CHAPTER 4
OBSESSIVE INTRUSIVE
I’ve been playing a virtual reality game where people can socialise, which is called Virtual Universe. It is just like real life, but virtually. If you mix the internet and reality, you get the Virtual Universe. Recently, Ren and her boyfriend, and other friends of ours had been hanging out. Ren had a terrible week recently, and somehow I knew how to make her day better, only if I am highly caffeinated.
Having myself usually depressed during a caffeine withdrawal, either that I am just easily irritated with anger issues. I have myself joking around friends, going crazy and shouting, but that was after I had my coffee.
You see, I work as a full-time author without any community nor an audience. Because of the cliche tropes we have nowadays, most readers around the world are not my type, and they are repetitive copy-pastes with no creativity with shitty grammar and they get paid to write it by huge companies in web fiction sites. All because it is an overrated trope, no matter how terrible your grammar is, no matter how many plot holes, as long as the setting is the same as any other “famous” books on their website is what they will promote.
These websites are scummy and scammy. They don’t care about your efforts, your creativity, or your passion. They hate new ideas, unique plots that no one ever thought of before, or anything actually good unlike those same old reincarnation genres or alpha werewolf CEO billionaire abusive kidnapping psychopathic boyfriend that is sadistic and uses women for pleasure and not love. I don’t get the point, why would anyone want someone like that. If the billionaire was just your average joe, it would turn into a Black Mirror Episode.
Having my good friends, the only ones that actually keep me going, somehow… I knew my premonition was right, but they keep denying it and comfort me about my future worries until it happens and sever their friendship from me. I’m usually a calm, charismatic, and appealing person with the best composure. But once people get to know me better, I slowly get out of my comfort zone and start acting like myself instead of being a people-pleaser. That I would act hyperactive, fun, and too outgoing to the point of mania and absolutely no self-control the more comfortable I feel with the good friends around me. Until the day they get fed up with me, or either that, it would be the opposite that they’d get fed up with my venting, such issues that they forced me to tell about to them, thinking they can help me, but I vent once, I can never stop because my first impression is my permanent personality towards that person.
I know how to read people. I observe from afar, read their body language, the way they behave and their words. I match the patterns into a musical sheet and dance to the rhythm once I walk up to them and talk to them. However, it usually either ends with friends that sever me off and hate me forever because they’re too uncomfortable once I finally feel like I belong to such a friendly family, or they’re the ones that are patient and understanding enough to let me stay with them but they leave the internet forever the earliest without telling me anything.
But sometimes, it’s because certain people who are friends from the former would make me leave to a new internet life with a new alternate account being that one friend on the latter.
I bet they’re talking about how fuckin’ annoying I was when I had a caffeine overdose. When caffeine is the only drug that helps better than Lexapro and Prozac combined at their highest dose, and those are not even the only meds I have, they’re for depression. Usually antidepressants are just one brand, but I got two, and much more others for other comorbidities.
Especially my obsessive behaviour on certain things that easily inspire me to write a book about, I never stop talking about it and it is something I cannot control, and they think I literally can just because they’re normal and I am not. That is like telling a blind man to see, and no, I am not ableist, because my comorbid mental illnesses are considered a disability. So, I have the right to compare my suicidal depression being told to man the fuck up and stop being sad, to telling a homeless man to just get a fuckin’ house!
They must be talking about how fuckin’ hyper I was and how annoying I became towards them, and plotting to either stop seeing me and avoiding me, or they would tell it to me right to my face so they don’t have to feel bad with the guilt in their hearts for ghosting me, with the self-righteous thought of “being not fake”. You’re just guilty! Any sociopath can just ignore people they hate, because they are not afraid to tell the truth, how ironic, isn’t it?
I knew this would happen, that friends will hate me right before I even start the first impression or speak up the first word from my mind outta my damned mouth! Still, my loneliness is extremely chronic and I can’t deal with being away from people. Otherwise I would go crazy! That is why I am here, online, not able to take a break from the toxic society we live in who hides their true intentions behind a screen.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
That is until… My master went online! Yet, he did not accept any of my invites yet. He must have probably known about me taking down the Vampire Council from last night and came online to congratulate me. It’s been the entire afternoon and the entire night for him since midnight to this morning for him, and night for me. That he hasn’t talked to me yet, not even changed his character appearance like he usually does with other people, and stuck in his home server without me in it. As soon as I came back after writing for a while, and waiting for too long, he went offline and never accepted any invites or requests for me to come into his world.
