As I sit here pondering my eternity, I wonder how I ended up in this place, such a place surely is reserved only for the evilest of all creatures. Such criteria certainly apply to me I would think as I reminisce about my life. All I ever did was to survive, how I could be punished like this it’s surely not fair; I am condemned to burn at the onset of the sun for the rest of this dreaded eternity. Now the only solace that I find in place which is eternal hell is a pen which I am required to journal my sins with. Such atrocities are not something that I want to write about, but forces beyond my power compel me to begin writing after my damned body regenerates after last morning’s complete incineration. Now in a place such as this, I find it ironic that my punishment is the very thing I find solace within. I think to myself that it was incompetence that led to my death and that surely is a major part, but for the most part, my undoing came at the hands of a simple nursery rhyme. Now that my hand has come back from the ashes I will start writing in this dreadful journal. What should I detail today? I know, I think the eventual readers of this woe-begotten journal shall fancy a tale of how I died.

The ghostly that haunted me was indeed a surprise, but her face was not one I was unfamiliar with; yes, oh yes I knew this foul demon girl. She was a girl in the early years of adolescence beaming with life when she died, as I reflect I recall she was merely a victim of chance in a moment of weakness when I could no longer contain myself. It was a hot southern night in Charleston and as the daylight died and gave birth to the moonlight I was in the grips of intense blood lust as I stalked prey anticipating the perfect moment to strike. I was not violent by nature or even a killer; I was but a new creature who had not yet found a way of controlling the monster inside. The smell of blood was ripe in the air. On the hunt for my first victim of the night, I had not chosen whom I would feast on until I stumbled upon a plump little girl practicing a nursery rhyme. Now I did not fancy the blood of little girls, but one caught my ear, not my eye! But my ear! As she sang a most terrible nursery rhyme.

Now one might say why I would call such an innocent melody terrible and I shall explain! See I had been a victim of childhood negligence at the hands of my trusted mother who would always sing the most beautiful voice of this certain nursery rhyme.

“Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can” as she would abuse me over and over again. 

However, my mother in her older age inflicted by disease her mind became that of a simpleton so I could not bear a grudge against her; instead, I developed a rage for that foul song she repeated as she beat me. Even as she lay dying on her death bed she repeated that horrible song. 

Even as I became Jeremiah the immortal, that rhyme repeated in my head over and over again.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man.”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

So it is out of this that I have developed an unspeakable rage towards the words of that song and in the moments when she uttered those words that little girl sealed her fate.

“Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake, Baker Man,” she said as her hands connected with an invisible force. 

“Come inside” calls a man from a brightly lit screen door a driveway away.

“In a minute” She yells continuing her giggle as she continued perfecting her rhyme with an invisible friend.

My blood already hot from the anticipation of the imminent feast came to a boil as she repeated that insidious song as she skipped up the street to the drive of her home. The thoughts of her sure doom gave a flood of comfort to my brain as those words bounced around in my head.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

As she made her way down the walkway to the door; I sprang several feet into the air directly in front of her, she let out a most terrible shriek as the shock and terror overwhelmed her. I grasp her neck with both my hands and bought an end to her cries. The kill was quick her plump little body went limp, but her cries succeeded in alerting her father. He burst through the door shotgun in hand, knowing that I would not be able to get away without taking a shell of buckshot to the back; I bought the monster inside me to a rise, turned to the man, and let out a bloodcurdling hiss. I could see the terror in his eyes at the sight of me as he scrambled backward in shock dropping the gun which went off with the loudest bang, and with the danger now gone I made my escape with great speed, the lifeless body in tow.

“Come back! Come Back!” screamed the father to his young daughter whom he would never see again. 

“Give her back to me!”

Now you might think me something like a savage after I took her but I assure you that I am not. I am not a killer for sport, only for survival I tell you. Yes her blood was sweet, but I prolonged the act no longer than I needed and I gave her a proper burial, I even spared her my curse by removing the heart. I ask you would a savage do such a thing? I think not! Now, why not kill the father you may ask? The thought of returning and dispatching the man was not lost on me I assure you; however a man who says that a vampire kidnapped his daughter surely would land in the nut house so I left the man alive to his own sorrow.

Now continuing with the story; many years had gone by in my life since that night and I have seen many places, killed many people, and met many vampires, but I decided to return home to good ole Charleston after 10 years away oddly enough I was homesick. Charleston was a place I remembered but only vaguely as the last 10 years I’d spent engorged in the blood of countless people from all over the world, hell the memories of even 5 years ago were hard to conjure. It was my second night out on the town and I recently fed on a group of social rejects congregating in the park which would serve as my meal for the night, however, their blood was none to pleasing no doubt because it was tainted by a host of drugs and narcotics so my thirst was not satisfied. As I readied for my next hunt I heard a tune echo softly in the background.

“Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

Although it had been many years since I heard that tune, the rage it induced inside me was still ripe and alive. I could only look around at the dead bodies thinking perhaps I forget to remove the heart from one and they were coming back to life as one of my brethren, but as I checked they were all very dead; their hearts all removed. The park was void of any life as it was just me and the bodies; then the song comes again echoing louder this time. 

“Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

Still, there was nothing to be found; angrier I grew as the dammed song continued to echo, perhaps I was suffering hallucinations from the drug-tainted blood I thought to myself.

Suddenly she appeared, a chubby little girl with a massive wound in her chest cavity. She repeats!

“Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Baker man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can,” she said

Then the realization dawned upon me as to who this ghostly figure was. Seemingly on cue with my mind, her face transformed into something of the devil, eyes so dark and void of light, that only evil lurked behind them.

I have many evil things throughout my years roaming this earth as a creature of darkness, but this was something not of the realm of earth, but from the depths of hell! I could see my future in the glassy gloss of those black eyes, a near future in which I would burn and wither away under the hot sun. This is where I completely lost it as I shouted. 

“Foul demon, leave me!”

As she moved closer I could see my sure destruction even clearer in those glossy black eyes.

“My god” I shouted as I scrambled with panic at the sight of her demonic form moving closer chanting that horrible rhyme.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

I stumbled in my escape and fell onto the empty street; it was the dead of night not many people were around and those who were about paid no mind to their surroundings as many surely were under the influence. As I fled I could hear the words of the dreadful song getting closer.

“Patty Cake, Patty Cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can”

The demon was getting closer and closer the horrible lyrics of that song beating in the back of my head like a hammer. I had never felt such terror in my life. I stumbled from door to door for blocks it seemed as if I could not find one place of solace as she steadily stayed in pursuit chanting that dreadful nursery rhyme. I fancied it a gift from the gods when I found an open bar which I surely took haven inside of. For the entirety of the night I watched the door awaiting her entrance preparing to flee as I tried to regain my stability, but hours passed and no demons walked through the door only patrons, perhaps I had lost her I thought to myself, the song no longer rang in my head and I thought myself safe. As the morning hour drew near and I was the only one left at the bar I had completely accepted that I had lost this foul demon girl, after I feeling of relief and triumph, I wished to have a meal before I returned to my place of slumber, the night was dying fast so I had to find something suitable fast to my luck there was older gentlemen manning the bar.

He was not my ideal choice, but he would have to do it for now.

“Last call buddy” He exclaimed to me.

The man was a small stature not much left to his bones, but not an old man just a man whom weary has made look old. Unfortunately, I thought to myself as I almost felt guilty for the suffering I would soon inflict upon him, but my heart would have no invasion of sympathy as I moved closer to the bar. I shall make small talk with him to lower his guard then I will strike his neck and drain him dry.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” I said to him as I took a seat at the bar.

He was a retired cop I deduced from the plaques hanging above the bar.

“So you were a police officer,” I asked as he poured.

“Yes I was” 

“Decided to retire and open up a bar huh,” I said. 

“No wasn’t quite that simple.”

“Oh, well tell me good sir what makes a man quit a solid job and resign to serving drinks,” I asked

The old man chuckles at the sarcasm of my question.

“Well, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” He said.

“No? I have seen many things in this world sir; I could believe anything at this point.”

“Not what I would tell you!” he exclaimed with a despondent look on his face.

“Try me”

The old man then poured himself a drink and spoke.

“Well about 10 years ago my daughter was kidnapped and murdered by a man.”

My face tensed up as the weight of what he told me settled in.

“My god!” I shrieked “Did they not catch this scourge that would destroy innocent life?” I asked

“There was no way possible” the old man claimed.

“What man could be immune to punishment for such a crime?”

“Ah, but he wasn’t a man, but a vampire,” the old man said. “My superiors thought me Looney and took my badge”

The shock of what he said almost made me spill my whiskey.

“Oh,” I said as I gazed upon it.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” he whooped “That’s right, I told you wouldn’t believe me!” he said as he laughed; he finished his drink and turned his back to wash the remainder of his glasses. 

The shock was still vibrating throughout my bones as continued to process what the old man said. How could he know of our existence I thought to myself as I finished my whiskey. Perhaps he saw the vampire that killed his daughter I thought to myself, or maybe he was lying, but such a tale could never be conceived by a man as righteous as this. Well since this tale isn’t false I thought to myself, I began to think of the vampire who would do such a thing; rather sloppy work to kill and leave a witness I thought of this immortal. I rather felt bad for the old man that he saw his girl meet her end to one of my kind.

Whoever this immortal is will surely be forsaken from the species if ever found by me, oh yes he will I thought to myself! But in the meantime I would fix his mistake as I could have never allowed the old man to live since he knows of us; so it was as I finished my last drink of whiskey that I leap the bar my fangs reared ready to take his life but was not to be as I received a blast from a shotgun to the chest clearing me clear across the bar. However it was not normal buckshot that I was stuck with, but wooden chips doused in garlic that hit me, many clearly penetrating my eternal organs. As the pain rushed to my brain and crippled my body preventing me from moving it was here that I knew my death was certain. 

“I got him” the old man yelled.

“I have killed this damned vampire.”

As I lay dying on the floor, the demon girl manifested next to the old man and they embrace me. It was then that I realized I was the victim of a most clever trap! I realize that this vampire would be so incompetent; I and he were one and the same. I laugh now in hindsight as I deduced that I should have known this plot from the moment I laid eyes on the old man as he had those same glassy eyes as his dreadful daughter. It’s only fitting I guess that my end would be brought about by whom it began with.

And as the sun rose to the sky illuminating the world the old man locked up his bar and prepared a cold steel table for my body. Henceforth from here in all its gore and misery the old man sobbed loudly as he dismembered my body as his ghostly little girl stared into my cold lifeless eyes uttering that ghastly nursery rhyme.

“Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Bakers Man”

“Bake me a cake as fast as you can.”