Vampire for Life

Greetings,

Just to give your mind a view of my forsaken palace- These are pictures of it in it's current state, but I reside on floor 17 and have made it comfortable. Take note on what a beautiful building I have to develop my plans.

http://www.forgottendetroit.com/mcs/photos.html

With warm embrace,

Kenen Gaol

Greetings,

So I followed Justin last night without his knowledge. This cat is truly fucked up- which of course raises my opinion of him.

After I awoke and fed (this time on a homeless man that was hanging around my train depot), I found Justin drinking at an Irish bar downtown named Old Shillelagh. It’s near the new Comerica Park (where the Detroit Tiger’s play), but the area was empty since there were no baseball or football games in town. He was with one of the girls that joined the church- a girl who promised to devote herself to the church for sex & gratification.

Her name is Meagan Brawn, a girl with a tight body and huge rack. She’s an Office Administrator during the day, but it is a closet freak at night. With her all black ensemble, she was the essence of sexual mystery and desire. They sat at a table in the shadows drinking beer and doing an occasional shot. You could see how submissive she was of Justin, and how dominating he wanted to be of her.

After 30 minutes of watching, it was clear they were role-playing slave/master roles. They would be conversing, and he’d stop, say an order, and she would obey. The more they drank, the more daring they both became. This is when he told her to masturbate at the table. Her face turned a bit pale after he spoke to her, but a slow smile crept up on her face. The shadows of sitting in the corner acted as imaginary shower curtain for her as she spread her legs apart and rubbed herself.

Justin stared directly in her eyes.

A few men at the bar nudged their drunken buddies and lifted their pints in her direction. Fully aware that her veil was uncovered, she tactfully stopped and took a sip of her drink. Immediately Justin said softly and firmly, “I said to orgasm. Do not disobey me.” Meagan downed a shot and nodded. Obviously, this is what he wants.

She once again parted her legs and used her 3 middle fingertips to work herself up. After she was sufficiently aroused, she closed her hand into a fist and began rotating her knuckles across her clit. Again, the men at the bar had their eyes glued on her, and so did I. A deafening silence was on the lower half of the bar except for an occasional moan from the girl with short black skirt, black tights, big boots, and strappy top in the corner. She slid her ass out to the edge of the old wooden chair and leaned her head on the wall behind her. Her hand was moving amazingly fast and her hair fell in her face and stuck to her dark lipstick while she bit her lip.

Justin stared through her strands of hair directly in her eyes.

Then it happened, with such volume that some people had to turn their head to the side. For about 30 seconds, only Meagan could be heard. After that, the bar erupted in cheers and more orders from horny men for rounds of brew. Meagan’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Her arms draped down lifeless to her sides. She smiled at Justin in thankfulness. Justin nodded and told her to visit 2 different people (a man and a woman) from the church tonight, gave her a $100.00 to pay for the drinks and a cab for her, then walked out of the bar.

While the night was still young, it surprised me that he went directly home. No more debauchery or lasciviousness. No more women to enlighten. He walked to his car, a beautiful BMW, and drove to his house in West Bloomfield. This guy has good taste. His home was a newer house that was well taken care of. He parked his car in the driveway and walked in the front door. I hung around his house for a few minutes to see if he was going back out or not, but he had other plans.

His garage lit up, and I peered through a window in the back where the blinds did not fully close. It was no wonder he didn’t park in his garage. From his ceiling hung chains, hooks, slings, and such devices. Black candles decorated his walls perfectly. A comforting glow emitted from the room to my eyes. He walked the circumference of the garage 5 times very slowly with his eyes closed- obviously meditating. He removed his shirt, and I saw amazing tattoos and scarring. He stood in the center of the room, staring at a full length mirror at himself. He wore fitted black slacks with no shirt on. The image reminded me of Edward Norton in American History X. His small but cut frame was decorated with the marks of his unique meditation. With his left hand, he grabbed a set of chains and lowered them from a pulley system above. He then stood on an old chest on the floor…

The next thing I knew, he was free hanging by his skin. Blood trickled from his chest down his ribcage to his lower back. The hooks that held him up acted as a priest would to a god. His mediator between god and man. It was amazing to see a mortal’s skin stretch and pull without screams of agony or pain. He did all of his by himself. No one to share it with. No one to impress. It was a solitary spiritual act for him.

