A few people messaged me after I posted the last Craigslist ad, asking to see more of the strange posts that I’ve removed since I started working here. I will admit, I have archived a few, largely for morbid intrigue and entertainment value when buddies come over. I figure I might as well share them with a wider audience, too.
This little gem was posted in the Men Seeking Women section – a section typically reserved for harmless perverts and the occasional sex criminal. Normally, they’re a laugh to look at, though I’ll admit that I got a little worried when I saw the title, “Will Pay Top Dollar For Human Blood – Virgins Only, Please.”
I reported it to the authorities, trying to avoid having another “Craigslist Killer” headline slapped across all the media outlets, but nothing was ever found. Best see for yourself why I did that. Once again, contact details have been redacted.
Are you a college student who needs some extra cash, and has managed to abstain from sex? Or someone down on their luck, living from pay-check to pay-check, who just never had any experience with guys? If so, my wife and I have a very enticing offer for you, and I kindly encourage you to read on.
We’re willing to pay you up to $300 for a pint of your blood, bi-monthly. No checks, no hassle, no hidden small print. Just $300 in cold, hard cash for a pint of the red stuff every two weeks. Anyone from children to senior citizens are welcome to apply, as long as you can attest to the fact that your blood is virginal, and you are able to provide any medical paperwork confirming the quality of your blood to our designated meeting place.
I myself have worked as a medical nurse for the past three years, so you can guarantee that the bloodletting itself will be clean, safe, and professional – not to mention, of course, financially lucrative for you and your loved ones. Though if you suffer from trypanophobia, I’d recommend that you don’t apply. I don’t wish to make anyone stray from their comfort zones.
My wife and I would prefer it that these meetings be treated with the utmost discretion, and so they will take place at meeting areas of our choice (all hygienic environments, such as pre-selected hotels, to avoid connecting either of our homes to this). These meetings will go on for as long as required, but forgive me for not being overly social – I like to concentrate when I work, and it better ensures your safety and comfort.
Now, I’m assuming you’d like some context for this, as you’ve probably guessed by this point that this blood isn’t going to be festering in any hospital blood bank. No, there’s a real sense of urgency for your donations here, because I’m beginning to run out of time.
I’m sure any loving husband would do anything to please their wife, but my wife, Anna, has always had some strange appetites. Before you get any ideas, this doesn’t refer to anything bedroom-related, I mean genuine appetites – appetites that aren’t easy or convenient to satisfy. Please don’t hold these against her, because she’s honestly the sweetest woman you’d ever meet. Ever since I first heard her musical laugh and saw those deep, blue eyes, she had me in the palm of her hand.
Sorry, I’m getting sidetracked again; I just want to put things in perspective for you here. My wife is not a bad person, not at all, she’s just got a monkey on her back. She loves people, and she’s too humble to even set foot near a mirror at the best of times. She’s got a rare kind of understated kindness and beauty that you hardly ever seem to see these days.
We met back in college; she was my first ever girlfriend, and I can’t imagine being with anyone else. Whenever she used to slide a disinfected pin into one of the veins in my wrist and started sucking, I always assumed it was some kinky fetish thing, or a side effect of severe anemia. I was practically doing mental backflips to connect all these dots rationally.
The fact is, over time I began to realize that drinking blood was just a means of nourishment for her. She could put away a rare steak now and then, but in all honesty, I was the only meal – a nickname that she playfully took to calling me – that ever satisfied her. It gave me a sense of obligation, like only I could help her fulfill these unconventional needs.
She normally took enough to make me feel a little woozy afterwards, but never enough to cause any lasting harm, so I indulged her – she said she spent every day of the week looking forward to sucking on my “juicy veins”, and boy did she live up to that statement.
You’ll do some strange things for love, so I hope you don’t judge me too harshly for my means of expressing mine.
Fast forward a few years, and we got hitched. In spite of the bi-monthly blood drinking, Anna was perfect for me, and I was more than willing to lose two pints of blood a month to stay in that relationship with her. It’s a once in a lifetime situation to meet someone you seem to click with so perfectly.
When we consummated the marriage on our wedding night, it was my first time, and when the pregnancy test showed positive a few weeks after, I was the appropriate mix of terrified and elated.
Anna wasn’t so pleased. The morning sickness affected her severely; she looked like a ghost of her former self, all wispy and pale. I noticed that she’d stopped drinking my blood, and when I asked her about it, she just told me that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. My blood just wouldn’t do.
We tried to carry on like normal – Anna was simultaneously getting rounder and thinner, and her illness just seemed to get worse. It wasn’t morning sickness anymore, she was just wasting away, getting frailer by the hour. At night, I prayed silently for answers, for some way of saving my wife.
Then, a kind of miracle happened. I came home one day, and Anna was positively glowing, as though she’d returned to perfect health. It was almost like seeing a ghost, looking at that beautiful, radiant woman that I fell in love with. I’ll admit she did look a little sullen, like a silent admission of guilt, but I was just too happy to notice it at the time.
That happiness was somewhat tainted when, later that day, I saw an emergency news bulletin about a little girl who had gone missing on the way home from school. It’d be silly for me to have made that logical link, if I didn’t already know Anna so well. She’s not cruel, never has been – that woman never even killed spiders that made their way into the house, she was paper and cup all the way – but Anna wouldn’t let herself die if there was some way to avoid it. She loved living too much.
When, a few days later, I fished a frilly, pink bow out of the garbage disposal, my worst suspicions were confirmed: Anna was having…pregnancy cravings. We never spoke about it, but I think she knew that I knew, and it felt almost like a cloud of shame and guilt was hanging over her head, during what should have been one of the most exciting times of our lives.
No, I didn’t report her. I probably should have, but I knew that she couldn’t help herself. I’m sure that whatever she did, she did it quickly and humanely, and as much as it hurt me inside to think about it, I realized that this was just her nature. We can’t help who we are.
Throughout the rest of Anna’s pregnancy, three more little girls went missing. The news felt like wall-to-wall sobbing parents, begging for children that I knew would never return to them. It was the hardest period of our relationship, but when little Molly was born, everything felt alright again.
She was so small and fragile, so innocent, it brought out Anna’s more nurturing side. The girls stopped disappearing, the blood-drinking seemed to grind entirely to a halt, and for the first two years of little Molly’s life, we felt like a normal family. We laughed and joked and played games, just like anyone in our position would.
A few months back, I even felt as though we were finally ready to put this ugly past away entirely.
It’s just that lately…Anna’s been getting this hungry look in her eye when she looks at Molly, it’s a look that frightens me, knowing what Anna is capable of. If she did it, I know it wouldn’t be her fault, and she’d tear herself up inside over it, but I can’t let her do it. That’s why I need your blood to sate her, and I’m willing to pay any amount of money for it.
I don’t want Anna to eat Molly like she ate all those other little girls.
If you’re interested, please contact me using the instructions I’ve included below. I don’t think there’s much time left.
- Please don’t contact us with any unsolicited offers or requests.