Path of the Vampire forum

I FINALLY DECIDED TO actually help out, though I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to do it. I'm not exceptionally strong, as far as vampires go. Comes with being more of the mind-type vampire, instead of the i'm-going-to-kill-you kind that most people are aware of. I may be stronger than the average human, but that's not saying a lot. I also probably don't tire like most of them, except when the sun comes up and I become more like the dead thing that I am.

But when I hit the street, I figured I would at least try to find people still trapped in the wreckage, maybe help them myself or get someone to do so. With all the chaos, I figured I would probably get away with using my telepathic gifts in a passive way. Worst case, I'd find someone and be unable to help them myself. Or that I wouldn't find anyone at all.

At least that's what I thought.

I didn't figure that, despite the chaos and destruction, despite the loss of life and the damage to the city, that there would still be those that simply wanted to kill me and my kind, the rest of the world, the rest of the city, be damned.

It happened a few blocks after I had set myself to walking, just listening in to the dull cacophony of voices in my head. I suddenly felt a spike of anger and hatred directed at me, and just reacted. I took a quick step forward, then flattened myself on a nearby wall, just in time to see a long, wide blade swinging towards my head.

Hunter, I thought to myself, and I let my body slide down the wall.

The wide-bladed sword bit deeply into the wall, just over my head. The sound of metal on concrete rang like a muffled cymbal in the cold, snowy night. I didn't bother to look at my assailant before I rolled as far as I could away from him, creating not only distance between us, but also a small cloud of snow and dirt as I did so. I got up quickly, and turned towards him, hands outstretched at chest level, weight on the balls of my feet.

By the size of the blade, I expected a large man, and I wasn't disappointed. Rather, the hunter that stood there was exactly as I had envisioned him, though I was disappointed that he had bothered to attack me in the first place. In this moment where the city around us was falling apart, when there were so many people yet that needed to be helped, his most urgent need, his most blazing desire, his most fervent hope that burned to the very core of him, was to kill me.

Me. The vampire who, just a while ago had decided he would go and try to help out an excavation team or two. Me. The vampire who had tried his best to never kill, that video with my face on it be damned as evidence to the contrary. Me. The one vampire who, ordinarily, would have had absolutely no chance facing off against one of his kind.

I guess it was just too naive of me to think that things would be different tonight between us and these Hunters. Or too naive of me to think that the Hunters had gone away when I stopped being attacked by them.

One of us was well-trained, born and bred to kill the other. A specimen of faith and discipline, crafted and shaped into a weapon against the dark. I was just some unlucky kid practically living on the streets who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't chose this life, though perhaps neither did he. Despite that, here we both were, a killer in truth and in training, and the one he believed was a killer by nature.

It pissed me off.

The phrase itself sounds so mundane, so worldly, so common. Not that I had never used it before; I was as common and mundane as it gets, smarts and computer gifts aside. It seems such an inelegant turn of phrase, but its elegance comes in its simplicity and its appropriateness.

It pissed me off. The entire situation pissed me off. I had just, like so many people from this city, survived one of the worst earthquakes in recent history. One that happened just as a blizzard was hitting the city, in the middle of the night, with the river swelling and spilling over. I survived collapsing buildings, electric poles, glass falling from above, and nearly not making it to any kind of safe haven before daylight.

Here I was, thinking to get beyond all that and to just actually help out, having figured out that, hey, I like this city. And I like its people. I'm going to go help out, since it's my city too. And here he is not caring about any of that, not thinking about anything except his kill, not even giving me the benefit of the doubt, or at least even a warning. One would think that even hunters would want a break now and then, give themselves some excuse or other.

But no. He had to go swing his damned great-sword at my head. A head I'm rather quite fond of and rather quite attached to.

I barely even registered how fast I had my pistol in my hand. One moment I had my empty hands before me to help ward off any blows and help balance myself, the next, a flare of my own self-righteous anger after, I held it in my hand. It seemed like a bad match-up, really: great-sword held by a well-trained man who'd do well in the UFC or wrestling show, versus a tiny waif of a vampire who only looked bigger because of the layers of clothes he wore, holding a small pistol.

Well, okay, that pistol actually wasn't so small, and it was a special customized variant of a Glock handgun, but still, it felt small compared to the horse-killer the other guy was holding up. Thankfully he was using both hands, or I'd really have felt small.

