The old timey walkman-like cassette recorder is on and recording.
There will be no video because...
Wladimir Drugov deflects light making him invisible on video.
He has bound himself to a large appliance and he is awaiting his ultimate fate.
This scenario is likened to a scene out of a frightful horror movie.
And there on the table... as the morning darkness wanes... in full display,
The essence of this moment is boiled down...
To The Last Quarter Tablespoon Full!
I have fed off the dead and wounded during America's violent civil war times examinations.
I have stalked women in their log cabin and killed them in their modern home.
I have been living my dark bloody nightmare for so long that I have lost my desire to roam.
I settled here in Seattle 63 years ago when a creature like me could easily hide in the gloom.
But something happened out here and the gloom brightened as the city began to actually bloom.
More people are out here now making it much more difficult for me to hide and feed.
And now I have concluded that I have survived long enough... there is just no more need.
I've killed my final person for food and the last of his blood is in the tablespoon on the kitchen table.
My mind is degrading into madness and I can no longer fathom murdering for blood... I'm not stable.
The Protracted loneliness and the isolation has finally reached the core of my lifeless soul.
I am now now so black and dead inside that my very essence would fit in a small bowl.
I have chained myself, with 100% silver links, to the heavy refrigerator in my kitchen lair.
I even found a silver coated padlock to connect the two ends to tighten my snare.
I have decided to destroy myself by sunlight immolation when the sun rises in a few minutes...
When the burning light streams through the kitchen bay window to fry me down to my spirits.
And there on the table, calling me like an orchid calls a wasp, is the spoon of fate and temptation.
What it holds in its curvature is the cause of all the pain and my seemingly eternal damnation.
There it is, the remnants of the last quarter tablespoon full of blood to touch my watering lips...
The final temptation I must suffer through for penance as death, my soul, it rips!
I never got my revenge on the dirty feral bitch who first turned me into a horrid vampire tale.
I chased her trail from Germany to the Americas and I never caught but a hint of her trail.
It doesn't matter anyway... what was I going to do if I ever caught up to her?
She turned me, so her power over me might make me no more than a stepped on sand burr.
Ah, the sun rises right now... the first rays of light are streaming against the wall opposite of me.
To whomever concerned, when you hear these words on this cassette recording... fear what you see.
I am not the only one of me walking the mean pathways of American streets.
And the pile of 200 year old dust on the floor in front of the refrigerator... is me burned down to my feet!
Scatter my dust to the wind over dry land and let my molecules fly free.
I never want to come back, so make sure I am scattered wide and far and away from a tree.
And make sure you take that spoon on the table and wash it well!
Better to erase the last vestige of my existence... there is no more to tell!