not scared now.
And Iím not scared now. NoÖ

I am aware now of how
everythingís gonna be fine one day
Too late, Iím in hell
I am prepared now
seems everyoneís gonna be fine
One day too late, just as well
I am prepared now,
seems everythingís gonna be fine for me
For me; for myself.
For me, for me, for myself
For me, for me, for myself

December 27, 2005 Tuesday  
Ah...after having a cup of coffee with a good friend, feel motivated...feel good. *Grins and shakes head...thinking how much sugar his friend puts in his own coffee,.....then cringes* Okay...so I like my coffee bitter, but I drink it in the company of some of the kewlest creatures of the night.

December 30, 2005 Friday  
He was working...paperwork strewn all over the desktop, the Pilot ultra-fine black permanent ink pen resting on top of one of the tablets. He glanced over at the empty water bottle...hell - he didn't even have his coffee yet! Those seemed to be his only consumables...coffee, water, and of course the blood. Blood.....suddenly he imagined his inner arms burning. He twisted his arms and looked at the pale flesh. In numb fascination, he watched as his arms slowly split open, split deep - from his wrists to his elbows. He stood quickly, his mind grasping what was happening. The blood gurgled up and ran out over his arms onto the paperwork below. More blood...lots of blood...it wasn't logical. Suddenly he realized his blood was burning through the papers beneath him...the splatters hissing as they hit the desktop. The movie Alien flashed into his mind. He looked down as his acid blood dissolved through the papers and into the desk. The blood spilled from his arms....destroying everything on the desk. He grinned, then started laughing wickedly. Suddenly, some speck of sanity returned, and he glanced down at his arms again. They were unmarked, undamaged. "What the fuck?" he whispered to himself. He slowly sat down in his chair. He exhaled and shook his head. "I really need to get myself a cup of coffee," he said out loud, then leaned back in the chair, and stared into space.

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