I wasn't sure what I was planning to do, really. I think I didn't really have a plan. More that I was making up one as I went. In the moments as I sized him up, as he pulled his great-sword away from the wall and above his shoulder, preparing for another blow, I even considered flight. But something in me had snapped this night, and I had no intention of running away.

"You have horrible timing," I said out loud. Whether to him or to myself, I'm not entirely sure, even now.

I opened my mind and steeled myself.

WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT NOW, I really wonder what came over me. I'm not exactly the bravest of people, though I'd also like to think I'm not exactly a coward. I prefer to say that I have a healthy respect of things that can kill me. This respect allows me to believe that flight is the better part of reflex, and it has generally served me well. I mean, of course, when I had to I would, if forced to, I would, if cornered, I would. That was pretty much proven in my time with the gang.

So I think something inside me snapped, and I just decided I would face off this beast of a man, with a beast for a heart, pretending he was some valiant warrior for a just cause. And admittedly, his "just cause" really just rubbed me all the wrong ways.

Objectively speaking, he should have snapped me like a twig. Just taking the size-weight-reach advantage, and all I had in my corner was that I had a gun and he had a sword. A large, tree-killing, head-chopping, hernia-inducing piece of steel and what have you, that I have already mentioned I was thankful that he was still needing to use with both hands.

But the other advantage I had was the fact that my mind had learned a few tricks, tricks that I was more than willing to unleash on this so-called spawn of heaven.

I opened up my mind, reached into his, and opened his up, really wide. I punched into it with as much force as I could muster, driving in every loose thought I could cram into him, and then some. I poured the contents of whole encyclopedia into his mind in a fraction of a second, several episodes of Lost, two Spice Girls songs, as well as four nursery rhymes. Then I added on the thought that he really, really, really, really needed to pee.

The moment I saw him flinch, the barest twitch, I jumped back and opened up with my pistol. Two hands, stable in front, squeeze, don't pull. Over and over, I fired at the human bull, and I didn't stop until my clip was empty. Shaken by the barrage of random thoughts, he took several shots to his torso, and I felt some satisfaction seeing a red spray from at least one of the bullets. Satisfaction that lasted about the time it takes for light to move from one eyeball to another.

He took a step towards me.

I slid out the empty clip, and walked backwards away from the clearly wounded Hunter. There was a trace of fear, but I managed to keep my cool, managed to keep focused, while I dug into a jacket pocket for my extra clip. I saw him shake his head, and he gave out a war cry that threatened to burst a nearby window. With enormous discipline, he ignored his pain, and swung his massive sword at me.

As I berated myself for not running, I ducked beneath the swing, then another, then another. Each time I dodged, the extra clip seemed further and further away from my hand, and the sword closer and closer to my neck. I should have tried for a head-shot, I reasoned. Who knew this one bull could take pistol bullets like they were only big needles.

Head-shot. Next time, head-shot.

My mind raced to follow his, predicting his movements the best I could, while pouring on as many stray thoughts as I could at him. His discipline wavered just enough to keep me just ahead, or beneath, or to the side of his blade. His willpower kept him standing where a lesser man with as many bullet holes would have long ago fallen apart. His faith kept him swinging his sword just one more time.

But I had one more ace in my pocket, another trick I had only recently acquired as well.

Two swings after I had managed to finally get the extra clip and jam it into the pistol, I ducked towards him, following his swing. He'd led with his right foot, which means he was just a little off-balanced. It also meant his right leg was right in front of me, a large, well-muscled target.

As much as self-control, discipline and training can get a warrior, there is only so much one can do, specially when the muscles in the limb you're trying to move have been severed. This is less a concern of vampires, as some of us don't actually use muscles. But this hunter, as massive and powerful and faithful as he was, was only human.

Once I stepped into his swing, I put a round into his foot. Then his knee. Then a couple in his thigh. At this range, with his speed all but gone from all the swings he had taken, and the injuries he'd already sustained, I didn't miss a shot.

He stumbled and fell, his leg giving way. I wondered for a moment if I had shattered his thigh bone. Definitely I had mauled much of the tissue in his leg. I urged him on his way with a quick kick, then stepped backwards as he gave one last swing, a one-handed strike of desperation and pain. One that would have ended passing through what was one side of my neck, and out the other side, leaving me with a detached feeling in my head.

