They claim vamps don't kill.
They preach we are safe.
They ... are dead wrong.
One year ago a hive slaughtered my family and left me for dead. Found by a team of scientists with their own agenda, I was forged into an unstoppable weapon.
I possess their strength, with none of their weaknesses.
I can move among them free from their crippling hunger.
I am their greatest threat.
Armed with this arsenal, vengeance will feed my desire to penetrate the seedy underbelly of their fetishized lifestyle and expose them for the monsters they truly are.
“With centuries of murders, torture, and feedings!” he exploded, hopping in his seat as if suppressing the urge to leap onto the tabletop and douse me with holy water. “All of these vile acts have been committed under the teachings of your demonic demi-god, Vlad Draculesti. Your immortal Lord Impaler.”
One corner of my mouth tugged back in a knowing smirk. “And no one has ever killed, maimed, or committed genocide in the name of Christ?”
“It’s a sorry argument to use our history against us!”
“Yes, it is!” I vehemently agreed. “And yet that is exactly what humans subject us to. You fault us for the mistakes our kind has made in the past, mocking our deity without truly understanding his teachings. Meanwhile, you fetishize our culture and use it in your foreplay. Statistically speaking, human on human deaths outweigh vampire-on-human deaths twenty-three hundred to one. And why is that? Because humans take their passions too far, while when we pair with a human we focus on building a lasting relationship built on trust, safety, and security.”
“Humans you keep around for feeding and screwing!” my opponent hollered, spittle bubbling in the corners of his mouth. “You’re vicious killers!”
“My apologies to our viewers for that use of inappropriate language,” the prim and poised moderator stated into the camera before fixing her critical gaze on the frothing conservative. “Mayor Donaldson, I again ask you to control these outbursts or we will have no choice but to conclude our debate.”
Before his mouth could open to protest further, I leaned in and caught him with my narrowed gaze. “Show me proof. Where is the recorded documentation of these crimes you’re accusing us of? I tell you what, while you hunt to find that, I will wander into any costume shop or Halloween store and snag a set of fangs and a gothic cape that misrepresent us as night prowling fiends. The so-called facts you are basing your viewpoint on are myths formulated by your own kind to make us these legendary creatures that go bump in the night. Thank you, for granting me more power than I can fathom. That said, you should know I can’t turn into a bat, I spend as much time in front of the mirror as the next gal, and I enjoy a few extra shakes of garlic on my pasta. I’m not a monster, Mayor Donaldson. I am a vampire citizen who wants the same rights you take for granted.”