vampir Blut

From Anonym


After my experience I tried to write down my thoughts, which were circling around it, for a certain person. Therefore the text is addressed to this person.


What can I say… I like to talk, but probably more when it comes to everyday life or funny things. But here it is different, because it is so new for me, so untouched by all the bad things that had been put over my feelings. Until now.

It was a Saturday and I was on my way to you. Slightly relaxed, because I had been able to spend a few days with my brother before. These carefree days were rare since we lived so far away from each other and relaxation as such was not particularly a talent of mine. On the long way home “you” were now entered as the next destination in my navigation system.

We had already had a few months to get to know each other by studying together for university. You for your course of studies, me for mine. Because of the distance very contemporary via zoom and almost daily. Since we got along so well in the meantime, you couldn’t be missing on my route through this federal state. I looked at the temperature display of my car, it was hotter than it had been for a long time. That was really exhausting. But the thoughts that were spreading inside me about our upcoming days only made me feel this tingling nervousness that slowly put a gentle goose bump over my arms. It felt good. I had been working on this topic for over a year now. I had read, talked, written. Vampyrism had become an integral part of my catalog of thoughts. It already had a permanent room in my inner house,  so to say. But only for rent. Because secretly I cherished a small hope that the thirst would cease and that after this experience I would recognize his insanity, like a soap bubble that looks beautiful, but which will soon be gone again. Because that would have been the easiest thing to do. For my Protestant faith, for my strict family and for … my life? Who knows.

So I wanted to know. Nevertheless, I only assumed that I would donate this weekend. I was looking forward to it in a way I could not explain. I didn’t have enough energy right now, but I wanted to understand both sides of the coin and did what was necessary. I thought. And arrived.

There you stood before me. The discomfort of the first few minutes was gone quickly and we found topics of conversation. You showed me your home and we spent a nice day together in the big city. Many funny and beautiful events confirmed our sympathy for each other. It felt good to realize that. Someone who was so similar to me and yet so different. It was beautiful. Vaguely I began to enjoy this feeling and began to trust. I was relieved that apparently everything you told me about yourself was true.

In the evening the situation was crystal clear. We wanted to dare. I… wanted to dare, for you this was nothing new anymore. Nevertheless, you felt this moment as an honor, which at first I was very surprised about. Shouldn’t I rather consider it an honor to be initiated into your knowledge? Well, at least we had a mutually respectful point of view, which gave the whole project a sense of anticipation.

I thought a shower might tame my nervousness a little… I was wrong. So I sat down on your sofa and took a deep breath. You had already brought out a few utensils that we had discussed weeks ago. So in this new situation everything still seemed familiar to me. I had had enough time to get used to the idea that a blade would cut into my skin or yours for an effective reason, not for the purpose of self-harm.

You said something that touched me deeply: You wanted to donate to me first because I was more important right now. That was more respect for this situation than I thought I could stand. It felt good.

You chose a spot on your body and slowly cut it open. Those few seconds lasted an eternity for me. My nervousness overturned as well as the doubts that arose in me: What if I have to run to the toilet and throw up? How disrespectful and unpleasant that would be… What if my circulation goes bye-bye? What if I realize that it’s just disgusting, as disgusting as one should feel about it? Or the worst fear: What if I wake up tomorrow and it was good; and then I feel a never before felt guilty about my faith, for which I had sought justification for so long. Then I would need something that I could not afford.

The thoughts flew out of my head with one look. It was the moment when you gave me your arm and looked at me encouragingly. Friendly and connected. Your arm. The blood.

It looked so beautiful. How it began to run from your cut, forming fine beads on the outer edge of the fine line. I took your arm in my hands, as if you were now leaving it to me. Never before had the desire to drink felt as strong as it did right now. Nevertheless, I hesitated for a moment because of the devotion that came up in me. A feeling of honor. Then I began to drink very slowly and timidly. The moment when I tasted your blood in my mouth was by far the most satisfying moment I could wish for in this situation. My whole body became warm and reacted to the situation, and with each additional sip the feeling of unbridled freedom and joy continued to sweep me away. I felt a little tipsy but very clear. At the same time, the feeling of closeness never experienced in this way pulled me back into your room and seemed to connect us. I tried to categorize this closeness when I paused briefly. This was not a closeness from a marriage, this was not a closeness from a friendship, but something completely new, something indefinable, if not experienced by oneself. Once again I took a deep breath. This time not to escape the tension, but to feel lightness, which seemed to ground me in a paradoxical way and let me fall into a peace. In peace. In serenity. I was serene, even though I was not used to relaxation. It was astonishingly beautiful. Uplifting. As if this feeling ensured that I stayed with myself, formed a unity with myself and was finally enough for me. A missing element in the picture was inserted.

You asked me how I was feeling and all I said was: “Right. I feel right.” That was probably an attempt to verbalize that I felt more like myself than I had ever felt in my life. That was right for me. Not being a passenger in my life and watching my life drive away from me. But to be the driver myself. Not to sleep anymore. But to be awake. To be awaken.

“And I can hear just fine,” I added. You explained to me that this could be true and I received some other information. Always well dosed, as an intermediate course, if you like.

