What we've become.

James Fenimore Cooper didn't know jack when he wrote the Last of the Mohicans. Try being the last of the humans. Yeah, I know, it doesn't seem too likely but I've been watching people for years. There's no other viable conclusion, I'm the last human in a world full of willing vampires. Look around yourself one day, go to a restaurant where they serve truffles and kobe beef, but don't pay as much attention to your seventy dollar first course as you do to the people around you.

There are a few signs of vampirism, one of them is the need to interact with other vampires. They're really social, the undead, hanging around with their buds and always trying to make new friends. Seriously, don't be fooled by the pretty girl with diamonds literally dripping from her ears because when she smiles at you, she expects you to smile back. She needs you to smile, because of her vampire-nature. She's a vampire, just like all the rest of them. Stop smiling back immediately, watch her own beaming mouth falter. Tell everybody you know to ignore her, without her nourishment the vampire inside will wither away and she'll be cured.

Of course, thats just the problem, isn't it? There will always be some sappy boy with buckteeth and not enough cash to compensate. He'll smile at her, and she'll feed his inner-need to be treated with respect. Just those two alone could feed off of each other for a lifetime or two, depending on if they have children or not and you know they will, because those are just new victims to fall prey to their lustful ways.

So you see, its impossible to beat them, those vampires. They've managed to worm their ways into the hearts of every kind of human. Rich scum, gutter scum, suburban scum. There are a few humans like me left, ones who have realized what we are turning into, and try our best not to feed the wild animals, but I've never encountered one. Its so hard to tell the difference between us and them these days. One time I tried to smile at this guy who had the look, but he ignored me either because he thought I was a vampire who needed that second smile in return, or because he was a vampire who didn't necessarily want what I had to offer.

Today I'm staking out a club in the gutter scum part of town. The vampires here don't even try to hide their nature behind falsely civilized masks. There's a girl in the back of the club whose been eying me all night. She winks in my direction a lot, and I can't help but think about some sort of crazy people. The only way you can tell they're delusional is because they twitch, like a side of their face might hike up every few minutes. Nervous habits and all. Thats what this vampire looks like, winking one of her painted-black eyes at me and pursing her lips. I can't give her what she needs, just like I couldn't smile at that other girl at the restaurant.

Sometimes I feel so alone in this world, surrounded by needy vampires with only a few unknown humans left for company. I don't know who they are or where they are, I might as well be the last of the humans. I don't need anything, don't lust for women or gamble money. I guess I'm probably one of the only sober people who frequents this club. I know that they're out there though, my people. I can feel their eyes on the back of my head every now and then, but when I turn around, they disappear like ghosts. Some of them even leave the same creepy-crawly breathy feeling on the back of my neck.

What can I do then, when the only humans left are hiding from the masses? Hermits, tramps, hobos, loon's. Thats us, the vampires have labeled us names just as ugly as their own. Leaches, 'suckers, needy ex-girlfriends, and my personal favorite: the damned.

Right now the one who was winking at me earlier is coming over to my table. Her eyes are black like the night and she's got her translucent fangs barred at me. I find myself tilting my head back to look her in the face. This brand of vampire wear shoes that make them appear longer and leaner. More leg, more body, more for their counterpart vampires to drink up. Huh. I guess I should start keeping tabs on short girls, maybe they're not as prone to vampiracy as bigger ones.

"Whats your problem kid?" she asks and I realize the darkness of her corner has hid wrinkles from me. I'm at least ten years her junior, maybe even more. You can never tell with vampires. "Are you deaf, blind or dumb? I've been trying to catch your eye all night!" She stomps one of her huge, clunky boots and my table rattles with the sheer force of it.

For a moment I feel need like no other. I want to take this girl out and I want her to be mine, but then visions of what she wants from me start floating around in my head. She wants to take me out back to some obscure alley and sink her fangs into me. Revulsion fights off the needs, but while the battle is going on, I find myself helplessly out of control. The vampire is staring at me, she's pretty cute for one of the damned. Her eyes are brown like the kobe beef I had at that expensive joint the other night and her hair is chock full of chemicals to make it seem more like the smiling vampires hair. Smooth and unnatural, something to tempt her victims with before she goes in for the kill.

I'm still staring at her, but my eyes are empty. I can't help but wonder, does she think I'm dead or blind, like she asked before? I certainly would have thought that. After awhile she makes some excuse laced with unrequited lust. She tosses her chemical hair over a bony shoulder and stomps away from me, except this time she's headed in the opposite direction of her corner table. There are a few girls wearing similar boots as her, I immediately suspect she belongs to a Coven of vampires who have needs like herself. They close in around her, casting final dirty glances in m direction. One of the girls licks her lips, maybe hoping to do better with me than her friend did.

No such luck, I look at her warily and try to keep the distaste off my face, to be polite. She rolls her eyes and pats her friend on the back.

