Page 13 of Blood Lust

They want a show? Well, I’m not going to hold back.

Finnegan and Carter keep quiet, jotting down notes on their clipboards. Faces expressionless, and demeanor detached… do they consider me a sociopath? Or, full on psychopath? I’m a feral killer. I should see fear in their eyes instead of mild curiosity.

“So, no remorse for your actions, Mr. Parker?” Carter asks.

I don’t answer. It seems better, as my previous responses are slurred, and the lack of keenness is to my detriment.

“You’ve been in isolation for a few days now, and our goal remains to rehabilitate you,” says Finnegan. “Remorse is an important part of that process.”

Of course, I’m sorry. Mostly for Annie, but for her family as well, especially her mother. Annie always told me how close they both were. She once told me her mom didn’t like me very much, and now, I feel heartbroken that Annie hadn’t followed her own mom’s advice when she told her to stay away from me.

After my conviction, I wrote a note to my attorney to give to Annie’s mom, pleading for forgiveness and for her understanding that my intention was never to harm her daughter. It was too much to ask from her, but it was sincere, and I had to do it for the sake of my own sanity.

“Are you still biting yourself?” asks Finnegan.

I nod and make no effort to hide the scars on my arms.

“When was the last time you bit yourself?”

“Last night,” I mutter. “I prefer the nape of a woman’s neck, but my arm was just so appetizing and readily available.”

“Why do you harm yourself, Mr. Parker?” Carter asks.

“I’m not, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need blood. I’m addicted, I guess. I can’t get it from anyone else in here… might as well drink it from myself. It’s no different than masturbation.”

“I think the inmates here would all disagree with you,”Finnegan remarks.

“Why do you need blood?” Carter asks.

I fix him with a withering stare, certain he’ll never grasp the world as I do, and give him the answer he wants. “I like the way it tastes. It calms me.”

Finnegan takes a closer look at the scars on my arms and the two scabs near my elbow that always have a hard time healing.

“You don’t consider biting yourself harmful, but doesn’t it hurt when you bite your arms over and over again?”

“When I first began, it did. Most of the nerves near my puncture wounds are all dead now, I suppose.”

I notice Dr. Carter’s upper lip twitches slightly in disgust. She hasn’t completely been desensitized from working in this place.

“How do you see yourself?” Finnegan asks.

“Besides the sexiest vampire of all time?” I flash her a toothy grin.

“How do you identify yourself as compared to your peers? You do understand that sucking your own blood until you turn pale or pass out isn’t a very common thing to do.”

“I’m not like you or Dr. Carter.”

“Yes, of course, but—”

“I’m a vampire. See my fangs? I love blood. It’s just who I am. It’s how I roll, as the kids say these days.”

Finnegan and Carter lower their eyes onto their clipboards again and scribble more notes.

“I’m sure you find the isolation you’re currently in discomforting,” says Finnegan. “Your cooperation and participation in desiring to become well again can change that.”

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