I fell into your arms. I felt like I was coming home. As if I had just been away for a long time and was now back again. Like an old woman remembering the past. You felt the same happiness. My satisfied smile was hard to get off my face.

There was so much more emotion, so many thoughts in this situation. But these are our memories.

You showed me a path that night that led me to myself. Which gives my feet a secure footing. That gives my heart a direction. And which gives my head clarity.

And I thank you for that.

Born to Darkness

Psychic awakening

Psychic Awakening 

By Legio Sanguinis


Growing up is inevitable. Childhood’s end is marked by the realization that the fantasies and stories we were told as children can only prepare us so much for the real world. We learn about heroes, villains and monsters. At the core of these stories are these archetypes; Idealised embodiments of the whole of human experience. The way in which these archetypes take form for us is dependent upon our upbringing; Whether we chose to believe in an overall order in the Cosmos or not is our own decision. Are we the hero, or the villain in our own story? Or do we fall somewhere in between?


Some of us have a second growing up of sorts. Aside from coming to terms with the harshness of the world and its seeming lack of orderliness at times, we are able to sense  invisible entanglements which join all things. These links can be emotions such as suffering; Pain; Joy, and even pleasure. In a strange way, we can follow these like a beacon; Drawn to them like moths to a flame, or sharks to blood. 

This isn’t something which is taught, nor which can be exactly learnt, but definitely a skill which is honed and perfected. The way in which a fish instinctively knows how to breathe underwater, so do we few have to face the incontrovertible reality of our nature and how to follow it with caution.
Trying to go against it is as futile as battling the course of the wind, for it will tear us apart. When acting against it, we deny ourselves and can enter states which in themselves are utterly destructive. Our only course of action is to take wing, and allow it to do the rest. 

Nourishment is thought only as that which the physical body requires to keep going. Certainly, as beings who exist as corporeal entities, we need food. This is what our organs break down and turn it into energy. We open our eyes and break our nightly fast. We exit our places of habitation and head to perform menial tasks for remuneration, and so on…day after day. Surely I need not go into the minutiae and trivialities of the mundane activities we get up to. Yet, it is the mundane which serves as a sort of baseline for that which is less than ‘usual’ about us. 

In a very real sense, we are like others in the natural world. We are born, we grow old and eventually expire. What happens afterwards is entirely up for debate. It is how we go through these stages which marks exactly how it is we deviate from the ‘norm’. Nature and evolution have taken billions of years to produce creatures as intricate as we, to be sure. 

And by ‘we’ I mean vampyres.


Such a charged word, there. Certainly, countless writers and authors have covered the subject ad nauseam. Since the inception of the idea and the myth, enough accounts and testimonies have been provided to fill an entire library, or more. Monstrous creatures in the night come to steal the life force of the living. How utterly terrifying.

I for one know that I am not one of those undead abominations. I am under no such delusion of grandeur. I am very much a breathing, living person with the same needs as other living organisms, with a small variation.

If we are familiar with genetics, a single change in one’s DNA brings forth a mutation. Enough changes and thus comes forth a whole different species. I am not, to the best of my knowledge other than homo sapiens. However, I do feel there is a need in me which is unmet by forms of gathering sustenance common to other carbon-based life-forms. And that is a certain hunger which goes far deeper.

When I mean hunger, you the reader may conjure up in your mind a ravenous, famished beast out to rip throats and tear bodies to shreds. If only it were that simple and dramatic. The appeal of the vampyre in film is their ease; Ease to just be away from civilization and to move in the shadows; Unseen and unencumbered by physical limitations, or the constraints of time and mortality.
I, however, am just as mortal as anybody else. My hunger presents itself in the form of an ‘energy’ deficiency. When I think energy, I think of that which is generated within living organisms, as well as particles bursting all around us in the universe. 

You, I, and all of us are made up of energy. Our bodies give off heat, and our cells burn and move, filled with it. It is then no small thing to make the claim which I am about to make. And that is of the existence of frequencies which are invisible to the eye. Perhaps on some subatomic level, they are all around us. And we, the gifted few are able to tap into them in some form of another. I am of the belief that our physical body is imbued with such frequencies and ‘subtler’, ethereal forces which coincide with the workings of our own physical body.

Were I not so sure of my own sanity, I would be as equally worried. There is no terminology which can be used to describe what I admittedly know to be true about myself without coming off as some vapid, New Age drivel. Some occultists and seekers of “hidden truths” within our community of “Psi Vampyres” are fond of using obscure language that coincides with and borrows from religious and spiritual philosophies. This, unfortunately, appears to be the only available manner of explaining that which we are to the world at large.

I will not deny the non-corporeal elements of my own nature and that which allows me to continue living a more full, healthy life. This I learnt after much introspection and reading the works of well-renowned individuals involved in these areas of expertise. 

As previously mentioned, though we receive ample health benefits which our physical body requires from consuming food, there has always been an additional need to take from that which is referred to as life force, or Qi (氣), in traditional Chinese culture, and which is present in life-forms.

Why this occurs has been hypothesized about. Some claim that it is due to some imbalance within our subtle bodies, which some would call ‘astral’ or ‘ethereal’. Perhaps even a deficit within the energy centres, referred to as chakras by the general population. As to what extent this is true, I do not exactly know.

