True true blood: As pop culture sucks on myths, some real Kansas City vampires tell their stories

Excerpt from the Real-Vampires Community Alliance Guide to Safer Bloodletting, written by Sylvere:

Before you begin, you should prepare a first-aid kit. Include antiseptic mouthwash, antibacterial ointment or spray for aftercare; Band-Aids or another brand of sterile bandages for punctures and small cuts; nonstick, sterile gauze pads and medical tape for larger wounds; and latex gloves. You should also purchase one or more puncture-resistant plastic containers to dispose of your sharp instruments or to store them for sterilization later. You can get these from medical suppliers. Take this kit with you if there is even the slightest chance you might feed. Like the Boy Scouts, you should always be prepared. We also advise taking a class in basic first aid in case of accidents. Learn as much as you can about anatomy so you'll know where the major veins and arteries are and be able to avoid them.

Peter Rugg reporter's notebook, 12/19/08:

I'm sitting in the Winstead's by the Plaza waiting for a group of people I've never met. It's the monthly meeting of Gathering Dusk, a Midwest meet-up club that's primarily for people who identify themselves as vampires.

I realize, when they arrive, that I wouldn't give half of them a second glance if I saw them on the street; the other half look as I'd expect a vampire to look in Kansas City in 2008: lots of black clothing and eyeliner and lipstick. For most, it's a good look.

The oldest is Sylvere, 38, who's dressed for comfort tonight rather than in gothic style. She has gone by the name Sylvere since high school, when she picked up the nickname because her fashion tastes favored silver tones. She wasn't immediately agreeable to a story on local vampires. "I won't be set up as the local freak of the week, if that's your angle," she had written me. "I have my family's welfare to consider."

She has dark hair and eyes, and her features are birdlike in a pleasant way. She has run this group for almost four years and has finally agreed to introduce me to local vampires. The press has approached her before. Because the online community of vampires isn't that big and not many are as willing as Sylvere is to out themselves, she has been approached by a British documentary crew, been called for interviews on programs like The Tyra Banks Show, and had her account of vampire life included in anthologies from new-age publishing houses.

Though they call themselves vampires, not all drink blood. They tell me that there are different classifications of people who genuinely believe they need more than food. The most common are psi-vampires, such as Sylvere, who say they drink in the energy from surrounding people and willing donors. Then there are the real blood drinkers, called sanguinarians. As they explain blood classifications to me, I wonder if their way of life would sound more acceptable if they presented it as a fetish rather than a health issue.

They describe it a health issue because most claim to feel fatigued if they don't have a decent feeding every once in a while. Bright sunlight can cause them to burn badly and quickly, though this seems a common problem for many light-skinned nonvampires, too. Religious icons don't bother them. That doesn't mean they don't have opinions about religion: When Sylvere says she hopes to work in publishing and I mention a local Christian company, she insists that hardcore Christians don't "agree with rational thought."

Fewer than 10 of us are sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant. On my left is Sylvere, who starts polling the group as to whether the 1950s-themed diner would be a good spot for future meetings. It has two of the group's most important requirements: open to all ages and open late. They vote yes.

To my right is Lisa, who requests the use of a pseudonym for this story, out of fear of what might happen if all her friends and family find out she occasionally drinks blood. She looks like the type of young woman who is unaware of how pretty she is. Next to her is her fiancé, who was a donor early in the relationship but isn't now.

"It just wasn't my thing," he says. To hear Lisa explain it, drinking is a necessary part of her life and happiness; while he can't help, he encourages her to find other donors — within certain restrictions.

"We've had girlfriends in the past that've been open to it. Some really, really want to do it," he says. "But there's a sexual thing going on there, so I don't want her doing it with a guy. Besides, two girls together is hot."

Lisa laughs and agrees.

"When I first started out, you'd hear about blood parties with people just cutting each other and people getting sick," Lisa says. "There was some really dangerous stuff going on. A lot of people were doing stupid things."

Most vampires find their donors in the people they date, regardless of whether they're after blood or a more nebulous type of nourishment. Lisa, one of the cautious ones, requires that a doctor screen her partners for diseases before she'll touch them.