The ultimate cosmic joke played against vampires,
By God or by Satan,
Is the fact that we must exist by strict, violent, deadly, unbreakable...
Convention number 1 --
I must drink the life dispersing fluid of mammals to survive.
Human blood is the preferred drink of choice of my kind,
But if the human preference is not an option... a large animal will have to do!
Convention number 8 --
I am really not interested in sexual contact with a human.
But, the evil inside me... when the bloodlust becomes feral and dangerous...
Will use any type of violence or subterfuge to gain access to the blood I need!
Convention number 12 --
My heart does not beat, therefore I am dead.
But, I walk among mankind as though I belong alongside the living.
And if you touch my skin you will feel the cold, even though I am sucking your blood dry.
Convention number 13 --
The smell of garlic makes me as nauseated as a spinning dog.
And the sap inside garlic, if ingested, clogs whatever is in me that lubricates me.
Garlic is nastiness personified and the sight of it brings me to my knees.
The list of the conventions that control my existence are many more.
Perhaps, I should not give away all the secrets to what makes me tick... and tock.
When you finally meet me, you might rather be cloaked in the protective shroud of ignorance.