All I know is that once I engage in this absorption of ‘energy’ from another, I feel better. For years I was riddled with physical afflictions such as migraines and nosebleeds, as well as bone fractures. Interaction with individuals claiming to be vampyres aided that which is known as ‘awakening’, and eventual increase in health.

I could say that the process was similar to discovering a new flavour of ice-cream. A flavour which can neither be described properly with words, nor can it be shown to others. How can I prove to you that this flavour exists if neither of us can describe what it tastes like? I truly hate the pitfalls of ‘faith’, or whatever it is we wish to refer to it as. Yet there it is, and it exists. It was very much like finding the Holy Grail, if I may be allowed to use such grandiose language. I understand it is not a panacea, and that all of a sudden I will not be granted complete immunity from the ills and the tribulations which plague us living beings. That would be quite silly and absurd of me.

In this discovery I found a way to gain access to it at any time, as well. I understood, in my own limited way, that it was something which my body had been missing. I cast off my so-called mentors whose agendas were less than savoury and focused on developing myself. For a period of about eight years I found a way to block this conscious form of feeding, so to speak. That time, where I had once more found myself at a crossroads proved to be unbelievably harmful to my health both physically and mentally, perhaps to the extent where neurological conditions which were perhaps dormant manifested fully, thus wreaking havoc on my psyche and my body. There was indeed a chasm which could not be filled by anything. Not relationships, food or frivolous activities which were borderline dangerous seemed to do anything for me.

Perhaps it met my requirements; As one ravenous beast would feast even on the dregs and the leftover carcasses of roadkill, so I took whatever was given me without a second thought. 

It is now, nearing my thirty-first year of life that I have gained a much better understanding of myself. Past the mythological and over-romanticised aspects of being a vampyre, and the flawed teachings of those I once trusted. I understand why I do what I must do, and I must do so selectively. And as I am today a vegan, so am I an ethical vampyre who carefully chooses who it is I take Qi from. For what my subtle body takes interferes entirely with the rest of my physical body in ways which not even I can fully comprehend. Mens sana in corpore sano.

Furthermore, I have finally encountered someone who is just as interested in my well-being as myself. It is through his help that I am able to now accept and embrace who I am. 

Vampyrism is different for us all. Some may link it to a spiritual development, whereas others regard it as an extension of their own physiological processes. Maybe it is both, or something else entirely.
We have a dual ending: That of our childhood, and that of our mundane lives, if that is what we decide to refer to them as. In the end, only each and every one of us gets to decide what it really means to be a vampyre. 


Between hot cocoa and bloody dreams

My awakening is very difficult for me to narrow down. It was a process which I so masterfully hindered, that it dragged on for 10 years.

