Somali Vampire King

In my day, vampires sucked blood, not cock! That's what I thought to myself as I drained a tall, pale gothic guy and dropped his bloodless corpse in a dumpster before walking off into the night. I have a die-hard hatred for Twilight fans, male and female alike. As an authentic member of the Undead Club, they seriously piss me off with their antics. Vampires like myself as predators. To us, humans are meals on legs. Nothing more and nothing less. Seriously, I hope this fad will go away like the Gangnam Style guy and all that crap.

In case you're wondering who this is, my name is Suleiman Akbar. I was born in the environs of Mogadishu, Somalia, in 1276. I became a member of the Undead Club in 1299. The one who made me was the legendary Fatoumatta Kader, a fearless and absolutely gorgeous East African vampire princess who became my lover and my guide in this new world. Together, we roamed over the motherland of Africa, and beyond. In Andalusia, in Morocco, we became legends. They called us the death bringers because that's what we did. Yeah, those were the days, man.

Of course, like all good things, they came to an end. After traveling the world wreaking havoc, Fatoumatta and I returned to Somalia and became friends with this witch named Farah Ibrahim. You see, in those days, witches and vampires had an uneasy truce and sometimes we consorted with one another. Farah and I got along really well, a little too well for Fatoumatta's liking. She flew into a jealous rage and tried to kill me. I barely escaped with my life. To punish me, Fatoumatta transformed Farah into one of us. Now, that was a really bad idea.

You see, those we call witches are human beings born with extraordinary powers because of their rare bloodlines. Long ago, a race of beings known as the Ancients walked the Earth. Through their mating with the ancestors of modern humans came aberrations such as vampires, werewolves, witches and many others. Warlocks and witches are human beings with special abilities such as Telepathy, Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis and Teleportation. Those among them who learn to master their powers can become really dangerous. Vampires and witches have clashed for a long time. We typically don't get along. We see all mankind as prey and human beings with special abilities tend to upset the natural order of things by fighting back against us. Still, I have never heard of a magic wielder being turned into one of the Undead because, we all knew it was a bad idea. I mean, I'll admit that the idea has a certain appeal. Turning your worst enemy into what he or she hates the most, it is truly wicked. Still, even though us vampires are wicked, we don't cross that line because the warlocks and witches are BAD news.

When Fatoumatta turned Farah into one of us, she altered the balance of power between good and evil. You see, us vampires are the most prolific of all the inhuman breeds out there. Werewolves are rare. There are probably only a few hundreds of them scattered around the globe. Ditto for demons, most of which can only stick around in this plane of existence for a limited time. As for my fellow bloodsuckers, there are tens of thousands of us out there. Most of us are solitary by nature but sometimes we gather for mutual protection. We replenish our ranks thanks to unsuspecting fools who vanish every day. Most of them we eat, but some of them we turn into vampires because, well, we enjoy their company.

Fatoumatta, my super ex-girlfriend turned me into one of the Undead that night in Mogadishu because she was feeling a bit lonely. Well, while I'm thankful to her for granting me eternal life along with superhuman strength and speed, I can't fathom any good reason for her bringing Farah into the fold. From the start the witch-turned-vampire proved unstable. She retained her special abilities even while a vampire. What we have here is a vampire with the ability to read minds, set things ablaze with a glance and also occasionally see into the future. Now, Farah has all the weaknesses inherent to the rest of us. Silver and sunlight are lethal to her, but she can do so many things that most vampires can only dream of. It didn't take her long to become a very great threat. The first thing she did was kill Fatoumatta, torching her mere weeks after she was turned. There aren't a lot of things which us vampires consider taboo but killing your maker is an unpardonable sin.

Since she killed Fatoumatta, our dear Farah has had one obsession. She wants to kill me, the guy responsible for her being what she is. Farah hates being a vampire, even though she's considered an unstoppable force among our kind. Most of us avoid her, and with good reason. Even the Old Ones, vampires who have been around for thousands of years, stay clear of her. Why? Simply because they fear her. It's been a long time since I laid eyes on Farah. I left Somalia, and wandered all over the world. I lived in Kuwait from 1500 to 1773. In 1804, I moved to what would later be called Nigeria, and remained there until 1887. From 1900 to 1972, I lived among the people I am the most fond of, after my fellow Somalis, of course. I'm talking about the people of Haiti.

I think I surprised many in the vampire community, including myself, when I embraced these people, and their ways. While on the island of Haiti, something in me changed. You see, Haitians have a deep, intimate knowledge of the supernatural. The people of the village of Quartier Morin, northern Haiti, knew what I was and they accepted me. They fed me blood from their goats, sheep and cows, and the only thing they asked of me was to protect them from their enemies, the brigands who roamed the countryside and often killed poor farmers for sport and for profit. For over seven decades, I lived among these people and I protected them. Several women would come to my bed at night, and I enjoyed them immensely. The only human blood I drank came from murderers, thieves, rapists and other evildoers. I finally left Haiti in the 1970s to return to Somalia. I did learn something from the Haitians, though. You see, when I was human, I was brought up in the religion of Islam. It continued to affect my worldview even after I became a vampire.

In the Republic of Haiti, I discovered the Voodoo faith, the only religion in which supernatural entities like demons and vampires are neither reviled nor worshipped. Voodoo practitioners believe in the One True God, called Allah by Muslims, Yahweh by Jews and God Almighty by Christians. They simply mix traditional African beliefs with their monotheistic faith, that's all. The Houngan, the leader of the Voodoo community of Quartier Morin taught me that being a vampire didn't make me evil, my thirst for blood was as natural as can be. He taught me that there must be balance between good and evil. Occasionally, certain types of evils were too great to be fought by the forces of good. Such evils were fought by another kind of evil. It was my duty to restore balance by defeating the kinds of evils that good couldn't take on. The worst of the worst. Like me.

Since then, I've been out there, a changed man. I still drink blood, but only that of evil men and evil women. The gothic punk whose blood I drained at the start of this tale is a sex offender. He digs vampire lore, hangs around younger women and preys on them once they've let their guard down. I put an end to that toot sweet. Evil must be destroyed. I've battled my own kind on occasion. I've had to step in to prevent the innocent from ending up on the menu, and the other vamps out there didn't like that. Not one bit. I'm out there, doing my thing, living life and feeling free. Anyone looking at me sees a six-foot-one, lean and wiry man with dark brown skin, curly black hair and light brown eyes. A proud son of East Africa. Here I am, and here I remain. The monster who prowls the night in search of victims...to rescue.