A short fiction that just turned out this way as I was writing for http://kellieelmore.com/2014/02/07/fwf-free-write-friday-image-prompt-14/
He lived a thousand years. Dark nights and streets hid his secrets, his desires and lust. Hearts pumped only for him. He heard the life gurgle through veins, pulse through the heart and burst forth again. Life was what he craved, the life taken from him or never given to him. He was an empty vessel, an undead being, a vampire.
His wrinkled fingers with strong ashen nails held the instruments of destruction. He would wait, a man in the shadows for an unsuspecting stranger to wander into his embrace. Sometimes he spat a thought or word into the air and watched the chaos unfold on the victim he chose. He’d smile as he watched them unravel until he could take what he wanted, needed and craved. Sometimes when he was bored, he’d drain them of all the life they had, without the game. He had good days and bad.
Tonight he’d been caught. Police had found him prowling near a murder scene with a bloodied axe. He smiled when they found him, he did not resist for they had no idea what or who they were dealing with. Oh they thought they knew. They thought they had found an insidious character…which they had just not in the way they imagined.
He could hear them congratulating themselves, how silly they were, he would outsmart them and when morning arrived they would find him gone. He was not human, not anymore indeed he wasn’t sure he’d ever been human. Not in the real sense of the word. When you’re a thousand years old time plays tricks with the memory. He was sure he had been a child once. It seemed so long ago he’d forgotten. He had a vague picture of a woman that would sometimes come into his mind that he thought may have been his mother. She was smiling but he didn’t like her smile so she couldn’t have been…mothers they say, have nice smiles. Still he was his own indestructible being. He was clever and the proof of that was in the hiding and he had hidden in the shadows of society virtually unnoticed all this time.
As the first light of dawn crossed over his cell, he knew it was time to go and as he lay down for the last time he heard a familiar voice echo down the hall.
“So you got him.”
He laughed no one had got him, not even the good doctor. Soon they would see and he closed his eyes as footsteps sounded down the corridor.
“You’d have thought a 85 year old man wouldn’t have it in him anymore. That’s why we moved him to a less secure facility. To think him capable of three brutal murders at his age, he seemed to have become so sedate in his older years. He almost seemed cured.”
“Well Doc, once a psychopath, always a psychopath.”
“He killed his mother you know, at the age of 7 with an axe, so brutal and that was it…locked away never to be released. I really thought he deserved a break.” The Doctor sighed. “Well better get him home before sun up…you know he thinks he’s a vampire, gets very distressed if he’s in the sun. Okay Harry, up and at em it’s back to the hospital for you old boy.”
The detective opened the cell door walked over to the cot to wake him. Harry didn’t move. “I think he might be dead Doc.”
He didn’t like the pain of rebirth or those bright lights. It was a brutal time, the poking, prodding, cleaning, wrapping it was all quite distasteful. Yet it was a chance to start over and he’d make sure he wouldn’t stuff it up like he did the last life. Then… there she was, that woman again, looking down at him with that same smile. He never liked that smile.