He usually does his weekly small visits until he is called for duty in the clan. Now I am here, just listening to GHOST with her Vocaloid songs in my playlist on repeat. Writing and writhing.
No clue what to do, I still deny the belief of Daddy Drac telling me that I was asleep for a hundred years, he’s the type to tell jokes to mock me.
I opened the spiritual portal where only creatures and spirits from the other side can see, projecting my astral body into the astral plane to travel across dimensions as my mundane body is unconscious but is auto-writing everything that is happening in my perception. I see the beginning and the end, and beyond between and either, through the infinity of the timespace of the cosmos, where karma is balanced between all universes and not just the earth. I travel into the world of darkness, and it is almost night here in Guagua, 5:35 PM. Sparked a cigarette in the same form as my mundane body, staying in physical form now at 5:42 PM.
I have so much to do here, since I’ve already done my job, I wanted to report back to the King, my master of course, and the people I’ve bred into more spawns of the devil, myself, the Prince of Darkness, which is an additional to my reports to him, I have nothing else to do but to reward myself and cut some slack for the hard work I’ve done recently.
It is about sunrise in New York right now. 5:44 AM for my master, and 5:44 PM for me. Since my vampire doppelganger that I control, only if I am unconscious in my mundane form, I can at least feel everything that my doppleganger does and feel into my own mundane form.
Quite an extraordinary feat, I must say. I’ve done this before, but I was in just an astral form, but I usually keep myself invisible to the eyes of mortals who know about me in this part of town to avoid suspicion of my nighttime activities. Usually, I can only do this by using an item I enchanted with so much creativity and my psychic abilities mixed together that created such, let’s say not so extraordinary novels but some of my whereabouts that took a wild turn.
The best thing about my doppelganger is that no matter how many this body dies, I can just reform it a new one from my own mundane self, but it could be a bit traumatising to feel my own death, over and over again, and it could cost a lot of my blood to make a new astral self that is physical in the material world of mankind.
The only way to kill me and stop reforming more new vampiric doubles of myself is to kill the host itself, which is the weak mundane host that is my main body. However, no one can easily figure out where I am, I am very isolated with the shittiest internet signal.
The fact that my house is covered around my pet bats that could turn into gargoyles could easily protect me, and since I am a prince, of course, I have a lot of connections that I could rely on. But usually I would just do everything myself instead of sacrificing more pawns, unlike the cowards of the political bloodsuckers that used to be the Vampire Council that forces everyone to do their dirty work to gain more power, promising this and that, even if they do, they only do it out of pity because of your efforts, so they will not be convinced to move to the other side of the war. But that was before, I’ve only learned these through visions and never experienced such.
My mundane body may be weak, and more fragile than a human, literally, but my vampiric doubles are where my sources of power are, but once they die, they come back to me, but at the price of my own blood in order to recreate them again.
So as a prince, I am that one piece that must be protected at all costs, having the rest of my doubles to be my pawns on the frontline to do all the work, while the rest of the vampires in our clan just do what they are told by other princes and I am here, doing my solo work to save time for the others. Not because I am generous, but also because I am flexible to my capabilities that I could do such things, so they can do the rest of the jobs they are assigned to do.
“The Vampire Council is gone, what happens now?” you may ask?
That’s a simple answer, we rebuild what the war destroyed. That is none of my concern now, I am only a prince of this country’s vampiric society. But the others hold grudges because of the people who were sacrificed during the cold war between clans, and there are plenty of other clans that work like organised factions that deal with their own problems, and their own wars with other covens. Having our main issue resolved by a simple job by me, because of my persuasion skills, and not to be arrogant… my charisma.
But the thing is, I feel like the Pride bloodline that courses through my veins is replacing The Hidden One bloodline I used to be. I was told I was a hybrid of the two bloodlines.
Let me break it down for you. There are 7 archetypes of vampires and 7 prototypes. The 7 archetypes are the seven deadly sins that incarnated as vampires from different mythologies.