In a way, the modern world offered a quality of life to vampires that could’ve only been dreamed about by my ancestors, forefathers, and well-aged associates. The twenty-first century was a century designed with a nightlife in mind.

A vampire could now work a real job, with plenty of prospective opportunities. Some worked overnight at supermarkets, others enjoyed security work, while others still managed careers as writers and bloggers. All of which could be done from the comfort of the night.

For myself?

Well, I worked as a girl at one of the few clubs that catered to patrons who were starved for the sight of flesh. It turned out that there were many perks to eternally looking like someone in their mid-twenties with men always being so easy to manipulate. It was the status quo, no matter what time period someone was living in.

The work also provided me with such a fruitful food source. Lonely men, lonely clients who were as starved for a woman’s touch as I was for warm blood. If a vampire could get over the cruel taste of alcohol and pity then it was a bountiful job indeed.

I looked down at my latest mark, pondering what the young man must’ve done before this moment. His apartment was nice, if a little small, probably something professional? Finance, business, maybe employment in the city’s burgeoning tech sector?

Though any thoughts of such things were quickly pushed aside with a shake of my head.

There was no point pondering what this young man had been because he was now dead. My appetite had been intense and I had overfed, a common mistake and could anyone honestly blame me for succumbing to gluttony?

I licked the last morsels of blood off of my fingertips before wiping any residue upon one of his kitchen towels.

As I was just about to head out, I noticed that there was a picture upon his island. It was of him with another woman, someone around his age. They were smiling together.

That’s when I noticed that there were women's shoes in the entryway and a woman’s coat hanging from a peg by the door.

When would this fateful dear be returning? Later tonight, tomorrow, a week from now? For her sake, I hoped it was soon before decomposition had its way with the young man. Though considering his state, maybe it was best that she never returned. That way he could be remembered as a loyal companion and not as an adulterer.

I touched a finger to the picture frame and tipped it down, wishing not to see this woman any longer.

Instead, I went over to my mark’s coat, the one that he had worn back at the club. I fished around within his pockets and pulled out a wallet, flipping it open.

One plague I hated most about this modern world was its obsession with cards and electronic means of payment. Both were so easily traceable and it would be most silly of me to use.

Thankfully, I did like to pick targets from my place of work and if there was ever a venue that enjoyed the old ways of payment it was clubs and establishments such as these.

Tonight’s mark decided to hold back a full three hundred dollars and change from me and my colleagues, though his thrift would appear to have only been temporary.

I pocketed the cash and tossed his wallet upon the countertop. With that, I was just about to leave. Though before I did, I glanced back at the young man and then towards the framed photo I had shamefully flinched away from.

I may have been a monster but that didn’t mean that my humanity had to pay the price.

“You’re too sentimental,” I murmured under my breath.

Thankfully, it would seem that my mark had a home phone. So, I picked it up and punched in the three fateful numbers to garner the attention of emergency services. Though I did not speak with them, instead delicately placing the phone down.

I heard a voice come through but could not hear what it was saying. Instead, I finally slipped out of the apartment and into the hall.

Hopefully, the EMT’s would prove merciful and that young woman could live with the memory of a faithful partner.

Though all I could do was hope.

---

The modern world made my trade rather difficult. Where my grandfather and great-grandfather could’ve found their prey easily enough, I instead had to work to find my marks.

When the monsters of the night could blend into modern society so easily, it became hard to pick out the vampires from their prey. Still, the monsters did slip up on occasion.

After all, cameras were prevalent and so were many strings of data that could track down a person step-by-step. Credit cards, cell phones, smart devices, and ATM transactions, each was like a little bloody print upon the digital space.

My current mark had proven clumsy over the last few months, desperate possibly? He used the cards of the marks he had killed, creating a perfectly clear radius for me to narrow my search, a couple of city blocks at most. I knew his favoured grocery store, I knew his favourite bar, I knew where he bought clothes, and lastly, I learned where he lived.

Or where he potentially lived.

That’s what I was here to find out.

I stood before a little townhouse, looking up at the door.

It was late, close to midnight.

There was a small glass bottle in my hand. A used perfume container that was repurposed for my hunt. Currently it had cooking oil in it, one infused with garlic. I spritzed some into the palm of my hand before balling it into a fist and knocking upon the door.

A moment went by and no one appeared so I tried again. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be aloof at this hour. These beasts may have been beasts but they still existed in our hyper aware society. But if this vampire was as desperate as I thought he was…

Suddenly, the door started to unlock and a face peered out from within.

“Hello?” he asked.

I grunted and faked wobbling back and forth. “Help me…”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

There was actual concern in his voice.