I grew up happily in a small town, with parents, brother, grandparents and uncle under one roof. The world was safe and protected and I felt loved. A world of family evenings, hugs, hot cocoa and stories read aloud to help me fall asleep. For a long time I did not know that there were children whose families were broken. To meet a child of divorce in elementary school alone was like an experience from another world for me. I was curious, adventurous, was one of those few children who didn’t cry the first morning in kindergarten, who explored and constantly looked beyond their own nose.
My home, however… was a Disneyland. The roles were traditionally distributed. People rarely talked about negative things, political incidents or extraordinary issues… And I realized early on that I belonged more to the complicated unknown world than they would have liked. Still, it was a nice, warm home.
My first experience with blood was a hamster bite. When I was about eight years old, it bit my index finger and I watched with fascination for a long time afterwards as a small lake of blood formed in my palm and finally slurped it up. It was intoxicating and my little heart beat up to my neck. I would have loved to run to my mother to tell her about it. But I stopped myself and put the experience in my inner box. 
I was never afraid of me or disgust or thought I was any bad, but simply instinctively realized that neither the time nor the circumstances were right to deal with it in that moment. I don’t know what exactly triggered me to get an inner box in which I hid everything well and safely, had the potential to be awakened. Maybe I just always had a very good sense of what, where and how I had a chance for acceptance… or at least I thought I did.
And so I often sat in my room for hours with music, rode my bike alone for endless hours or walked through the forest in the evening and dreamed of the day when I would finally dare to let others take a look inside the box. I enjoyed details that others did not even notice, like ants running up a trunk or the shape of a leaf. Sometimes I would just stand in the forest and hug a tree, enjoying the feeling that it was alive. I was more at home in my own world than in the real one. There I could be myself and think adventurous or even bloody thoughts without having to be in the caretaker position. 
This behavior alone gave me the reputation of being strange, at the latest in secondary school. Additionally I was also a very sickly child. My circulation was constantly on the verge of collapsing. I was often deathly pale and slowed down.
Since children and especially teenagers are wonderful creatures, I quickly became the victim of bullying attacks. This was bad in parts, but bearable, because I was not alone. I joined a group of highly gifted kids, nerds and girls with problems at home. We were outsiders, each in our own way, and dealt with it aggressively. Where the cool kids went to parties and got drunk, we talked shop on my couch for hours about StarTrek and the political turmoil of the Federation, played pen&paper role-plays, had glasses in the basement or swore soul mates over a burning candle. We even wrote little comics about ourselves. I was an undead alien in them – any questions? 
Among my friends I actually managed to lift the lid slightly, very easily. I remember telling them about a blood dream of mine in which I drank human blood as a vampire. What I didn’t tell them was the euphoric feeling after waking up and the taste of blood on my tongue, which almost drove me crazy. But maybe I would have dared to do that at some point if I hadn’t gotten worse and worse. 
As I got older, it became more and more difficult for me to keep the lid on the box. An enormous pressure grew in me to deal with what had been smouldering inside me for so long. The situation that nobody really knew my innermost being, not even me, became increasingly unbearable. I made a plan, went to the USA for half a year at the age of 16 with the firm intention of filling up my self-confidence and unpacking the box piece by piece after my return. 
It went wrong. 
As badly as it could have gone. I had only slightly lifted the lid, just making it clear that I wanted to go my own way in the future, when my parents already wanted their quiet, always smiling daughter from before and blamed my first boyfriend for all my “changes”. 
It’s not nice when an otherwise so loving mother throws her first boyfriend out of the house screaming instead of taking me in her arms and asking me what’s wrong or the father standing in front of you: “When mom said: It’s a girl, you wanted it, didn’t you? Then I said yes” and leaves with tears in her eyes. I have always been very empathic, I suffered with everyone around me who suffered because of me, no shields, no strategy to deal with it… a downward spiral. I quickly became more and more withdrawn, which didn’t make it better. Learning that my brother, with whom I had such a close relationship before, was teased in school because of me, stabbed me in the heart. He kept his distance. They couldn’t help it then… a terribly overwhelming situation for everyone involved. Disneyland was on fire. We were all so desperate and hurt, and it stuck in my throat what was really going on with me, as far as I could even formulate it at the time. It became utopian ever to be able to address something like blood thirst and I slowly and steadily collapsed, feeling endlessly lonely. My friends asked what was wrong with me, the teachers showered me with reproaches while my grades slowly slipped into nirvana. At best I said “It’s complicated” or just nothing at all. 
I just wanted to leave.
I dropped out of school after 12th grade. While my parents and my brother were on vacation, my boyfriend at the time and I rented a small van, cleaned out my room and rented an apartment in a city in the Ruhrpott. 
Almost two years of radio silence to my family followed. Within a few months I had dropped out of school, lost my entire family and all my friends. The only thing I had left was an ailing relationship, which for 4 of the 6 years was merely a community of convenience. 
Holding the box tightly became a cramped habit. I wasted all my strength for it, could hardly speak anymore, could not look anybody in the eye. I had no more blood thirst, I simply felt nothing at all. There was nothing left of me. An inner winter completely devoid of energy. 
I fell into a life-threatening depressive phase. 
There were moments when I thought very specifically about killing myself, talking to emergency hotlines, googling the most painless ways to die, thinking every morning on my way to work about what it would be like to throw myself in front of the train. Sometimes only the worry about the train driver kept me from doing it. I staggered deeper and deeper down… and finally I didn’t have the strength to hold the box shut.
Given my condition at the time, it’s completely crazy that I felt so much better from one moment to the next, but that’s how it was. I looked in the mirror and saw ME. The blood dreams came back, even stretched into the day. In a flash, the bath water in front of my inner eye turned to blood and I closed my eyes and immersed myself deeply. 
I hated the triggering part of it and loved it at the same time because it belonged to me. I had missed it. I finally gave my awakening a chance.
My boyfriend and I ended the relationship and I started over. In my very first apartment of my own, I licked my wounds and went in search of it. Terms like “Vampire” or “Sanguinarian” didn’t mean anything to me at that time and since I had grown up with a modem on a single computer in the house, my addictive talents for like-minded people were limited. I did not know that there were others who were like me. When I googled “vampire”, I was always afraid of getting involved with reality fugitives or sectarian structures. Added to this was the ever-present voice in the back of my head that told me: “There’s nothing there, you’re just crazy. 
I dived deep into the gothic scene, explored, tried out this and that and kept my eyes and ears open. 
It was an accumulation of happy coincidences that I finally found a vampyric community that welcomed me with such open arms that I was overwhelmed at first. Finally I had a term for what was going on with me. “Vampyrism”.

In the community I got to know and love a man who gave me a real donation for the first time. We did it with a razor blade on his back. My first attempt failed because I just could not bring myself to cut him. While I was crying snot and water, totally thirsty and triggered, he made me a tea and took me in his arms. I felt so infinitely understood and accepted.
The next day the thirst was greater than my inhibitions and it worked. I remember that just before my lips touched the skin I thought “And now you’ll realize right away that all these years it was all in my mind. Then those bitter, electrifyingly tingling drops touched my tongue and tickling through each of my cells. I was completely at peace with myself. 