But I raised my hand to block it, and in my mind I pushed.

The shield around me, shimmered and wobbled, and I felt the impact of the blade upon it in my head. The projected shield, one my mind had summoned up at the last second, bent, but did not break. And best of all, it stopped the large sword from removing my need to ever wear a hat again. The blade fell to the ground, the Hunter exhausted, his injuries massive.

At the end of the street, I could hear shouting, and I saw lights from lanterns and electric torches flashing our way. Time to go, I reasoned.

On the ground, the large hunter struggled to breathe, and I wondered if I should put him out of his misery. I didn't care about taking his life, I considered it forfeit the second I decided I would fight him. But I wondered what would be more of a mercy, to kill him, or let him live.

I kicked the large sword away from his exhausted hand, and pointed the gun at his head.

Bang, bang, I said.

Then I walked away as fast as I could, before the others were close enough to see him lying there.

I COULD BARELY BELIEVE that I had managed to pull that off. In my memory, I had never exhibited anywhere near the physical prowess and coordination I had just experienced. As I walked quickly away, I could hear the shouts of people who had finally found the fallen Hunter, and I felt completely elated.

I had just faced off with a hunter and won.

I imagine I had some sort of smug smile on my face, but I had every right to it. I felt avenged of the wrongful attacks on me weeks ago. Attacks that had eventually left me almost incapable of function. And now, I had left this Hunter almost incapable of function.

I paused for a while a few blocks back. Why hadn't I killed him, though? Did I hesitate because I didn't have the mental fortitude to pull the trigger and end his misery? But, no, I decided. I had taunted him at the end, left his body broken and bleeding, in order to better taste my vengeance. I had wanted him to suffer.

And I really don't have a problem with that.

I don't consider myself a vengeful person, though I do know how to keep a grudge. At least, that's what I remember, anyway. Until these hunters, I had no reason to hold a grudge, or to seek out vengeance. Save for occasional annoyances on the streets when I walked, nobody had ever threatened me with bodily harm, threatened me with a cessation of my existence, until these Hunters.

But these Hunters... I may not completely understand what I am, I may not completely understand who they are. But I do believe I have every right to exist, and to defend myself from their attacks. So while I will not mock whatever faith they have, I will not allow them to exercise that faith my destroying me.

Still, no illusions. It's very possible that I was extremely lucky tonight. Perhaps there was something that granted my just a little more speed, a little more strength, a little more confidence. It's quite possible that Hunter was not one of their best. Don't get cocky, don't get careless, don't get caught like that again. It's even possible that I am lucky that one was alone tonight. I doubt I would have been able to handle two.

Must be careful, I reminded myself over and over.

I considered again whether I should go and actually help an excavation crew or two. I wondered if it would be safe, if I had once again been hunted, or if this was a random thing, a coincidence. If I had been hunted, there should have been more, or perhaps there should be another. Of course, it's possible that they work alone, and if so, then there would be little risk of being found by another.

Safe enough, I decided, and yet I still walked another few blocks and turned several more corners to put even more distance between myself and the Hunter. Better safe that sorry, after all.

And a good night, despite what had just happened, just got better.

THE NIGHT AFTER the earthquake, the winter storm had calmed a little, which meant that the snow and wind were still significant, but at least not as bad as the night before. Everybody in Harper Rock had lost someone they knew: a friend, a relative, a loved one, and while everybody mourned their losses, everybody, with few exceptions, did what they could to alleviate everybody else's pain.

Emergency and rescue teams activated as soon as the earthquake hit, and continued their work into the night. Their goal was to rescue as many of those trapped beneath the collapsed buildings as they could. There was still no way to estimate the numbers of the dead, but the brave men and women of the rescue teams did the best they could to reduce that count as much as possible.

Hospitals, many of them still without power, used generators and batteries to continue to treat the injured. Doctors and nurses, already weary from the day before, pushed themselves where possible, propped up by adrenaline and drugs where available. Emergency paramedics also did double shifts, directed by shortwave radios possessed by the emergency teams. Even medical personnel on leave reported for duty, or helped care for the families of those still on-shift.

There were volunteers for almost everything, and many helped to clear debris from the roads to help emergency services pass by. Some buildings, deemed stable and fit for habitation, were quickly converted to shelters for those left without homes, or without power. Buses and trucks were conscripted as transports for these shelters, some doing double duty to bring food and supplies, and then turning around to ferry people to safety.

