I try to look around, but I'm only met with darkness. The cold stares at me with enough resilience to make a shiver go down my spine. The sound of nothing is tossed back and forth in my ear drums. It's the worst thing a guy could possibly hear.

I stumble onto my feet and cough out some wasted blood against the wall. Man, I think those guys broke my nose. Should I try to pop it back into place? What else did they do? They beat me up, knocked me out, and called me a coward just because I didn't give them a stupid gun. I want to live too, you know? Not that I can die; I just don't like pain.

I feel around the room for a light switch or something. I fail at this task, but luckily, I find a door handle instead. It's slightly cool and metallic like, and surprisingly, not locked.

Oh, ho, ho... Those bastards are really gonna get it. I tried to keep my chill with them earlier, but now they forced me to get out the fangs. One for taking my stuff, and the other for knocking me out. Plus, they left me in a maggot infested wasteland of a room. I swear if I have Ebola or something...

I open the door in a quick motion and locate the target in my peripheral vision. That one, the one with jet black hair and sly eyes, was the one that set me up. He was the one that tricked me into thinking I was getting a free ride. He was almost a friend. Next time, I won't trust some idiot that comes up to me asking if I need a ride.

My head snaps in his direction as I bolt towards him. He turns to look at me and tries to get out of the way. I get one glimpse of the fear on his face and I give a sly smile. His eyes widen in disbelief and confusion. I grab his shoulder and head to expose his neck. Before he can protest, I bite down as hard as I possibly can, just so that he can experience as much pain as possible. The flavor in my mouth can't be beat by anything else. It almost puts you in a trance. Of course, it's always broken by the victim's screams and attempts to get away, but after a while, they give up and you're left to dwell on your own accord.

The sound of a door opening starts to echo my way. It's so quiet I can hear the hinges creaking and the knob hitting the wall. Then I sense metallic footsteps, but in confidence, I ignore them. Just two more seconds of this is completely worth it. I can always deal with them later, anyway.

"Are you infected?" I hear a rowdy redneck guy shout from a reasonable distance. His over exaggerated gasp ticks me off even more since his breath can already be heard through the dead silence that now lives in this room. I can almost smell his pretension slowly leaving his bones.

I roughy pull my head away from the black haired guy and push him to the ground. He goes limp and his eyes almost pop out of his skull when his head falls on the rusty chainsaw on the floor. I look away as the blood starts to crawl out from his cranium.

"No," I mutter, "it's worse than that." I wipe a streak of dripping blood from my lip with my sleeve and send a bloodshot stare to the redneck. His orange mustache and beard crowd his emotionless face and move around as his expression changes. In fear, he stands completely still and allows the rifle he was holding to get pulled out of his hand by gravity.

He quivers and starts to say, "I-I won't tell anyone if you-"

"Shut up," I demand, "I hate it when people talk to me." I roll my eyes at him and pick up a throwing knife from the table beside me. It's easy to spot, as the rest of the scene is brown and rusty. I hope that southern hillbilly knows what's coming. He's an idiot for not taking a shot at me. If I was a zombie, he would already be dead.

"Where'd you put my gun?" I ask, taking a couple steps towards him. I give a "friendly" smile and await a reply. His eyes dart around for a moment or two as he looks at the tables and the exit next to him. I can tell he's thinking about running, and I can't have someone going around telling people that they just saw a vampire. Sure, they would think he's crazy and probably kill him, but then they would come here to prove him wrong.

"It's on the table! Right there!" the redneck shouts as he points to the other corner of the room. He quickly puts his hand back up and shakes his head before he looks at the safe haven again.

"Thanks for being a good sport," I say while he starts to back up. I stop in my tracks and raise the knife over my shoulder. Without a second to spare, I jolt my arm forward and let the blade slip from my fingers, twisting a turning in mid air. It stops when it soars into the yokel's eye and becomes contaminated with his cardio-lacking blood.

"Bullseye..." I mumble to myself as his body falls backwards onto the ground. Sadly, it doesn't hit anything like the other guy, but it's still amusing to see the life sucked out of his face. I think I'll skip out on his blood though. I don't want his stupid to wear off on me.

I walk around the room and look for my gun. On the way, I see boxes of ammo, pistols, knifes, and a duffel bag. Might as well take what I can, right? It's not like there's anyone else here that needs them. I take the duffel bag and fill it with as many items as possible. I can fit maybe seven guns and some ammo. I'll keep the knifes and one gun on my person. Of course, it'll be my gun. I just have to find it.

I walk around some more and try to spot my Kalashnikov. It's the best gun compared to the shit these guys have, so I can't leave without it. I took it from my dad's office right before I left. He said it was the best gun in the house. I haven't used it yet, but I've watched enough movies and played enough video games that show off this amazing piece of steel to know it's pretty badass.

I finally see the tiniest hint of dark metal underneath a table. Easing up to it, I see the grip and then the barrel of my gun. Bingo! I wonder why those guys left it under the table, though.

I start to pull it out, but it feels like something else it latched onto it. I lean down to look under the table and see that a human hand is holding onto the barrel. It's fingernails are dirty and it's all bloody too. Luckily, the hand is detached from the rest of the body, so I pull it off. Gross...

I find the exit and get out as fast as I can. When the sun hits my face, I stumble backwards. Dammit... They took my hat too. This is going to be a long and painful journey. The last time I even saw the tiniest bit of sunlight was right after I turned. I was a young vampire, stupid and careless, so I didn't listen to my fathers warning.

He told me, "Son, vampires can't go out in the sunlight."

I replied with, "Why? Is it because we're already smoking hot?" I remember laughing right before I received a blow to the head. My dad's gun was the best in the house, after all.

I put my hand on my forehead to shield my eyes and start to run down the block. I'm guessing I'm in New York. There are huge buildings on both sides of me and they seem to go on forever. I was heading here anyway, so I won't protest, but I don't know how long I was out. It doesn't matter too much anyway, but I would like to know. That way, I could predict what the population is like right now.

To be honest, zombies kinda freak me out. Don't get me wrong; they're cool and all, but I don't like how unpredictable they are. One moment, they're eating your best friend's leg, and the next, they're trying to rip your eye out. They have completely sporadic personalities.

I guess I should be fighting them, right? I should be saving those feeble humans from their horrendous fate, but something is stopping me. I like watching how hopeless everyone is. They all run around screaming and crying for help, but no one saves them. Humanity is slowly dropping and I'm just overseeing the process. I used to be human, so I should be slightly more sincere, but I find it funny. I would only agree to help if someone I cared about was in danger, and the last time I checked, I don't care about anyone.

Why not just lean back and watch the world fall to pieces? Well, I don't want to live in a world only filled with the supernatural, so I'll just watch for a little longer. After that, I'll try to show this judgmental world that vampires aren't all that mean and heartless. After all, it isn't our fault we're this way.

Pshhh... Yeah, it is.

When I reach Times Square, a blood clenching scream rings throughout the area. It sounds like a girl's scream. I really shouldn't help, but what if it's like, my soul mate?

That's stupid. I should just go.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Heart, stop beating right now. This is not in your best interest. Nothing good could come out of this. She's probably already dead. Plus, I don't socialize. I couldn't talk to her without making myself look like a complete idiot. Wait a minute... I'm a vampire. I can't have her find that out. She would freak, right?

I start to walk away from the intersection.

After two steps, I turn around and run in the direction of the scream.