My efforts since my early childhood to suppress my awakening almost killed me and hurt countless people. This is a frightening and sobering thought for me to this day. Just as vampyrism seemed to be one of those essential components that made me what I am today and therefore found its place in the box. This is not a hobby, or something you try out, not a kick you seek because you like vampires. I have no idea where it comes from… did I simply long for extraordinary dark worlds where my childhood was so harmonious? But why blood? Why suffer so much because of a longing? And why is my first violent memory with blood consumption something as trivial as a hamster bite? … but the bottom line is that none of this matters. I am fine.
As long and painful as my awakening was, I wouldn’t want to miss what came after that for anything in the world. 
I had strength again. My health improved steadily. I have no explanation for this, except that a healthy psyche and finding an inner center certainly have a positive effect on health. The depressive feelings of that time never came back. 
I found like-minded people and other donors who became family to me.
I have studied again and today I am pursuing my dream job. 
I am in contact with my parents again. They will never fully understand what happened back then or what I am doing now, but they are really happy when I come to visit them. They see that I am doing well and that I am happy and that is enough for them. They do not ask. I am still hugged as warmly as when I was a child and I know that this cannot be taken for granted. Every year at Christmas I visit their “Disneyland” and enjoy it very much. 
From time to time I even had contact with old friends again. Maybe I will deepen this again… sometimes I ask myself if I shouldn’t have given some people in my life the chance to understand me instead of just leaving. This is what I’m stuck with. And it always will.
And the man who gave me blood for the very first time? I will marry him next year after 10 years of relationship. 
My life is beautiful… and it tastes excellent. 

Mirrored Awakening

This post was approved by Valerian. He had no desire to make it anonymous. I would like to thank him once again officially and wish you all pleasure and insight while reading. 🙂

My name as Vampyre is Valerian Matar. I am male. At the time I am writing this story of my awakening, I am 53 years old. I am from Germany and originally come from Düsseldorf. I lived there for 33 years until I moved to the Munich area for professional reasons 20 years ago. I am a natural scientist by profession, a physicist to be exact, and work in the field of materials research.

I would describe myself as a hybrid vampyre, a mixture of psychic and sanguine vampyre, although the latter is weaker in me. It is important for me to take up life energy in the area of large crowds of people in the form of ambient energy or in direct contact with individual persons (of course by mutual agreement with the donor’s permission).

It was a long and rocky road until my awakening, because nobody introduced me to the society of the vampyres or guided me. Even as a child and very young person I noticed that there was something about me that made me different from other people. For example, I noticed again and again that people often behaved in a rejecting or even hostile way at the first contact with me, without me being able to give a reason for it. In addition, I often felt lacking in energy and slack, but I was very energetic, for example when I was in large crowds such as in the city center. However, I was not fully aware of this at first. With increasing age, however, I developed an ever-increasing hunger – I just didn’t know what for. When I was alone for a longer period of time and the hunger set in, I became restless, tense and depressed inside, even though I am a person who can wonderfully occupy myself for days on end. Then I had to be “among people”, so to speak. Since I lived on the outskirts of the big city, I went to the city center in this condition, where many people were staying. There I simply walked for hours through the streets and department stores. When I came home in the evening I was physically exhausted, but my inner energy was filled up and I was balanced again. The inner restlessness and tension and the associated hunger for energy had disappeared. From this, I practically developed the ritual of “going to town”. I already did this when I was ten years old and I still practice it today. When I didn’t have this opportunity to get to know people for a long time, for example during intensive learning phases in my studies, where I sometimes studied for weeks at home for exams and final examinations, I ate lots of chocolate bars as a substitute for the actual meals. Certainly, intensive learning phases require more energy, but that was not the decisive reason for me. It also worked in very everyday situations, for example when it rained in torrents for weeks in the Rhineland as usual and nobody went outside the door longer than necessary. With chocolate, the hunger for energy could be satisfied for a short time. But that really only worked for a short time. Soon the hunger came back. But the best thing about it was certainly that I did not gain weight. With a height of 1.81 m, I weighed 67 kg in my mid-twenties. I was quite lean and scrawny and I am still quite slim today. This lack of energy, the inner restlessness and the depressive states, I naturally put on external circumstances at that time, since I had not yet recognized the connections. My scientific education and approach stood in my way. Only much later I did gradually become aware of this in retrospect.

In the course of my adult life I developed a preference for dark topics. I often dressed in black clothes, but without being a fan of the gothic scene. I developed a love for romantic literature, especially dark romantic literature. In the 90’s I was fascinated by vampire movies, like Coppola’s Dracula film adaptation, “Interview with a Vampire” or the Blade series. These films and the subject of vampires in general appealed to me very much and made something in me vibrate, but it still wasn’t tangible.

In my late thirties, I developed an unquenchable inner urge to deal with completely different topics beyond physics after my exhausting studies and doctorate. These were things I had never been particularly interested in before: hypnosis, the unconscious, Jungian psychology, shamanism, the dark sides of man and especially the dark side of me. Topics, therefore, that had never moved me as a natural scientist. Looking back, I suspect that the hunger and the inner nature of the vampire unconsciously drove me in this direction. Both factors probably wanted to be consciously recognized and perceived, because during this time I fell into a hole inside. I had achieved everything I wanted professionally, but at the same time I felt empty and unhappy inside. Even hunger could no longer be satisfied as effectively as before with the usual methods. It was only after I started to deal with my inner worlds and listened more to my inner voice that things got better again. I became more balanced again and brought this inner side to vibrate, which I had not known before, and was then able to satisfy my hunger in a sustainable way. After several years of developing in this way, there was an intensification of events that triggered the process of awakening.