Later that night I'm waiting out front for my car. I guess this place isn't exactly as third-world scum as I thought it was, if they have a valet. I'm partially hidden by the shadows, with only the flicker of my cigarette showing up in the four AM lighting. The cluster of Coven girls have just exited the club, wobbling around on their stilt-shoes. I can see the girl who had been licking her lips earlier, she's not nearly as tall or seductive as the rest of her friends, but I suspect she's the best of the vampires. I can just tell by looking at her that even if she had been raised in a colony of just humans, she would have grown up to be an infectious, volatile 'sucker. Right now she's talking to her friends in a low, husky growl that carries well.

"believe it? He said no to May, but the second she came over to our table, he was practically undressing me with his eyes! What a creepy kid," she finishes, even though as far as I can tell, she's barely legal herself. May is the girl with kobe beef eyes, I find this to be pretty funny. Her parents probably named her after the month she was born in, or maybe she was even conceived on some hot May night by some seventies hippies with a need for drugs. They didn't name her for the word. This girl has never asked a victim "May I?" before assaulting them. Im amused by this, choke on smoke and have to turn my face from the cluster of girls in order to preserve my secret identity. I am that creepy kid but they don't need to know that yet.

May shakes her head and I notice she's trying to be the better person here, looking like a solemn teacher whose given up on a student with potential. "Guys, that boy was so creepy. When I went over to his table, you didn't see him from the front. He was looking at me like he was a ghost or something. Definitely not human... there was like nothing there. Serial killer creepy." The other girls nodded like May was the Jesus to their apostle and she had just spoken the word of God. The short one runs a few fingers through her extensions and muttered something that makes me think she's the kind of vampire who feeds off of attention, but not like the smile-sharing, rich vampire. This girl likes to be bad, and she likes everybody to be watching her.

I decide not to feed her anymore, turn my gaze back to the fading sparks of my cigarette and pretend to ignore the vampires. Its hard to do, but my car comes quickly and the vampire driving it doesn't even care that I'm not going to tip him. I drive fast for a long time, taking an unfamiliar route back home because I've always been one for adventures. May's words bounce around my brain, frustrating and confusing the human being inside of me. Like a ghost, she said. The words scare me a lot for some reason, maybe because being undead like her, I trust May to know about ghosts and vampires and witches. I expect her to have even met a few ghosts, who go through life with sightless eyes and only wish for somebody to complete their soul, to make them feel whole.

I slam on the breaks, not really caring much about the damage its probably done to my car. I'm on an empty street downtown, surrounded by derelict houses, can't even imagine what kind of scum lives here. I'm looking at myself in the mirror, and for a second I don't seem to be living up to the 20/20 vision I've been told I have. For a second I don't see anything behind my eyes, nothing human by any rate. Like a ghost. I look like a ghost, and I only wish for the company of other humans who understand me. Maybe that one guy I was watching a lifetime ago was right not to talk to me. Maybe he's the human and I'm just a ghost imitating something I once was, but never getting it right. Not exactly living in fear, because to do that I'd have to actually be living my life.

Theres a man outside one of the houses, he makes a gesture with one hand and sticks another one into his pocket. I see him walking toward me in slow motion, but I'm not done thinking yet. I can't seem to move my feet and escape these vampires.

Vampires have needs, they crave more money, drugs, sex, knowledge, any number of spiritual and material possessions. They want everything. Humans want the company of each other, and a little life to call their own, they aren't afraid to take some things for themselves, but they aren't like vampire, their needs are natural and understandable. But me? I'm just a ghost. I don't need anything, I don't want anything and there is nothing behind my eyes.

There are four of them, they're inching forward. They are true hunters of the night, sensing that if they make a sudden movement my ghostly spirit will be jolted back into its reluctant body. Each of them has a hand in a pocket, but their hands are too small to be making those bulges. They are still coming forward, half blending in with their surroundings.

I'm sitting in my car, shivering with denial. By denying myself those understandable, natural human possessions I have unwittingly been building up a large hole where my soul should be. I feel so empty all of the sudden, and all I can think is that humanity can't survive the vampiracy. Rebellion is futile, even in such a single-minded, lonely way as my own private rebellion.

They are close enough for me to recognize what the shape on each of their arms is. Each bare a tattoo, similar to their brother vampires, but uniquely their own. I am surrounded. One is at my window, drawing forth a hand to tap on it. The others are on all four sides. I can't run now, these vampires will get what they want from me, or they'll take my life as a payment instead.

One way or another the needs buried deep inside of us are triggered. You can't escape your destiny, even a cursed, damned one like my own. I fought the law and the law won, the radio blasts the song. My last action is to turn to music off. I don't want to be reminded of my fate, I want to escape into my needless, ghostly state and avoid thinking what I know to be true. Eventually the world weeds the rebels out, the strong triumph over the weak and in the end we will all become vampires.

ooc- meh, just a little thing I typed up. its a rough draft
go ahead and reply.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

What age do you think our protagonist is? He mentions at one point that the short vampire girl looks barely legal, closer to his own age than to Mays age. If you had to guess, would you think he is legal or not?

If you were a vampire what would your blood be? Example: The short vampire girl craves attention for doing bad things. Business men at the posh restaurant may crave money.

Is our protagonist insane or not?

Etcetc