I smiled and licked my lips. It was then, I decided Justin to by the first vampire in my flock. Perhaps tomorrow I will arrange plans for the crossover during the Sunday service.

With warm embrace,

Kenen Gaol

Greetings,

I woke tonight and proceeded with my typical routine of feeding. There was nothing special- just the typical lure, bite, feed method. After I was satisfied, I decided to seriously look for worthy people of my flock to join me in immortality. My desire to lead a pack of vampires grows daily.

The first thing I must do is define the roles of the people in my pack. I must keep my church strong- actually even stronger since it will be supporting more immortals. To do so, my first need would be to find one who it business savvy, witty, and intelligent.

Justin Darren, my lead money keeper always proved honest and worthy. He just completed his Masters of Business at the University of Michigan, and was already in a high position at Lear (an automotive supplier). At the age of 25, he was the youngest employee at his level of authority in the company. When he talks, his words make sense and his voice issues confidence. He is not arrogant or demanding, but logical and social. His business skills not only stand out to me by his position at Lear, but how he contributes to my church. Constantly he provides solutions with logistics, time management, and cost reductions.

He has already killed for me the night of his initiation… even if it was unconventional. At the time, I viewed it as creative. Typically, the two circle around and engage in hand to hand fighting looking for an opportunity to stab. With Justin (who obviously practiced), he immediately threw his dagger almost before I finished my shout of BEGIN. The other fellow, too slow and surprised, caught the sharp blade in the throat and dropped backwards while gurgling on his blood.

This murder truly shows how his mind works. He is not a strong or intimidating man, but he is cunning. This week I will shadow him, talk with him, and pick his mind on his goals. He already worships me wholeheartedly, and it will be exciting to immortalize him as the result of perfect worship. A true example to the church of selfless worship.

With warm embrace,

Kenen Gaol

Greetings,

When I woke this evening, all I wanted to do is shed blood. There is something appealing about fear… it smells so sweet. Immediately, I flew straight from my palace of graffiti to where the local hookers solicit. Within minutes I was approached by a abnormally thin, black lady. She must have weighed less than 100 lbs, so I made sure she brought her other friend with her. We agreed to meet half a block away in one of the countless abandoned buildings downtown.

What I am about to tell you should be disturbing to mortals, yet it is a joy to the undead. Pain and torture, cries of agony, fear and helplessness give me satisfaction when placed on my subjects.

We met in the crumbling building. The walls were spray painted with symbols and phrases, as they typically are, and only half of the roof remained intact. In the corner was an old twin mattress, perhaps from a bunk-bed at one point. It was obvious that someone sleeps here, or did at one point. The thin black lady knelt down on the grimy mattress as her friend, a used up white broad, did her best to walk towards me seductively. As she brought her head towards mine, I smiled so large that she stopped her movement. Immediately, I struck her in the throat with my closed hand and dropped her to the floor. The black slut shot up from the mattress, but was not able to get further than that. I reached out with both hands and grabber her by the neck and lifted her from the ground.

She kicked and kicked…

Her malnutrition and fear eventually got the best of her, and in less that 10 minutes she was held in my arms docile. By this time, the white whore started to regain consciousness. With my left arm, I tucked the 80lbs black slut to my hip and grabbed the left wrist of the white whore. In haste, I bit off the ring finger where the main artery flows through. I kept her wrist in my dead grip while she writhed around on the floor in pain.

Blood from her open wound showered us with each heartbeat. It was a fucking 4th of July celebration in there. I then tore off her filthy clothes with 1 swipe of my razor nails and let go of her wrist. By this time, she’s clearly traumatized, and had no ability to escape. She backed herself up against the wall and tried to put pressure on her severed finger. Her hair was drenched with her own blood, and her skin was stained in red. Her big fake breasts heaved up and down as small rivers of blood ran down her valley onto her stomach and pooled there.

