Dead and Wanted
At the age of sixteen I was a wanted man. By the age of eighteen I was arrested and thrown in jail to rot to death. On the day of my trial, a month before my nineteenth birthday I escaped and ran. Yet again I was on the run and became a wanted man for murder after murder each one in the first degree. This was my life as a teen, that was foretold in my childhood, and led me on this dark lonely path.
My name is Damien Closmen, life has always been filled with violence, hatred and blood. My father was always yelling at my mother and he had hit her at least once every night that he was home. Whenever he was near me I could distinct fully smell the beer and whiskey in his breath and on his clothes. My father could also never talk right for he almost always slurred his words. My mother every night would go to bed crying her eyes out. I always felt sorry and said for mother but as I got older I would never admit it till now.
A night when it was time for bed neither of my parents would tuck me in or read me a story like other parents did. My father was either too busy drinking, yelling at my mother, or he wasn't home. My mother was either getting beat by my father or weeping until she would get sick. Every night I still fell asleep, but every night I would cry in my sleep. Nightmares of my father chasing me down our street and shouting at me a "You worthless kid." haunted me. Everything changed when I turned twelve.
As many doctors say alcoholism runs in families and I have to admit it does hold some truth to it. I had just got off the bus and noticed no one was home. So I went inside as always and turned on the television. There was a commercial on I went to change the channel and noticed that the commercial was for beer. I put the remote down and thought "Hey isn't that the beer that pa drinks.". I became curious and finally gave in so I got up grabbed a beer and sat down and drank it. The next thing I know is that someone came home. I must have fell asleep and realized I still had the beer in my hand. I panicked that's when father walked into the living room. I could smell the whiskey on his close, I was afraid. My father was a big man both tall and wide not someone you would want to mess with. He looked down at me and his face turned boiling red hot. I started to shake and stutter to try and explain myself. He had reached his hand and grasped my throat. I squirmed like a fish and tried to loosen his grip, but the more I fought the tighter his grip became. He threw me on the ground and kicked me in my gut and knocked the breath out of me. He starred for a long while as I struggled then shout "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW.". As I struggled up and started for the door father just stared.
I ran with all my strength to the woods a little ways down the road. I stumbled through the woods and sat on a rock near a small stream that ran through the woods. As the pain started to leave anger and hate took its place. I was frightened by this feeling but at the same time I loved it. As I looked down into the stream and saw a fish. I was so angry that I reached down took the fish out of the water and watched it die. But the bad thing is that I enjoyed the pain that the fish had it made me smile.
For the next few weeks I trained out in the woods to improve my fighting abilities so that I could fight back against my father. At school I fought kids, I provoked them to fight, and I one all of them with a few scratches. As I continued to fight my body became tolerant to pain. And I became the "Vamp" because the taste of my fighters blood tasted so good, it was my signature to get the blood of my victim in my mouth.
When I finally returned I got a gracious welcome. I was about fourteen and the two years in the woods help me learn to depend on myself and build up my strength. My hair was longer and I looked a little trashy.
When I walked in Ma was happy to see me when she noticed it was me. She wept with joy at my sight. My pa on the other hand looked at me and snarled. "Dear be happy our son has returned." my mother wept. "that is not my son, for my son is a wimp and should be removed from Earth." my pa said. "Charles (my pa) this is our son do not talk like that about him." scolded my ma. "You don't know what you are talking about dear." my pa said as he picked my ma up and through her to the other side of the room.
This action spiked my answer and I screamed at him " You asshole you are the on who should be dead." My pa stared at me stunned and then lashed out at me with his fist. I put my hand out and grabbed his fist to divert it from my head. He was astonished by this move. He picked his leg up and tried to use his body wait to thrust his knee into my gut. I slid toward the right taking his fist (which I still had with me) with me and heard it snap. I released his arm when I heard my pa scream in pain and fear. I reached to his left pocket removed his switch blade and ran it through his flesh.
My ma screamed in horror but I had drowned her out to listen to the tearing of the flesh. It sounded of paper being cut. As I cut through the weak flesh of the neck the sensation of blood came to me. The intense smell of it and the warmth running over my hand. I released the body and let it fall. It sounded as a text book thrown to the floor. I placed the switch blade to my tongue and licked the warm red blood. It was like a rare wine to my body and I had to have more.
I looked at my ma "Sorry ma.". I think she knew what was about to happen but she was to stilled by fear to move. I rushed at her and stabbed her in the heart, she breathed harshly and sounded that of an annoying squawk of a bird. My ma fell more vigilantly then my pa. I removed the blade and then licked it. It tasted so good I had to have more.
That was the beginning, from there on I killed for blood and pleasure. I was a most wanted by sixteen. I hid in the woods and killed when I found the perfect victim. But at eighteen I was captured and thrown in a cell to rot.
It was yet another kill. This victim was of long blond hair and blue eyes. I had just finished licking the blade when the cops came. I had tried to run but one shot my leg. I tried to continue for there was no pain but I became light headed. I had to rest so I allowed the cops to arrest me.
I was almost nineteen when I had the chance to escape from my hell hole. The police were transferring me to my final trial. There was a bridge between the jail and the court. When we crossed the bridge I killed the officer in the back with me and licked some of his blood. It ran chills through my blood and my body. I kicked the doors to the van open and jumped.
When I landed in the river below I swam ashore and took the paper clip that I embedded into my skin and picked the cuffs lock. From that I traveled through the woods and killed only when I was desperate and had a craving. Yet again the cops found me but it would be my last feed.
I had gone almost a month without blood and I needed it badly so I found a victim and quick. She was a luscious red head with deep navy blue eyes. She was alone on a path in the park near to dark. I pulled my blade and rushed at her. She screamed as I ran the blade through her neck. I withdrew my blade and went right to the neck for the blood. When the cops arrived they were surprised to see a large man like me leaning over a slender woman, sucking on her neck to taste the blood. One was so mortified without a second thought pulled the trigger of his gun. I was shot like a dog, quick and easy to the back of the head.
