My name is not of importance. I am a network administrator, and I work at a large Manhattan firm earning a most comfortable living. At the time of writing this I am 24 years of age living in downtown New York. I had always lived the American dream, I grew up in a suburban neighbourhood I had the perfect nuclear family 2 parents 2 kids I was the older of the 2 having a younger sister. I got good grades in school, went to a good university and took computer sciences, got my diploma and walked into a well paying job. My life has been by definition mediocre.

The only incident that has been out of the ordinary was a car accident that I was involved with roughly 3 years ago. I was driving home from some party at my best friends parents house out in the country closer to New Jersey. There is not much I can tell you from the accident as there is not much that I remember. What I do remember is leaving the party in my car, I had not much to drink and was far from intoxicated but it was a long drive. The visibility was low and the conditions were bad it was immensely foggy out and there was enough moisture on the road to make it unsafe. As I was driving there wasn't much traffic on the road and then suddenly I was immersed into a thick patch of fog and I could not see out of my windows, much like in a car wash when the soap is being applied but before I had time to react I passed out and let go of the wheel and have no recollection after that.

The highway patrolman told me afterwards in the hospital that I was lucky to be alive and that I should not have survived my ordeal he stated that I had swerved into the oncoming lane and that I had clipped a black 60's muscle car. He said it had sent me end over end down a steep embankment and onto a mildly wooded area. The Driver of the other car had pulled me from the wreck and brought me up the hill and onto the side of the road where he called for emergency assistance. As for the driver he was not injured and his car did not sustain much damage simply because of the way those kinds of cars were made being heavy and simplistic in their design. The driver was released after providing the proper identification and information, the officer did not have much else to say about the driver other then he looked Ukrainian or maybe from a southern country by the black sea, as the officer himself was from European descent and had recently immigrated.

During the accident I sustained minor injury's, bruises from the seatbelt and steering wheel, I also had minor lacerations on my wrists and neck that were presumably from the broken windshield. I had lost a lot of blood that night and needed several transfusions after my body rejected the first few, as to why that was the doctors did not have full reason for, something had been mumbled about incorrect labelling perhaps. That issue was never resolved. There have been a few murders around my area in the paper that week which is not really news but a mundane fact of life living in this forsaken city. The job at the firm had seemed to be taking its toll on me, staring at those monitors every day for all of those years. It was like they drained the life out of my veins. Now programmers are known to have unhealthy sleeping habits but this was not the case for me I had more then adapt sleep. I did nothing in my recreation, I had never wanted the headache of a girlfriend, and I usually spent the time playing puzzle-based games online and such instead.

Over time my situation only got worse, gradually every day it seemed as if I got a little bit less sleep. I tried everything, every prescription and non prescription drug available legally on the market and even some that were made available illegally, they all worked but in turn did not, they all put me to sleep but it seemed as if sleep is what I did not do. All the clinics, doctors, specialists and Psychologists had no answers for me they just told me what I already knew I was going to sleep and my sleep was uninterrupted but when I awoke it was as if I hadn't of slept at all. It was taking a toll on my body and my career.

And then the nightmares came, I would have this awful nightmares of mutilation and horrendous murders, the awful screams and the sounds that the bodies make when there being torn apart. The dreams would persist and I soon became almost haunted in the later hours of the night by them there was no escape. My only escape was to stay up through the night like some nocturnal creature and the only thing worse then going to sleep and awaking feeling un-rested, was not going to sleep at all. I would often put in long hours at work to escape the harsh reality that is the fear of what all humans need to function properly like the food you consume and the air you breathe. Nothing gave me pleasure anymore the work I did, the food I ate, the games I played, the music I listened to, it was all bland like the taste of paper in your mouth.

But still the nightmares beckoned me, those horrendous nightmares of things that I did not dare imagine, things that I had just read about before in criminal history. Desperation set in the fear of these dreams these disgusting and putrid hallucinations outweighed this sleeplessness but there was always this urge the urge to succumb to what I despised because behind it all loomed the feeling of relief from this madness, that came from sitting on the fence of physical sickness from the lack of sleep and mental sickness from the dreams. For weeks this hatred battle continued. I would rarely sleep but when I did the awful horror that was sleep was unbearable, meanwhile the toll that had be taken upon my body was beyond repair, I had lost weight along with pigmentation in my skin. The people at work long ago had stopped asking me questions simply because I had no answers as to why just how.