At this point I dropped the small black slut to the ground. She didn’t even try to stand back up. I commanded her to undress- and she did. I commanded her to drink the white whore’s blood from her stomach. She started to cry even harder at this point. In fury, I grabbed her hair and pulled her in front of the white whore who was leaning against the wall naked with her legs spread open. The black slut slowly stuck her tongue out and lowered the tip of it into the pool of blood. She licked her lips in distain. I told her not to stop until she licked it dry. Meanwhile, I was fucking her from behind while she knelt, and I didn’t stop until she finished her meal.

Bored with the drama, I bit into the black slut and drank her blood. I could taste the alcohol and drugs she had in her system, and wonder if she would have even remembered this the next day had she lived. When I was about finished with her, the white whore desperately tried to escape, but I caught her by the neck with 1 hand. I raised her up and cut her throat with my nails. A steady stream of blood flood down her chest and off her nipples. While holding her in the air, I put her breasts to my mouth and drank in her life that was flowing down while I began fucking her. After I peaked, I bit into her neck to drink the remaining blood from her body.

I tossed their remains in 2 separate bags, put the cash in baggies and stuffed it in their intestines. After I dropped off my meal remains to my hired crematorium, I got cleaned up to get started with my day. Not each entry will I elaborate on my feeding, but know that my instincts are now animal and cruel. To me, my feeding today was as a grand banquet laid out before me. Do not judge me by my foul acts since I am a slave to Hunger and Cruelty. For quick painless deaths, I tend to be nondiscriminatory, but for lustful feasts I excersize my authority over human life and rid the world of the “less fortunate”.

With warm embrace,
Kenen Gaol, a.k.a.- CV

Greetings,

It’s fact that the city struggles. Each year, the population empties into the suburbs in favor of newer construction, less crime, and a competent city government. It’s amazing to see the amount of abandoned buildings that function as cover for drug houses, prostitution rings, and homeless shelters. There is only one building in Detroit that is fit for my liking: The Michigan Central Train Station. Yes, the old Detroit Train Station. Abandoned in the late 80’s, I’ve had a successful stay. It’s funny to me that the public wonders why this old, once-beautiful abandoned building is still left standing.. or not even remodeled.

M.J. Moroun, one of my first members of my flock, started by offering large sums of money each week. I found this very interesting and immediately met with him to find out more. We met for dinner one night at the top of the Renaissance Center overlooking the skyline of the poor city. To my intrigue, he was not nervous meeting with me. He had a swagger of bold confidence and an unwilling compromise about him. At this time, I just started gathering my flock, and after seeing his obvious success as a businessman, I wanted to include him in it’s growth.

As we sat together overlooking the city, I shared with him my dream of creating an unholy church. An underground group dependant and fully successful on itself. This interested MJ greatly as we surveyed the skyline. I shared with him my desire to grow the poverty section of Detroit so I can act uninterrupted. He understood how important it was to create an atmosphere of fear and solitude.

To my surprise, he told me how successful he really was. I had not done my research on this fellow. Apparently his father started a freighting business, named CenTra, Inc., in the 1930’s and it became very successful. Upon his death, he doled out his stock to 3 of his children. His daughters each got 25% of the company, but MJ had much more. This is where it gets good. MJ ruthlessly fired his sisters and swindled the stock from them so they could never challenge him for control of the company. Oh, and his sisters would never be able to benefit from their father’s hard work.

I knew I liked this guy.

One of the buildings that was in his possession was the old Detroit Train Station. It’s really magnificent, even more so that it is huge, rundown and empty. He said he was debating whether to sell it or not and he had received repeated bad press about having it just sit there. He told me the building was mine to do with what I pleased. With the promise of never selling the building, he grinned and offered his hand.