Thankfully, the power lines that were such a danger during the night had been dealt with during the day; power had been cut or rerouted from the most damaged areas, while engineers and technicians worked out how best to restore power to those areas of the city that critically needed it. Hindered by the weather, they pressed on regardless, also doing double shifts and more to restore some order to the chaos left behind.

Air strips, for the most part, remained undamaged, though several runways did show signs of cracks. Because these would be essential to receive outside assistance, some crews worked hard to determine which would still be usable when the weather cleared enough for air transportation to fly in, while others cleared out and repaired what they could.

Outside relief itself was delayed not only because of the weather, but also because a few believed that news of the Harper Rock earthquake seemed ridiculous. While Ontario had its share of fault lines and earthquakes, Harper Rock was nowhere near any known fault lines. By the time news had been verified and accepted as fact, night had fallen again over the city; people hoped the next day would see relief planes and transports coming into the city.

One of the greater problems, aside from the lack of power and the continuing bad weather, was the lack of clean water, and to a lesser extent, food. Pipes had been badly damaged, with many areas, specially those near the river, still flooded and covered with debris. Among those who did their part was the military unit assigned to the Quarantine zone; they helped transport water and food around the city, while still keeping watch over what they believed to be the home of the infection.

The Quarantine Zone itself was a strange and unique difficulty for the city, even in normal times. A wall high enough and thick enough to keep the zombies in and curious eyes out held up well enough through the earthquake, though a small section of it near the river did collapse due to the flooding. Only the quick actions of its dedicated sentinels, as well as the efforts of a few supernatural guardians, managed to contain the zombie threat. Else, Harper Rock would have had to contend with even more problems.

The vampires of the city were less affected by the twin calamities, though there were still losses. Most of the losses were from feral vampires or neophytes who were separated from their sires. For the most part, bloodlines sought to help their own, giving succor to their blood kin in need. Even those of rival bloodlines aided each other, the times calling for different behaviors.

For the most part, I believe that house strongholds remained safe and secure; definitely the Vedarian house remained strong, through a combination of magic and engineering. Its members also looked out for each other, using those of its line who were of the path of the telepath, or those who had studied under it. As far as I know, we lost nobody on Black Thursday.

Of some concern to my kind was blood supply. People were not only more active because of all the emergency work, but also more wary, which made hunting difficult. Even blood packs, usually siphoned from hospitals and blood banks across Northern America, would soon become scarce if the storm did not relent. Some held limited supplies, specially those bloodlines with active members of their first generation, but even those would run out in a week.

Nobody could have expected this level of destruction, nobody could have expected both a blizzard and an earthquake combining to devastate the city. And so none had been able to prepare for its effects, though everybody, supernatural and mortal alike, did what they could to survive the coming days and nights.

It makes me wonder at the resiliency not only of the supernatural vampires in the city, which is something to be expected from our kind, but also from the various humans within the city. Hurt and hurting, Harper Rock's population still sought to help each other pull through. And in some instances, even vampires offered their aid to the mortals, and vice versa (though many times, unknowingly) with the only motivation being that we shared the same home.

Harper Rock would survive this, we all would see to that, mortal and immortal.

I'VE NOTICED THAT I've been a bit of a sap recently, having read some of my most recent entries. I'm admittedly not sure if I'm complaining, or if I'm quietly accepting this part of myself that just appeared in my recent writing. I guess it's a little of both.

I guess I expected that, having become a vampire, I would be above and beyond such things. Feeling, I mean, and specifically for the plight of humans, and for the plight of our city. But I've defied my own expectations in that a dead thing can care, in my fashion, about the things that happen around him.

My rationalization was that we had become more after dying and being reborn. More than we were, better, improved, powerful, capable. Intelligent, aware, knowledgeable. We had been past the veil of death, and crossed back. We had seen death and kissed her hand, and she, in turn, restored us. We had become privy to secrets that no mortal can know without being changed.

Changed. That is what we were, and I guess I assumed wrongly that included becoming less than human in other ways.

