Promising plot line.
However, you need someone to edit it as it is full of typos and syntax errors.
Oddly enough it is often hard to see them if you wrote the piece, which is the reason people have editors!
Don't compress the story so much - allow it to flow and work out each piece of information so it fits conceptually with the next.
The writing style shifts from a little gothic to modern which is a slightly odd method of atmosphere injection, though I can see what you're trying to do.
Thorax is not a word commonly used and is slightly further down than the throat, so it is hard to reach at first grasp of the persons neck. You may have intended to use trachea.
Punctuation is patchy with commas in the wrong place or omitted.

Now you've had severe criticism from me, don't take it to heart, it is meant as a help not to put you off.
I certainly want to see more.

I edited this to read a little less jerkily - though it's not my normal style
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I remember the old days; I was carefree and enjoying life. I used to go by the name of Jacob.

This might not be for the faint of heart; there is no real horror in this story - that is for a later time but do keep in mind that there is a little in this chapter.

I used to go by the name of Jacob Warton. Before all this happened...

I remember the old days; I was carefree and enjoying life.

That all changed when I found out I was adopted. I asked mom and dad, whom I had always thought were my parents about where I had come from and about my actual birth parents. They related that I was found on their doorstep one night and though they and the local authorities looked for my birth parents they could not be found. They then asked the state if they could adopt me and with it being the 80s and that they were a "traditional couple" and had good jobs and able to support a child, the state said it was OK.
So taking this knowledge in hand, along with my college degree in history, I set off to find my birth parents.

But the question stood, where would I start? My first thought was, ‘I am from outer space or are my parents are some weird otherworldly entities. My reason for thinking this was that I had never been sick nor had a virus even. Most kids will get sick every now and then but I never did; I am, was and have always been perfect healthy. Which in itself is weird. A good immune system perhaps? I have no clue.

Before I set off, I asked my adopted parents whom I will always consider my parents even if I find my birth parents, (I have a wild imagination at times) "How would you react if I found out my birth parents weren’t normal in the sense of human beings?" My thought process which produced this far fetched option was because I had been having some vivid dreams not just recently but for the past few years. In them, I am me, but a female version and I have this other form where, it can only be described as a demonic form. There is no thrill in hunting and killing humans, there is only the thrill of hunting demons. The crassest part is I would rip their trachea out and thrust my hand down into the chest and rip their black hearts out and feast on them, increasing my vigour and health like an action RPG. I’d wake up in a cold sweat every time I dreamt that dream. I think anyone would consider that really freaky as a dream. Wouldn’t you?

My parent’s response to this question was hesitant but eventually they related that they suspected something like this, but not sure to what degree. Their hesitation was more to do with not wanting to sound disbelieving or incredulous, they were extending their love and support, though unable to fathom the reality of my dilemma. We sat at the table talking about the dream in allof its livid not to mention gory detail. My father’s name was Dean he just sat and listened to me talking about this dream. My mother, a very sweet, full of life, loving woman by the name of Lisa was more worried . I still remember asking them "What the hell is wrong with me, why am I dreaming this and feeling truth behind something so messed up!!!!????"

My mother said "Honey I don't know, but there must be some reason behind it. I’m just not sure what, I am sorry dear."

I told her, "It’s OK mom, don't beat yourself up over it, we will figure it out together." My father just simply nodded his head along with me. My father then mentioned an object that was found with me, he rose and left the room – reappearing a minute or two later with the object which he brought to the table.
He said, "Son I don't know what it is or what it means, but it was with you when we found you on our steps. It looks old and Gothic." I took if from my father’s open hand and inspected it. It was a necklace with a fine silver chain and a pendant of a Gothic cross with a smooth rounded Amethyst stone that seemed to suck in the light in the center. It tingled when I took it from my father and while holding it. With some trepidation I slipped the chain over my head and placed the cross to rest on my chest. As nothing happened, I figured it was just a memento from my birth parents. I decided to keep it on. Something made me think and believe that this was a key and would help guide me to my birth parents.

Oh how right I would turn out to be