If I were a Vampire, I would be clever about my limitations, that’s for damned sure. First off, I would cut my heart out, stuff it in a metal capsule, and shoot it into space–and don’t give me some bullshit skepticism about my capacity to access NASA, I’m an undead freight train for Christ’s sake; I’ll find a way. And why space, you ask? Because there are no trees, wood, splinters, sawdust, or wood-based products in space. Moreover, since fire is basically the bane of my existence, I would certainly buy a flame-retardant cape.
Secondly, I would move my ass out of America. This is for a few reasons: 1.) Americans are camera-whores who tote cameras with them wherever they go; eventually someone would capture me doing something otherworldly, suspicious, or grossly illegal 2.) America has zoning laws that might get in the way of constructing my obligatory kick-ass castle.
Would I ever sire another vampire? Hell no. I would be a demigod, the Übermensch among men, why would I invite another to be my equal and potential undoing? If I get lonely, there are sundry walking Happy Meals out there to allay my lonesomeness. Another thing: I would never tell anyone about my condition. My awesomeness comes with some well-known hiccups. Risking eternity simply to reveal an admittedly magnificent secret is unwise. Instead, since my utter lack of humility would not allow me to remain an uncredited bad-ass, I would frequent little children’s dwellings or old people homes. Why? Because I would reverse-defenestrate through the window and demonstrate some of my hocus-pocus abilities. Then, for the little kids, I would reveal that I am a superhero, to which they would Oooo and Ahhh. And, to the old folks, I would solemnly reveal that I am the Angel of Death come to take their soul to Satan, to which they would also Oooo and Ahhh at a starkly different decibel-level. Either way, I would get my kicks and my confidence without threatening my vulnerabilities.
As is customary, somewhere along my eternal journey I will obtain nemeses. When this occurs, I will not forgo technology as my silver-screen counterparts are liable to do: I will buy an Uzi, spray in the general direction of my enemy, and go on my merry way. Side-note: If I were ever to wrestle with an especially vexing enemy, instead of ending his life swiftly I would break my no-siring rule, drop his ass in a vat of liquid metal, watch it envelop his now eternal ass, and wait until it dried into an unbreakable prison. I wonder what he would think about in there? Side-note to this side-note: Overly complex plans, like the aforementioned, is the very reason why villains are felled in the end. Perhaps I would reconsider my sinister plot and just kill the dude quickly…
Other things I would try: In spite of my refusal to spawn another like me, I would hazard spawning another unlike me. AKA, I would vampirize a kitteh! People tire of humans because humans are petty, entitled things. Cats, not so much. I have never heard of someone growing bored of their animal companion. It just doesn’t happen. However, trying to instill in a cat the necessary trepidation it must feel towards sunlight might prove difficult and potentially devastating. Eww…toasty kitteh.