I tell you this old story to state that I do not draw the poor, the weak, the crippled. Why would I lead a pack of degenerates? This is exactly, why I need to chose a company to invest in. I need to offer my flock more than just money, booze, sex, and a possibility of immortality. I will give them careers, futures, stability, and success! Tangible benefits to doing my service. Immediate results of longstanding prayers.

Ford Motor Company.

It’s an obvious choice. The corporation has deep roots within this community. They have the auto company, the football team, stadiums, museums, charities, work a great deal internationally, and have countless suppliers. In due time, I will be behind many happenings in this old city…

With warm embrace,
CV

Greetings,

Sunday’s are special times.

The Ceremony takes place each Sunday, and it allows me to flex my authority to my flock. They come. They witness. They worship. This Sunday was no exception as I flew to the stadium. 3 years ago the city abandoned an old baseball stadium and moved to a brand new one 2 miles away. Since then, the old building has been the center of controversy about what to do with it. With this indecision, I found it the perfect meeting location for my flock. Being that the location is in a rundown, crime-ridden part of town also helps my cause. Nobody watches the building. No traffic runs through the area. Nobody dares to come to the area at night.

As I fly over the stadium, I see a nice mixture of 500 people seated in the stadium. I hear laughter and common social chatter among them. As usual, my men are passing out beer and liquor to everyone. They love being around each other. Humans are social creatures, and especially so when they share a common bond. I land on the pitcher’s mound and transform.

All eyes are on me.

I draw my arms out and shout, “BEGIN!” Then 2 men drag over a kicking, kidnapped woman. She’s bound by ropes and clearly afraid of what is happening. My fangs drew out and my mouth watered as they approached me. My mind told the woman to look at me, and she did as she regained her composer. I reached over and cut the bindings on her hands with my sharp nails. She was still staring in my eyes when I leaned over to her ear and whispered, “Undress.” At this point, I was completely in her head. She smiled and seductively removed her clothes.

The crowd respectfully fell silent.

They knew what they were about to witness. An unholy act of an immortal to be seen by all. An evil sacrament of the undead. They stared in awe and realized how completely I controlled the woman as she began fucking me shamelessly. When I was done, I removed my mind from hers and she immediately started shrieking in fear. As she was sprinting towards a dugout, I leapt from 20 feet away and sank my teeth in her neck from behind. And it was good.

As I drank her blood, my flock drank their alcohol. When I was done, I dropped her naked body in a heap on the ground and spoke to them in a loud voice.

“You witness the source of my immortality. I am a vampire! Ageless and untouched. Worship me and I will grant you a better life. Lately, I thought the need to create a pack to lead. The most faithful, the most loyal, the most intelligent, I will choose among you. Only a few will be chosen, so keep the faith. Other members of my flock will continue to be provided for. I will make your dreams a reality. You will see me work in wonderful ways.”

“As we commence this evening, be reminded of your mortality. Let the fight BEGIN!”

One that word, 2 pre-determined volunteers proceeded towards each other in the center of the stadium. Each uncomfortably wielded a dagger. It was obvious that neither has killed another man before. Why do they do this, you ask? Initiation. Kill or be killed. Prove yourself to me by bloodshed, that shows your loyalty to me and the rest of the flock.

The men circle around each other as the crowd cheers for their respective favorite. This fight does not last long- they never do. The first man lunged forward in a sloppy stab and opened himself to be parried in the side. The second man, quickly took advantage of the mistake and sunk the knife fully into the lunging fellow. The dying man fell to the ground holding his side and breathing heavily. Thrilled from the stab, the second man grabbed the hair of the first man and retracted his dagger. In one quick stroke, his throat was sliced. Blood poured down his chest as he laid propped up on the killers legs.

The flock cheered in bloodlust.

I approached the man and embraced him. He was the victor, a strong and willing member of my church. As an immediate reward for his loyalty, it is my custom to let him choose 3 women of my harem for satisfaction. With a nod, my ladies rise from their seats and circle us. After he chooses, I invite the flock to join me on the field. It is our practice to end The Ceremony in full lust. For the next few hours, my flock indulges the flesh with sex and alcohol.

I flew to the top to witness the sinful sight and here their shouts of thanks to me, their savior.

