If you were given the option to live forever in exchange for becoming a bloodthirsty creature of the night, would you do it? Being posed that question in a stable state of mind evokes serious thought about the pros and cons of immortality. Yes, you could roam the planet, decade after decade, century after century, watching humanity evolve right before your very acute preternatural eyes. You could travel the world, indulge in the arts, live a sumptuous lifestyle, and partake and likely abuse all the superhuman powers you've been granted. So where's the downside?

Like any addiction, one tends to hit rock bottom. Is there such a thing as too much of a good thing? You bet. No matter how old a vampire you'd become, you'd have to struggle with the inevitable loneliness that comes with being an immortal, coupled with the reality that you must live with the fact that you're using the human race — the same race you were once an intrinsic part of — as food. That said, would you become one of the walking undead, or would you choose to live out your natural life to its predestined conclusion, whatever that may be? Lets take a closer look at what you're up against.

One Is a Lonely Number

Both in literature and film, the aspect of vampires as lonely creatures is often emphasized, usually playing upon the fact that century upon century of stalking and hiding in the shadows slowly breeds a measure of insanity. As some vampires do, Anne Rice's preternaturals have the ability to disappear for centuries at a time, burying themselves for a prolonged rest until which time they reawaken and reassert their immortality. In the Underworld films, the vampire elders “leapfrog through time,” one ruling their coven a century at a time while the others sleep in a mummified state until reanimated via blood transfusions. There's a strong logic in those clever processes, as not only are the vampires re-energized by their extended nap, but once oriented to their current era, they're able to function — in most cases — with few hints of psychological impairment.

For the vampire who chooses to go solo or one with only a few fledglings as companions, the aspect of being alone can weigh heavily on one's psyche. Take, for example Miriam Blaylock, the protagonist of Whitley Strieber's 1981 novel The Hunger. Miriam is of ancient Egyptian times and has lived for thousands of years. During that time, she's had many lovers, only her companions aren't immortal as she promises when turning them. They have an expiration date. They live only for a few short centuries before nature takes a cruel turn and they begin rapidly aging — but not dying. They must endure a living death locked away in a coffin by Miriam, fully aware but unable to function. Being a vampire of an allegedly alien species, Miriam simply chooses another lover and moves on. But roiling under the surface is the knowledge and fear that comes with realizing that it's only a matter of time before she will lose her current love and spend eternity grieving for him (or her). That's quite a conundrum — even for a bloodsucker.

The bottom line for most vampires is that at one time or another most succumb to depression or madness as a result of realizing that as an undead predatorial species they are truly alone. Now that's not to say that there aren't contingents of blood fiends who have no remorse and no earthly qualms about wreaking havoc on humanity. Most certainly these monsters are prevalent throughout fiction, film, and especially folklore, but the fact remains that no matter a vampire's level of aggression, the so-called dark gift of immortality is more often a curse that manifests itself in myriad ways, through violence, madness, depression, psychosis, or bloodthirsty revenge. All of that must be considered by those considering a vampiric lifestyle.

Do or Die

Here again is another point of consideration. If a vampire is to remain a vampire, it has little choice in its survival. Kill to survive or be killed for others' survival. This comes down to one basic factor — blood (see Chapter 8). The majority of vampires in folklore, fiction, and film feast on human blood, with a contingent of reluctant vamps choosing animal blood or synthetic blood for sustenance. Still others, like Blade (see Chapters 15 and 19) use injectables in order to control the thirst and forgo killing anything for the sole purpose of food. Yeah, it's cool. But it's also a movie.

Something else to ponder. In the television series Forever Knight, Nicholas de Brabant, otherwise known as homicide detective Nick Knight, drinks animal blood in an effort to make restitution for all the lives he's taken over eight centuries (see Chapter 18). That's not to say he doesn't occasionally succumb to his vampiric urges, because he does. That issue plagues even the most hardcore reluctant vamps. They long to be human again and be rid of the madness that comes with stalking and killing humans. Of course in the meantime, they have no choice but to obtain blood by any means possible, be it a rat, a junkie, an heiress, or in some cases, another vampire or otherworldly creature such as a werewolf. So if you're considering vampirism, bear in mind that the happy little picnic that is immortality comes with torrents of fire ants determined to stake a claim in your demise.