In 2007 there was an open conflict with my then supervisor, with whom I had been having problems on a subliminal level for several years. In his presence and in conversations with him, I repeatedly felt drained and lacking in energy. Shortly before that I came across a book by the author Catherine Ramsland about real vampires and learned that there is such a thing as psychic vampires that can rob a person of energy. At first I was skeptical, but with my further research on internet sites of the vampyre scene and more detailed books on the subject I gained more and more reliable information. And then suddenly I realized: Not (only) he was a vampyre, but I was one. Then I suddenly became completely aware of why I was constantly being attacked by humans. The people apparently felt unconsciously threatened by something in my nature and in my appearance. Probably they unconsciously felt something dark and threatening emanating from my person. My superior, with whom I had the conflict at the time, and who was a very egomaniacal and selfish character with many self-doubts and feelings of inferiority, must have felt very threatened. Because of his character he was an energy thief, maybe even a never awakened vampyre. However, the decisive factor for my cognitive process was the fact that my projections of his person were reflected back to me. Now that I had realized my true nature, I never allowed him to exert his ominous and energy-robbing influence on me again. I drained this energy channel. At the same time, I learned more and more to control and develop my inner nature. In doing so, I was helped by the internet and the literature of the vampyre scene, but also by my occupation with shamanism. The deeper I immersed myself in the matter, the more I noticed features and qualities in myself, which other vampyres also reported about. Thus I show a strong sensitivity to certain influences in some areas. I am quite sensitive to sunlight, which can cause me migraines and severe sunburn quite quickly, especially in summer, if I do not protect myself accordingly. In addition, many things that I experience with myself or other people very often stir me up inwardly and emotionally, although outwardly I usually appear to other people to be clarified and uninvolved. Furthermore, I am a distinct night person. When I don’t have to work, my rhythm of life is completely reversed. I turn night into day and sleep a lot during the day. However, these are only a few characteristics.

The process of awakening was quite complex for me. The basic process of awakening went very quickly after the inner realization suddenly rose within me during the extreme situation. It took me several weeks to accept this realization. After I had accepted my true nature, it took several years before I learned to develop and use my inclinations and qualities in a targeted way. This inner, spiritual process is still going on and will probably never be finished.

Over the years I developed a deeper understanding of what makes a real vampyre. Meanwhile I have even developed my own explanatory model for myself, which I can of course only present here in a short form.

For me, a vampyre is a person who has a certain recurring lack of life energy. This deficit of life energy causes a corresponding hunger in this person, so that (s)he has to compensate the lack. This can be done either through blood on the physical level or immaterial life energy on the psycho-soul level. A real (awakened) vampyre is fully aware of this lack of life energy and fully accepts his nature. To do this, it is necessary for the vampyre to merge his everyday side as an ordinary person and his dark side as a vampyre into a stable connection over time. Being a vampyre is therefore a double-edged sword. It has great advantages and leads to an intense awareness of life when you s a vampyre are a personality in balance on a physical, mental and spiritual level. If this succeeds, the vampire can master his hunger and satisfy it in a controlled and ethical way. If this does not succeed, the vampyre is a driven person without control to the detriment of his fellow human beings. It is like a curse if you have not found this balance.

I myself now live out my vampyrism very discreetly in my everyday life. I have managed to perceive my hunger consciously, to master it and to satisfy it in a controlled way. As already mentioned, I satisfy my hunger primarily by absorbing psychic environmental energy in the inner cities of big cities and special locations (bars, cafés, etc.) and intensive personal encounters, but also by eating fresh food and food with animal blood. Contrary to what some vampyres say, I have made the experience that not only human blood satisfies hunger, but also animal blood is suitable for it. For a while I had a donor in terms of blood and psychic energy, but that was a few years ago. After the loss of the donor, I learned to feed myself again with psychic surrounding energy. I have been able to improve my relationships with my fellow human beings considerably in recent years, as I have managed to bring my nature of day-consciousness and inner unconscious shadow into a stable balance and to use my special abilities to my advantage. I now consciously live out my dark side and enjoy my interest in special literature, music, movies and special topics from history and psychology. I have found that being a vampyre leads to a new and particularly intense quality of life. As a vampyre you live more in the here and now and enjoy the moment. Overall, being a vampyre has enriched my life.

A new path

ForewordIt took me a lot of effort to write down this experience here and even more to publish it and thus possibly face accusations. The shame is still deep and so is my confusion about my own behavior. I can only ask not to condemn me in advance.

This experience is certainly triggering, so I ask you to handle it responsibly.


Blood, blood everywhere

When I was 18, I was happily taken in by a clique of crazy goth people. They replaced my family. There was a hard core of 6 or 7 young people and an estimated 20 others who came and went, and whose presence was simply to be enjoyed. From the stubborn emo, to the super-goth, to the long-haired joker, we had everything with us – and most of them had a package to carry. They questioned what others took for granted and looked beyond their own horizons – here I felt at home with my own little package.