Did this realization happen suddenly? I don't think so. Perhaps the knowledge was always there; after all, I do admit that I found myself caring for my sire, Charlotte, from the very beginning. Though that could be rationalized away by thinking that, firstly, she was my sire, after all. And secondly, she was the first person I met upon waking, and had, at least temporarily, lost my memories of my life before Becoming.

And then there is my grand-sire, Keara Aithne, now Keara Marshall. While there is still a part of me that fears her, and I have said this before that it is more the ancient, powerful, elemental part of her that I fear, I admit I have grown to at least the same level of affection for her that I have my sire. She, like Charlotte, has helped me in this time when I am rediscovering myself, both with no apparent motives other than to help.

The fact that she is also now "Marshall" having accepted Enver's proposal of marriage is probably also a factor in this. Admittedly, I was uncomfortable at the thought of two vampires becoming married, or even having romantic feelings for each other. We are dead, are we not? Was how I thought of it, thinking that should make us so much different from the humans we emerged from.

And yet, I also remember stating that we would share many of their qualities and motivations; why would we not carry our feelings with us after we have Become? That assumption, that we would leave emotions behind, or at least certain emotions, was the mistake I apparently have made. A mistake I can accept and move on from.

And so, yes, we do love, care, adore. We feel pain, sadness, loneliness. We can rage, feel vindictive, get angry. And these are just the emotions I can admit I have myself felt, and have also observed in the others of my bloodline. In some cases, we seem to feel even more than humans do, though I am a little wary to ask my blood-kin, and even more wary to peek into their memories without asking first.

Perhaps once I can summon up the courage to, I will ask some of them if I can walk into their minds, their memories, their dreams; maybe I can even offer them the same peek into my mind as well, though I will admit I am unsure as of yet how to do that. Maybe someday.

Until then, I am content to accept that I am a sap; perhaps I will rather use "hopeless romantic," at least in the privacy and security of this journal. Until then, I'll be happy enough to just allow myself to feel, not having any guilt that a creature of the night, a person who has walked to death and walked back, a vampire as young as I am, can have any feelings at all.

WHAT MOTIVATES US to sire? What set of circumstances drive us to steal someone from Death, and create another of our kind? Is there some sort of analog biological imperative, a supernatural vampiric instict to make more of us? What changes in us that we see a human as someone who is fated, like us, to walk the Endless Night, instead of seeing them as just any other human? By what directives do we choose? What qualities lure us into siring a mortal?

I've been wondering about these questions, and the myriad others related to siring, possibly since the time I got over my own. I awoke as a vampire, with just a bare inkling of what I was, then had a number of things explained to me. Then, curiosity about who I was and what I was sated, for now, my mind turned to other things.

Why did Charlotte make me?

I think I didn't ask her then partly because I figured, for some reason, that it was rude to ask. I had just been saved from sure death, and I also thought that it would show a form of ingratitude, I guess. I was also a little shy to ask the question, I think, and perhaps more than a little afraid to actually know the answer.

In retrospect, I think I should have asked; perhaps I will ask her yet about her thoughts on the matter. It may seem odd that I would even bother to ask: I am telepathic, as she is, and have recently gained the actual ability to look into another's memories. But I think just looking for myself seems rude as well, and I don't need the answer that desperately, I am not so afraid to ask it, that I would dare such rudeness towards my own sire.

So what I have done, as I have done with other such questions is: I have sat back and observed, I have gathered data, I have listened. And I have done thought experiments, and sought out answers inside myself as well. Though, personally, I have not had the urge or need to sire; perhaps I never will. Though, for our kind, perhaps never is too long. Perhaps I can say that I do not understand it, because I have never desired it.

I've recently had cause to return to these questions, after having met the childe of another of my bloodline, and heard that another of our family has also had a new childe. Both seemed proud of having done so, and the others greeted the new vampires warmly. Admittedly not one would easily expect of our kind, but then, as I have said, there have been a lot of wrong assumptions about our kind to begin with.

I am tempted to ask both Peter and Lorde about why they have sired, and why they chose who they did. I am even tempted to ask Keara why she had sired others in the past. Again, I am unsure if the question is rude, and I don't dare look into their minds to see their pasts just to get my answers.

I suspect that it is at least partly instinct to create more vampires. Even though we aren't technically part of the "natural" world, and we do a great many things differently, we still also do many things the same. We do not have young the way normal biological creatures would, and yet I have seen a great amount of nurturing, at least among my bloodline. So it is possible that we still carry the instinct mortal creatures have to reproduce.