During one of my sleepless nights I finally succumb to what I hated, I could not carry on with the way things were, I had finally realized that there was ultimately 2 choices mental illness or suicide, I would have long before taken my own life than be left to rot as a prisoner in my own body, a slave to my mind my dreams. Or I could sub come to what I hated and feared the most to what I despised with all that was in me those distortions of reality those hideous scenes of murder mutilation and malevolence, but then It happened much like it did in the fog, I found myself out of control seconds before I lost consciousness. And then they visited me those 3 separate scenes of grotesque festering murders each victim faceless, each victim female, each victim bleeding profusely, each innocent, each robbed.

I had awoken 3 days later on the floor in my apartment, I was wearing different clothes, or was I, I could not remember but I was late for work, actually 3 days late, that did not matter now, I had probably lost my well paying job that I had worked so hard for. I did not dare remember the things that had visited me in my unconsciousness but for once I was at peace with what I am, who I had truly become, it was night again and for once I had felt rested. I sat down to watch the 11 O'clock news, headlining that night was the story of 3 murders nothing entirely disturbing, until it went into description, the work of a serial killer they claimed. 3 similar looking victims, 3 identical gruesome murders each strangely ritualistic and twisted but all linked then it showed the images those same images that visited me the previous nights, fear shook my body. Surely I was not capable of that, it was just a strange coincidence. My mind reeled what was wrong with me, why me, how did this happen. I could not find any answers but I would not rest until I did. I acquired all the information that was available on the murders through several news websites local and nationally but these things did not comfort me, they just proved my guilt more and more I stayed up for several nights in a row trying to decipher what was wrong with me. Until once again it happened.

I could feel it coming on but was powerless and then I was rushed into the place that I hated most. My dreams, this time they were more real then before, I found myself leaving my apartment and heading straight for the park where I sat and waited but for what I did not know just waited. Then suddenly it stuck me I saw a girl jogging by and then I knew what I was there for but I could not stop myself, I tried calling out to her to warn her of what I would do but my voice failed me. I was powerless almost like a prisoner to instinct, I silently followed her undetected until she reached her home and I waited she unlocked the door and went in. As she closed it from behind her I leaped up from my hiding spot and slipped my hand into the closing door. Before she had taken her shoes off and turned around to lock it I was inside swift and silent. As she turned her head, it met my hand on her mouth; her muffled scream broke the silence. But I knew that there was no one else inside the apartment. By now I had no control over this horrendous dream as I tossed and turned on the couch that I had passed out on. She tried to struggle but I easily over powered her I dragged her kicking and swinging upstairs where I threw her down onto the floor of her bedroom and then suddenly I awoke from the hazy dream. I looked around it was dark and unfamiliar I was kneeling and I glanced down. To my horror I saw the girl pinned under my knee and silenced by my hand. This overwhelming urge came over me it was a burning desire that must be quenched I could not put my finger on it. I soon became mad and thus the girl exceedingly frightened she began to struggle more moving her feet and tossing her head finally as she tossed her head to one thus exposing her neck I lunged at her neck and sunk my elongated teeth into it. Afterwards I dismembered the body and drained the rest of the precious blood because as you know not all of the blood can be transferred through the neck.

And as I did so everything fell into place, it all made sense. The man that I hit that one foggy night was not traveling in the opposite direction, he was parked. He had cast the fog, a trap for the next weary traveler that would come along that lonely road. He did not expect me to live he had drained a sufficient amount of blood from my body and it would not accept any new blood via transfusion. He also did not want me to end up like this because as common sense would point out, there has to be a control on the population or the delicate prey predator relationship that is shared by our species would be disrupted.

What am I do you ask? Society has various names for what I am. Such as Vampire or Nasferatous, to mention a couple. But you have been led to believe that I do not exist because you do not hear of these incidents? You hear about these incidents every day. In exception that they are all masked with the generalization of the word murder. You know several of my species by name but you do not know them for what they truly are. History has given such more obvious names like Count Dracula or Vlad the Impaler. What about jack the ripper? Surely you have heard of David Berkowitz aka the son of Sam, Paul Brenardo, Jeffrey Dalhmer, Ted Bundy, Charles Manson, and Timothy Mcveigh. All of these you and your society have diagnosed as "serial killers" they are by definition serial killer but more importantly they are members of a master race, why do I write this you ask? The answer is simple. Because there is nothing that can be done about it there is no cure, no solution. Everything on this dreary planet has an opposite and we are that very opposite, the virus that infects the human race, forever persevering, forever hungry, forever feeding.