We loved to spend our Friday evenings with a beer in our favorite pub with loud metal music until the early morning hours. At that time I was living out what was popping up inside me. Desire for pain and dominance? No problem, the guy in the corner looks good and is known for his bondage games… Fancy a threesome or a snog with the convinced hetero girl over there? A challenge and soon a win. I had unforgettable fun and forgot about constraints and shadows.

This story here begins on such an evening in a pub. We had arranged it as a meeting place to move to a private party during the course of the evening.

From here we wanted to warm up to Corinna. Corinna was the latest “achievement” of Lea. A sweet introverted girl whose shy look from big eyes made me curious. Out of decency, I had not dared to make any advances. Lea was not best friends with the rest of the clique, but nothing justified crossing that moral line and approaching Corinna in a way Lea intended for herself. I kept to my couple with whom I had become quite intimate not a week earlier. She enjoyed the female attention, his breast swelled like a rooster. After an hour we squeezed ourselves into Corinna’s Corolla. In youthful recklessness one of us finally sat in the trunk. Seven of us (!) drove to Corinna’s parents’ house. And even though she often looked sad and her scars had not remained hidden from us, Corinna’s mood dissolved in our presence.

Lea had introduced them only a few weeks before. She often sat quietly in her corner and reacted mainly when she was spoken to directly, but otherwise did not participate much. Lea didn’t seem to mind, she continued in her advances.

Soon after we arrived at Corinna’s house, we populated her bedroom, which was comfortably furnished with pillows and dimmed light. Music came out of the speakers and its dark element met our taste. I spent most of the evening laughing out loud, flirting wildly, dancing and relaxing. My attention was focused on my couple, who gladly accepted me into their circle. Beer and sticky cocktails did the rest.

Until the moment Lea came rushing into the bedroom with a pale face and screaming in horror against the music, I hadn’t quite realized what she and Corinna had been up to in her corner. Another one turned the music down so that it could be understood. Her eyes were wide open. Her body language spoke volumes. Something was not right at all.

“Cori locked herself in the bathroom! I don’t know what she’s doing in there!” Lea pressed out. 

“What happened!?, I hissed with a gloomy look as I walked past Lea into the hallway and headed for the bathroom. My suspicion was that her advances had gone from pure wordplay to an assault. That she had ‘overlooked’ a border and that Corinna, feeling cornered, had fled. Agitated by the alcohol and in an apparently unstable condition, she had perceived herself as a victim and did the first thing she could think of to deal with it…

In front of the bathroom I knocked softly against the door, I could not hear anything. The others had followed me, crowded into the small hallway and looked at me with big eyes.

“Hey, Corinna. I’m here. Would you like to open up for me? It’s all right, nobody’s blaming you. I worry about you. Will you open the door for me, please? I’ll send the others back, if you like. All is well,” I prayed down in a calm voice. I wanted to calm her down with this chant, to show her that there was no reason to go any further. No one really knew how far she had perhaps already gone. My couple was about to call the police when Cori opened the door a crack, not looking at me, but whispering in a broken voice, demanding that everyone leave except me. I didn’t hesitate for a second to fulfill her request, just wondering why she wanted to keep me here of all people. I had prepared myself to call the ambulance and then leave her alone.

After I had thrown everyone more or less out of this house, which was a complete stranger to me, I ran back upstairs. They accepted it with little amusement. After only 3 minutes, I stood in front of the door again, collected myself and entered the small bathroom. She opened and…

…and my breath faltered.

Blood, there was blood everywhere. The floor in front of the guard basin was full of it. She had hidden her arm when she opened the door for me and only now did I realize the extent of the situation. I entered the little room, kneeled down next to her on the floor, but my concentration was gone. She sat on the white tiles as a pitiful pile of misery, staring at her own blood and still holding the blade in her hand. A razor blade, of all things. The alcohol did the rest, the blood was thin as it flowed from her arm.

I came close to her, not looking at her. I just wanted to let her feel that I was there and that I accepted her with her shadow. Then I reached for her hand, took the blade from her and put it away. I began to wipe the blood away, now completely confused myself, at least a little with paper. It was hopeless and foolish, so I let it go and instead pulled her into the bedroom by her upper arm and with decisive words. She kept mumbling that she didn’t want me to call an ambulance. But the depth of her cuts and all that blood worried me. I sat her down on the mattress where I had kissed and laughed with Katja just 20 minutes ago. The silence rang in my ears.

Corinna just sat there, with red cheeks and tear-stained eyes – and I could feel her pain. She had been inflicted with a wound whose mirror image was the scars on her body. I felt the soft mattress beneath me, I smelled her shampoo and blood… and then I did something I am still insanely ashamed of today. I took her arm covered in blood and licked it. I tasted the blood, which was still leaving her body in little rivulets and something in my chest opened wide.

“What are you doing?” she whispered in a tense voice. And I did not look at her, but only at her arm. To this day – and I am bitterly ashamed of this, too – I feel inner dark calm, as if I were wrapped in a warm blanket and as if the sounds of the world had ceased to a murmur.

I moved up to her, took her in my arms and breathed deeply. I realized what I had just done and my heart broke. I suppressed the feeling and started to convince her again to call a doctor.

“We have to call an ambulance, it looks bad. Please let me do it. I will go with you…”

And finally her resistance crumbled.