I suspect that each vampire has their own reasons for siring, though I also suspect that there are some common threads. As thinking creatures with at least the illusion of free will - perhaps I will write about this in the future - we make choices and act upon them, each choice uniquely personal. So I suspect some prefer only males, some only females, perhaps some prefer those of certain educational standing, and so on. It does seem that most prefer only the beautiful; I don't dare really number myself among them, but I will admit, with some pride, that I am not bad to look at. So perhaps that's one common thread.

So, while perhaps there is an instinctual desire to create more vampires, it does seem to take a secondary role to actively choosing a new childe. Unless the choice of the sire is subconsciously affected by this instinct; but I'm already touching on my thoughts about free will being an illusion, and I will save that for another night when I have made my own thoughts on the matter more clear.

I wonder how to make experiments about this, however. It does seem that I will eventually have to speak to some of my blood to get answers. Perhaps I will have to see just how badly I want my answers, and if it's enough to overcome my hesitation and general shyness on the matter.

WITHOUT LEAVING BEHIND what I was writing and thinking about about earlier, something got me to thinking about vampire biology again. I'd touched on this idea sometime in the past, but tonight the topic just caught me and I couldn't resist looking deeper into it. I'm not sure what it was exactly, but one moment I was just lying down relaxing my mind, and the next I was charging along like some fanatic, running my mind through the Web and CrowNet as fast and as far as I could to find what I wanted and needed.

The main thing I was thinking about is: just how much have vampires changed from being human? Obviously the most important change is that we are no longer technically alive. But by what mechanism are we kept from death? I could technically just accept it as some magical, paranormal phenomenon, but then where would the fun be in that. So instead, I started wondering at the possibilities of chemical and biological possibilities for the vampire phenomenon. How do vampires work?

I started with medical science and human biology, which I figured wasn't a bad place to start, since we were all human in the past, after all. But I had no illusions that it would strictly apply; as much as we are similar, I know that we are very different. I mean, what other creature in the world would be able to restore itself exactly the way it was no scarring or any of the sort. I mean, even my dyed hair grew back dyed.

Anyway. From there I looked into physiology, chemistry, psychology... Admittedly, some of the materials were only tangentially related to my original thought. But, basically, I was able to amass quite a bit, and there is a lot of material to go through. It even feels like a lot of it has actually shot over my head. But thankfully I have been able to keep a log of everything that I've read through, so that I can go through it again, probably slower this time, with the purpose of actually learning something new. For tonight, I just looked through everything I could, quite a bit faster than I'd even done in the past.

The feeling as I was doing my research was exhilarating, as odd as that sounds. And it feels the same knowing that I have all this available material practically at my fingertips. I know it sounds really nerdy and geeky, but then I do have to admit that both those words could easily describe me, ouroboros tattoos and vampire fangs notwithstanding. But I just couldn't stop myself from looking for more and more materials related to my current inquiry. I even ended up diving deep into the system of some research facility - I'm sure I'll remember the name later on, this excitement seems to have put so much information in my head that it's all still a little cloudy and confused - to read a classified research paper. I think it was one of those facilities that get data on the "infected" within our Quarantine Zone.

They're undead, we're undead. I was thinking maybe there's some correlation there, some similarities between their state and ours. And some way that the actual scientists analyzing them can make sense of them - and perhaps, us - from the point of view of clear, logical, science. Or maybe I'll find that they actually know nothing and are just really good at saying just that with so many words.

But I'll have to go through all of that material again later; like I said, seems most of it, as smart as I think I am, shot over my head. Not my field of study, after all. But I'm confident I will start to understand it once I've actually calmed down and started actually trying to understand it, and not just devouring the data like some hungry cyber-shark virus.

Oh, and if I remember correctly, I think I dumped a few viruses in some other research facilities that should inform me if anything interesting and related to this field of research turns up. Hopefully, those things will stay hidden for quite a long time; I do believe I am quite good at cyber-stealth, and those critters are pretty smart, as viruses go. I give them maybe a week, a month if I'm lucky. I have to remember to check on them in a week or so. Or maybe I'll check tomorrow night. Let's see.