He closed the door, though only for a brief moment as he slid the chain out of place.

A thin smile formed upon my lips.

The door opened fully, once again, swinging out.

That’s when I fell forwards, right into the man’s arms. He played the hero and caught me. Though as I fell, my oiled hand made contact with his bare forearm.

There was a sizzle in the air and the man howled in pain. He dropped me though that was but a small price to pay as I had just confirmed my mark.

The vampire, the beast, the spawn of Satan stumbled back, clutching at his burned arm.

“What the hell was that?” he whispered before looking at me. There was pure rage in his gaze. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

I smirked and sprung to my feet, launching myself at him. The element of surprise was one of the few elements that I had. He was stronger than me, faster, and possessed powers of manipulation. But what he lacked was my brain, the mind of a hunter.

I drew forth a dagger made of silver and launched a blow aimed directly for his heart. Unfortunately, some of that heighted speed came into play and he slipped to the side. Still, the blade met skin and cut into him, leaving behind quite the gash in his attire and flesh.

He screamed again, howling in pain. The agony was almost pitiful if it were not for the fact that such a ghastly beast had probably heard such screams from his hundreds of victims over the years. There was no time for mercy, the slightest pause, the slightest hint of remorse could easily cost me my life.

The beast seemed to realize what was about to unfold and lunged at me, reaching out for my neck.

He may have been quick but that didn’t make me a sloth by any definition of the word. I dodge under his hand, just in the nick of time, and sliced at his abdomen, drawing another ghastly wound upon his body.

Another guttural note of agony pierced the air.

“Please,” the vampire wheezed.

I snorted but said nothing.

A response was not worth my time, this beast was not worth my time.

Another nick from the blade went to the back of his leg. This was the first of the fatal blows, severing all those precious muscles in the back of his knee. The beast fell forwards, collapsing upon the ground in a heap.

His breathing came out in desperate notes, dying notes.

I frowned as I got back up, studying him closely.

“Who are you?” the beast asked.

I shook my head. “Have you ever heard of the name Helsing before?”

The vampire chuckled, the notes pained and extremely dire. “I thought he was just a fictional character?”

“He is,” I explained. “But his author was not.”

I reached into my coat pocket and produced two things: a mallet and a stake made of wood from a church pew.

The vampire shook his head. “So, you’re some kind of LARPer then?” He snorted. “You’re fucking pathetic.”

“I’m not a LARPer, I’m someone who is hunting down those who would prey on the weak and innocent,” I said, my voice full of righteous vigour.

The vampire looked at me and snorted. “Weak and innocent?” He shook his head and affixed me with his steely gaze. “The only blood I drink is from bags, sweetheart. The fuck would a vampire need to murder someone anymore?”

I froze.

Was my research wrong? The patterns, the predictions I had spent so long articulating, they must’ve been correct? The credit cards?

He’s a master of Manipulation, dear.

Right…

Manipulation.

I looked towards him and pressed a foot into his chest, kicking him onto his back. The dagger hung from my hip, ready to lash out if he needed a little more weakening.

Thankfully, this vampire had seemed to come to terms with his fate and simply fell upon his back.

He shook his head and let out a pained note of laughter. “Just make it quick.”

That was the least I could do.

I knelt over top of him, straddling him.

He seemed amused by this, though didn’t say a word.

I lined up the stake with where his long dead heart lingered. I then drew the mallet back and hitched it in the air.

What if he was telling the truth?

I gritted my teeth together and slammed the mallet down, connecting with the blunted side with the stake. It broke through flesh with ease and plunged deep into his chest cavity. There wasn’t even a scream as his eyes merely went lifeless. He still bore the amused smile that he had held for most of our encounter.

I got up and looked down at my own attire. It was clean.

Thankfully, vampires did not make a mess. They required our essence but didn’t even have the decency to bleed when they were wounded.

I got up and made my way towards the door. His screams had been pretty loud and I didn’t doubt that his neighbours had heard them. The question was, how long would it take them to phone the police?

Still, something plagued me, a nickering little voice in the back of my mind.

I drew in a breath and made my way towards the kitchen. There was a table inside littered with various newspapers and resumes. I ignored them and instead opened the fridge, peering inside.

My heart immediately dropped.

Inside were rows upon rows of blood bags, lined up like the world’s most gruesome Capri Suns. I shook my head and slammed the fridge shut, once more making my way towards the front door.

“So, what if he told the truth,” I grumbled. “Maybe he has a diverse diet?”

I gritted my teeth together and nodded. Surely, that was the case. After all, the evidence didn’t lie while vampires often did.

And even if it was the truth, simply being a vampire was reason enough to kill him.

---

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