After that, I collected the offerings from my collectors and listened to their reports. People are giving more and more. Of the 500, the average amount given is $200 each week. Ample amount to work with. Shortly, I will place faithful members in key positions in a corporation via bribery. The only question is what company…

With warm embrace,
CV

Greetings,

Again I awoke to another brisk night- a Friday night. Weekends are very profitable for me, and it is important for me to closely nurture my flock. But before business, I must feed.

Today I chose to prey on a man. My purpose was to strike two birds with one stone. Not only did this allow me to obey Hunger, but with one or two witnesses I am able to lead my flock by fear. Flock, yes. Let me see if these words sound familiar to you: Charity. Church. Giving. Offering. Nonprofit. How many dollars do all the churches bring in each year? Billions. How can they do this? Who do they worship? Have they seen him? NO!

Here's my opportunity. My church. I will be worshipped, and provide everything to man. Doctrine is simple- my 'goodness' is a direct relationship to the dollars given. Once you attain a high level, I will grant you immortality. Note- I doubt any will ever attain that level, but it provides them sufficient motivation and I supposed it's possible. Tomorrow, perhaps I will detail the weekly 'service'.

This man I killed today- he was in my flock. Faithful he seemed. He came weekly, respected and feared me, gave frequent large cash donations, and even brought in other faithful members. In return, I blessed him by giving him unlimited sex with a select few from my harem, and by giving him a weekly ration of drugs and alcohol. So faithful was this man that I made him the financial overseer of the northeastern district.

Deceitful mortal. Did he not think I would not find out? After cloaking over his shoulder one night, I witnessed him stealing the offerings from others. Not from me, from others. See, he would take that amount stolen, and donate it in his own name. While I created a corrupt religion, I instill honesty among the flock. We must be like minded.

While in the middle of receiving $1,000 from 2 newer members (less than a week), I appeared behind him and quickly quenched my thirst. Oh, you should have seen their eyes. Trembling with fear, they both dropped to their knees. I reassured them this man was corrupting my flock and encouraged them to remain faithful and true. Immediately, the man looked at his wife and nodded for her to remove her top, then reached in his wallet and pulled out $300 saying this was the only things he had left.

A true sacrifice. This pleased me.

I asked him if he had any requests of me. Without hesitation, he spouted, "Give me responsibilty, lord." A heartfelt request which showed his true desire to attain immortality. I tossed $2,000 and the dead man in his direction, told him to dispose of the body to 'the others' and then finish the rounds to collect the offerings. He will be my new collector for this area.

He smiled and nodded as I held his wife and flew away.

After an hour, his wife and myself were very satisfied. I brought her back to the house and waited for the man to finish his rounds. While waiting, the wife asked me a few interesting questions that are worth repeating.

Q: Why have sex with her if I have my own harem?
A: I was receiving the offerings of the man. Yes, I have 200 woman in the area dedicated to sex, but this was about the man's willing and generous sacrifice.

Q: Are there any other's like me?
A: I know of one only. The one before me became sloppy in her dealings with mortals, and I moved far away.

Q. Is it truely possible for her to attain immortality
A: I, too, was a mortal at one point. After earning the utmost favor of the one before me, she granted me immortality. Yes, it is possible.

After the questions, the man returned from collecting and delivering the body. He seemed tired, but satisfied. Eagerly he approached me with all the money in his hands. I reasurred him of his new position, and explained to him other aspects of it (like the record keeping and reporting at the service).

All in all, the night was productive. I traded 1 corrupt member for 2 faithful members. My flock is growing, and they worship me.

With warm embrace,
CV

Greetings,

It was a beautiful evening last night. The air is now crisp, and the moon seems to shine as bright as ever. There is nothing as refreshing as waking to an already dark night. The extra hours of darkness is as exciting as Christmas was to me as a child.

As funny as it sounds, I DO sleep in a coffin. Before I came in possession of it, I thought the idea to be “Hollywood”, but then my desire for one grew each night. My sleep on a bed, floor, or while hanging became merely a shallow rest. One night last week, it became so unbearable that I bucked my “anti-coffin” thoughts.