Hopefully I've calmed down more by tomorrow night; I'll take the day to rest on it, maybe absorb some of it a little subconsciously, then I'll try to sort through everything I've managed to find and pick up. Classify things, trash things that sound odd, or at least put them in a different section... I'll figure it out.

I would probably prefer to have someone who has actually done research on the vampiric condition; I wonder if there were/are any vampire scientists? I'll try to ask the others if they know anybody.

I think it would be more than awesome to find someone like that, to actually talk to someone like that. Fingers crossed!

IT'S MORE THAN POSSIBLE that I've actually buried myself in all my enthusiasm. With a virtual Everest of data that I only roughly sorted, I'm looking at possibly hours of work just sorting through all of this, with likely hundreds or even thousands of hours just to be able to understand it all. This, after my manic energy of last night, seems like a near-impossible task, something that I may have to admit I can't do myself.

I realized this as soon as I rose this evening, and then spent the next two hours procrastinating, rationalizing it away as trying to figure out how to start. In the bargain, I did come up with several ideas, not about how to proceed, but about what else I would need to actually complete this insane endeavor.

First thing I figured is that I'll likely need to talk to somebody about the different vampire "Paths" that exist, as these, as I understand, are the main ways we are different from each other. Basically vampires of the same Path are more similar to each other than to vampires from other Paths, so likely there will also be physiological similarities between them. I'll need to list common traits between Path members, and then things that are common to all vampires - top of that list, of course is we're all dead, and we all need blood.

The next thing I realized is that I'll actually need a specialist. It was among my thoughts last night, but more as someone I might need. But tonight I'll have to admit that, short of becoming a specialist myself, I do need someone who is a specialist now. Of course, if one doesn't exist, I am willing to entertain the possibility of learning it all myself; it's not beyond my mental and physical capabilities, after all. I think my vampire mind can handle the learning aspect easy enough, and I do have all the time I need, short of anything cataclysmic happening.

There were a few other minor things, but I eventually had to admit that I was no longer productively procrastinating, and was now simply wasting time. So I just had to dive into the mountain.

It helps that I am a little obsessive; for example, I'm planning to go through my previous journal entries one night so that I can classify them by topic, and tag them appropriately, so that it's easier for me to go through them if eventually I need to do so. In other things, I'm not so obsessive, however, leaving clothes and gear all over my tiny apartment when I'm too lazy to fix up.

But anyway, I decided to do something similar to what I had planned for my journals: tag them by topic, then rate them by importance on how close they are in relation to understanding vampire physiology and para-biology. Minor things with only passing relevance, added in almost on a whim are rated 1. Things I realize aren't relevant at all are rated 0, and re-filed elsewhere. Medical journals, articles on new viruses and biological analyses on unknown or new species are rated 7 to 8. 9 and 10 would be direct studies on vampires; I have none of those, and if one of those would suddenly appear among my files I would be both grateful and quite paranoid about it.

Right before I started, I decided I would take quick breaks every hour or so, to stretch my legs and actually rest my mind. It may seems strange, since we don't feel fatigue the same way humans do, but we do feel tired sometimes it seems. But then, that's one of the things my study, my research, looks to answer.

I started out strong, browsing through each article, this time with a greater attempt at some understanding, and then classifying and rating them. I didn't finish most of them, getting just the basic idea, then filing them and moving on. I almost can't imagine how I did what I did last night, actually, now that I think of it. Really, it was almost like something possessed me to do what I did, and really pushed me like a maniac.

Then again, manic enthusiasm can lend one greater abilities than what they first thought, and apparently it works with me, and possibly all vampires, as well. Or maybe it has something to do with how hungry I was when I rose; perhaps my blood thinned because I used up so much energy? It's a possibility; again, something this should answer.

And that's another thing I decided to do: I started to make a list of the questions I had to make sure to answer. I'm pretty sure that list will be quite long before I'm done.

Ah well, back to work; this was my third break. I'll likely have another three before morning comes, and it looks like I'll have to spend at least some of tomorrow night on this again.

TWO NIGHTS AGO, I thought I would be done by now. I was a little tired then, but I could still see the end in sight, and I could still feel the passion I first had for this project when I started gathering all the files and research that I could.

Two nights before that, I thought I would take only three nights, at the most, to go through everything. Three nights to read, sort, tag and classify each article, each file, each bit of research.

