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Blue Jeans
 Bio Vampire: supreme (rank 3)
I remember sitting there uncomfortably as another girl was passed out, her head leaning against my shoulder. Coke had been spilled all over the table as Mr. Wagner talked to all the girls at the private party. I had been here for a while and knew how these things went but it didn’t make me any less sick to my stomach. I had dressed fairly conservatively for this encounter, in my torn blue jeans and a loose hanging tank top but in the sea of girls dressed like prostitutes he seemed to keep looking at me. He finally pushed away at a girl with a thick eastern European accent by her shoulder as he turned and looked at me up and down.
“So honey, what’s your name? Wait don’t tell me. All my models have a pet name. I’m calling you Blue Jeans. Yes sounds good. Come on, you know what happens when one of you catches my eye.”
Mr. Wagner grabbed my hand as he dragged me off, the other girls shooting jealous eyes as we walked past numerous rooms till he threw me into one of them. Stumbling to the floor I saw two of the models kissing each other as Mr. Wagner pulled them apart.
“Get out of here you fucking dykes!” He grabbed one of the girls by her shoulder and tossed her out the door. He locked it behind him as he turned his attention to me. He pushed me down onto the bed as he sniffed up and down my neck.
“Now Blue Jeans, time to take those blue jeans off of you.”
I fought back. I pushed him as he tried to lick me. I felt his sweaty hands all over my body as he forced me down onto my back. He grinded up against me as I saw that worm like tongue just inches in front of my face.
“Come on, you’re all the same, you’re all just a bunch of sluts. Just do what you have to do if you want to stick around.”
In my mind I suddenly I didn’t want it. Not like this. I closed my eyes and gripped his neck and tried to squeeze. At first he laughed. He said “want it rough don’t yah?” I was expecting a slap or a punch or, well something. When I opened my eyes I saw him just standing there, his face gaunt as I almost screamed.
Off to the Races
 Psychic Vampire: supreme (rank 3)
As I held onto that leathery neck I saw it all. Visions of his past transgressions that seemed to last an eternity. I saw the first time he did it, it was in the 70’s, he was nothing but a small time agent but the term casting couch was made for him. I watched in wood paneled walled rooms as he seduced comely young blondes on his pea green couch.
It switched to the 80’s. Cocaine flowed like water and he used it to control the girls. They’d beg for another hit and he’d just take advantage of them. I watched as a revolving door of girls kept coming back for more and he took what he wanted. When their addiction became too great or their looks had crumbled away from it he tossed them aside like refuse.
When the visions came to the present I saw the sickest things I had ever seen. Dungeons and whips, chains and restraints, girls blinded folded, prodded and suffocated. As this visions passed through his mind into mine I clenched harder with my fist. My eyes opened I saw his gaunt face, his body stiff as a board as I threw him away. He landed on the floor in a heap as I ran out of the lavish home and into the night.
Born To Die
 Regeneration: standard (rank 1)
When I got him I sat naked in the bathtub crying. I can’t believe I did it again. While some people would say he deserved it I just couldn’t handle the fact that I had left him there for dead. I could still feel parts of him inside my skin. He’s screaming his apologies, asking for forgiveness and I cover my ears to try and get him to shut up but I know that won’t do anything at all.
I grip the knife tight in my hand as I glide the blade along my wrist. My eyes blinking as I watch the long stream of blood flow over my skin and into the bathroom. And while I think maybe it will give me some sort of release all that happens is the wound, slowly but surely closing up. I look down as the mixture of water and blood swirl into the drain.
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