Progressions like that are becoming more frequent.

I sat up from my coffin and recognized my hunger. What a powerful drive it is. At times it feels as Hunger is my father. Training me in the nurture and admonition of the Devil. I find that for me to last satisfied, I must have the blood from around 100lbs of flesh. While only average looking, I seem to now have a unique charm with women, and I use this to my advantage.

After I awoke, I flew- yes, I can fly as a bat- to a dark corner in a popular section of town. This is a trendy, upscale area that is filled with high class, beautiful women. Women and men taste the same to me, but I prefer women. Strength has nothing to do with my preference. Honestly, when I have the choice of an intimate dinner, I’d prefer to stare at a beautiful woman than a man. It’s all about them being a good guest at my dinner table.

Once in the dark corner, I walk the streets alone. Dressed straight out of Esquire, my dashing apparel screams for attention from high class women. While I do have sexual desires, my appetite takes immediate priority. And I never mix food and fun- I take each too seriously.

As I walk by an Italian restaurant, I see a wide set of stair descent at the side of the building. Above the stairs is a small neon sign “Piano Bar”. I walk down the stair and into the small, smoky bar. Immediately, my eyes find a healthy full figured woman. She’s wearing slim, black slacks and a sleeveless, low cut top. It’s obvious that she’s shy as she watches her friend, a lively blond, throw herself at an older man.

I slowly walk to the bar and order 2 glasses of red wine. As I walked towards the woman, I wished that she would WANT me walk towards her. I want her to see me. I want her to get me in her mind. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, she looked up and directly in my eyes. I locked her gaze until she had the glass of wine in her soft hands. I waited until her throat swallowed the first sip –god that is a beautiful sight.

After tasting the wine, I had her talk to me. It’s strange how effective the power of suggestion is. My mind can prick the interest of those around me. She asks my name. I say nothing. She asks me livelihood. I say nothing. She smiles and takes another drink of her wine. After I see her throat swallow, I speak to her.

“I know what you want to hear. I know what you want to feel. And you know I am right.”

She looks at me wanting to believe it. As I gaze in her eyes, I see her gaining confidence in me. Her neck blotches red with excitement as I hold my hand out to her and lead her out of the bar. I don’t stop. Down the street, near the same dark corner I arrived. Once there, I pin her to the wall and take my first bite.

I can’t control myself. The feeling is so intense I want to be one with the warm blood. I pay no attention to the girl kicking and flailing her arms at my back. I hold her so close and tightly. I feel my head clear and my sanity is gaining control again. After a few short minutes, I pull myself from the females neck. Careful not to stain my suit, I perform my daily corpse cloaking.

Traditionally, vampires carelessly left their victims laying for dead. I’m not sure if I totally buy that. Above all the abilities granted to me, superior intelligence is the greatest. Perhaps they left them to prove a point that they exist, but I do not want a witch hunt on my ass.

The options for hiding a dead body are limitless. Being that I do this daily, it’s important to me to find the most effective method that takes the least amount of time. So what do I do? I hire people. The deblooded girl folded up nicely in one of the the plastic bags I kept in my pocket. The agreement I have with “the people” is I leave the bag and $2,000 cash hidden on the body. This time I chose to stuff the money in the woman’s bra. I think they get off on that. It’s also the agreement that the girl will be cremated. No traces.

After my feeding, I find various ways for amusement. Typically, I work on my businesses. It’s important that I have a high income. My habits are expensive to say the least.

Perhaps tomorrow, I’ll elaborate more on that.

With warm embrace,
CV

Greetings,

I would be considered a modern vampire. My body requires blood. It doesn't matter if I drink it from humans (most satisfying) or animals, but without blood I cannot survive. Consider this journal as an ongoing confession. I wish to track my behavior so I can understand and study myself. My guilty stage is long past, yet I still feel my body and mind evolving.

Within this journal, you will witness all of my horrors.

With warm embrace,
CV