Three nights. It's been five nights now. I'm tired, frustrated, and annoyed at myself that I'm still not done. I can only remember a little of how passionate I had first felt when I started, and it's about the only thing keeping me together and working.

I'm only about halfway through, and I'm resisting the urge to start over and change my labeling method, and make sure that everything was tagged correctly. I'm resisting the urge to put it all aside or even throw it all away, concede to a bad idea and move on.

Either thought was so exhausting to even have, that I've simply just had to stop and think about it for a while.

There is too much material here, there is far more than I expected, far more than I remember. It's almost like somebody added more things when I slept, or that I sleep-hacked into some places for more materials. Can I even do that? Hack in my sleep even when I have no idea what I'm doing? I never imagined so, but that's one way to explain why I'm not done yet.

It's also quite impossible that anyone would even know where I kept all these materials, where I keep my secure server. How would anyone even know I'm working on this, that I even gathered anything, and what I was doing? And why would then even bother to hack into my secure storage to add more things, without at least bothering to tell me? It's just paranoia to even think anybody had added anything.

I think that my real problem is that I'm suddenly feeling quite the perfectionist. The last time I made a mistake, I started over. The time before that, I started over as well. I'm trying hard not to fall for it a third time, while also trying hard to not just quit on it and abandon the whole thing.

It's not a good idea to start over again. Not a good idea if I want to complete this at all. Not a good idea to have if I want to keep my enthusiasm for this pet project of mine. Not a good idea to do to keep myself sane.

So I decided to take a step back, stretch my legs and relax my mind. I've been working so hard, I'm even feeling what seems to be cramps in my gut. Did I forget to feed? I should remember to do so later. Or maybe I should go now? It'll help to relax me, going through a hunt. Or even the rote of heading for one of our black market suppliers and tearing into a prepared blood pack.

Yes, it's starting to get more and more appealing the more I think about it. Humans become irritable when they're hungry. Maybe we do as well. Yes, that makes sense. I should go feed, come back to this later on, maybe it'll make more sense and I won't throw all the work I've done so far out.

And I won't be paranoid about someone hacking into my secure storage and adding more materials for me to go through.

I THINK I MUST HAVE sunk into some sort of coma a few days ago, something I didn't think was possible. But aside from that, or losing pieces of my memory again, I have no explanation as to why I don't remember what I've been doing the past few nights.

The last thing I remember was pushing myself to complete the categorization of the data I accumulated, making sure that I didn't start over again, while also making sure that I don't just go ahead and quit. I think I was successful enough in that; I did finish it, I think, at least it looks pretty much finished.

While it's also possible that I've only lost track of time, the time and date stamps - handy things those - on the last log files I created, show that I made them three days ago. And all the data in the logs shows that I did finish, and that the dates and times are accurate.

So, unless there's some super hacker telepath playing with my files and my head, I've been asleep all day for three days. Wow.

I guess it's possible, though I could ask Keara and the others if it really is. I've read some fiction that says we vampires can sleep for years and even centuries - I like the stuff that lady did with the Frenchman vampire - so maybe fiction mirrors truth in that case.

Not that there's anything bad about taking a few days off - and it does make sense, since I awoke quite hungry tonight. I may even need a few more pints than I normally do. Maybe all the effort it took me to steal, find, seek out and categorize all that information really took a toll, and I just needed the short break to get my mind in a good, restful state.

I can accept that explanation for now.

Anyway, now what? I have the data, though not the expertise. I do have years and centuries ahead of me, so I could, technically, take the time to gain that expertise. That's almost appealing, though I wonder if we vampires do have an upper limit for learning and memory. Our brains are finite, after all.

Then again, that's one of the answers I'm looking to find, now, aren't I? The limits of the vampiric condition.

So I suppose I should go out and find myself an expert or three, maybe learn a thing or two. Again, something I should ask the others. Heck, for all I know, maybe one of the vampires I've been introduced to among my Vedarian family already knows much of this, and I've wasted a week and more of my life.

Not that I'm really counting; I have many more nights where those came from, assuming I don't meet an unexpected and unwanted end. Gives me shivers a little bit thinking about it, so I guess I'll just think on other things.

For example, where did I put that shirt I bought the other day? I swear I was wearing it when the sun came up three days ago.

I should go take a walk. Maybe there are just a few cobwebs in the belfry, so to speak. Besides, I am quite hungry.