I called the ambulance, cleaned her arm until it arrived, packed her bag and then dragged her out of the house into the car, relieved that someone would take some of the responsibility off my shoulders.

The rest of the night blurs into a picture that is no longer entirely clear to me. The sequence of some scenes after that seems to obey no fixed order. My mother came to pick me up. Her parents had come home in the meantime and confessed to the accusations their own daughter had made against them, my mother was speechless and finally I found myself at home, infinitely tired and confused. My mother had refused to drive me to the hospital, I had abandoned Corinna…

I turned my back on my clique shortly afterwards. They accused me of kicking them out and I couldn’t talk about what had actually happened.

I never heard from Corinna again, she did not react to my messages. Lea had also disappeared from the face of the earth.

What had happened there? And what on earth had I done?

Many years later, I heard from friends that Corinna had moved to another state, finished school and had a job.



This memory was long suppressed by me, at least in its details. Only with time did I dare to bring it out again. With my ever-increasing desire for blood, I finally began to make an obvious connection to this experience. Had I suffered a trauma and therefore this thirst? Was it simply an unconscious way to deal with it, a mental disorder?

But why had I done this at all? Was there a vampyric behavioral pattern that was already in place and that made me do this stupid thing in the first place? 

Did I just want to build up closeness? Show her that it was okay to be wounded and that I didn’t hesitate to accept her and her shadow?

I still puzzle about it today.

Meanwhile, my awakening is progressing. By now I would be ready to take a step towards implementation, to taste blood again, but now Corona is in my way. Let’s see how it goes on.


I was asked to put my story on paper, so for the first time I write down how I became myself – over the years, no one has learned the whole story; friends, acquaintances and partners always received the fragments of my past that I deemed necessary to explain my behavior or manner satisfactorily. However, no one received all the pieces to this puzzle; if they had all connected with each other, perhaps a complete mosaic would have been created, but this never happened.


It probably started much earlier than I am aware of, even today, although I have already worked out and found out a lot about myself. Already in my childhood it was clear that I had morbid interests, compared to “the others” I was always more introspective and occupied with the big questions about the meaning of existence, about my inner being, about death and life… and fascinated by blood, never repelled, always attracted. When I hurt myself, I always licked the blood as a matter of course, but nothing had ever stirred in me, it was my own blood after all – I liked the taste, but that was all.

At first I didn’t think much about it, took it for granted and as a part of myself.

Of course I read all the vampire stories I could find, saw all the movies and enjoyed them – but it was never under the aspect of “wanting to be like that” or otherwise identifying myself with them… these stories were just another item on the list of my darker interests.

I met my first steady partner online, as it often happens nowadays, we found a connection through common interests and decided to meet. So far so good, I already knew that he liked similar dark topics, but due to my lack of experience, my naivety and infatuation, I was not quite sure how all this manifested itself with him.

From the beginning, he was very brisk and demanding, which I associated with his experience – far beyond mine – both sexual and emotional. So I let myself be guided, unaware of what I myself wanted or didn`t want, unaware of what would be enriching for me. The first days with him were peaceful, I learned a lot about him and me, I didn’t feel threatened but excited and fell head over heels in love.

The dark twist that the whole thing took came as a surprise to me – though not entirely unexpected, since I – in retrospect this became clearer to me – already had an idea. From where, I can`t say.

So one evening he had a blade in his hand, one of his favorite knives, sharpened with dedication – just for me, as he said. As the blade made its fiery connection with my cool skin, I froze, overcome by the sweet pain and my mixed feelings. I believed he would take care of me – trusted him completely, even though I was entering completely new territory at that moment.

The cuts became deeper and more numerous, much deeper and more numerous than necessary … and finally he began to drink my blood. I let it happen, amazed by the change in his personality at that moment. After he had helped himself, he leaned back and cut himself in the forearm, forced his blood on me, pressed the wound to my lips – and as if by remote control I opened my mouth and drank the blood that was forced on me. At that moment, there was no room in my head for all the questions that came to me all the more clearly afterwards: why did he do this? Why did he apparently assume that I would want this? Did he not care if I wanted it? What did it give him … and what did he want to give me?

At that moment there was only a dark, booming humming in my head and chest and a power unfolded within me that made me shrink from myself. I had always suspected that something was slumbering inside of me – very deeply – but in those moments I realized that I had completely misjudged and underestimated myself.

Although the situation can be seen as very abusive (and I did so for the longest time), after this relationship – after this evening, after this experience – it became clear that blood triggers a reaction in me that I could not explain to myself and about which I did not talk to anyone for some time. Because what had broken out in me the moment his blood wet my lips was shocking, uncanny and above all completely crazy.

This is how I saw myself for many years: as crazy.

I could neither explain what blood gives me, nor did I want to understand it, I mainly wanted to forget it – which of course, as you can easily imagine, did not work. Again and again, sometimes with cruel force, it broke into my consciousness.

I avoided situations in which I could be exposed to the blood of strangers, because the sight alone was enough to bring the memories very clearly to the surface.

My fantasies of violence had always been a part of me, these became stronger at times, then weaker again – in addition, my aggressions fluctuated just as cyclically as my thirst.