I remember the days, long ago, when women would be brought to me, or I would seek them out as they slept. Now they come to me.
This is another time and place. I have been told by my peers that I must be sensitive. I do not know sensitive. Just as I do not know cute. Nor do I know why I call them my peers. They are Vampires but we are not the same. One said I am not PC. I did not stoop so low as to ask what that means.
- Proud Cat
- Polite Crap
- Personal Computer
- Probably Cute
I have no idea.
The cat is mewing. I know what that means. Food.
Tonight I was at a popular drinking establishment. Two young women approached me. They told me I was cute. The former King of Vampires is cute. Kittens are cute as well. That I know.
I turned on my charms and spoke with the women. They asked if I was Russian. I told them no and that my country no longer existed. They hugged me. How quaint.
I could feel their blood pumping. I could smell it behind the sweet perfume they both wore.
They said they lived close. The one with the long dark hair asked me to come to her home. How odd that in my prime only Witches and other Vampires would ask me to their homes. But she thought I was a mortal man.
Behind the main street and businesses was a neighborhood of homes built around the turn of the 20th Century. She said she lived alone. That is something else new.
Once inside she poured us wine. It was never touched. I took her in my arms. She quickly unbuttoned my shirt. We made our way to the bedroom, where I tasted my fill of her, and not just her blood.
As she slept I went out to her house to find out what sort of woman she was. To my surprise and delight the walls were covered with books. I examined the titles of both old and new volumes. Every subject under the sun and moon seemed to be there. Pulling a small book off of the shelf I sat down in a wingback chair and read.
I was lost in the stories when she came back into the room wrapped in a blue silk robe.
She smiled at me. “My name is Skye.”
“Vladimir,” I said.
“I know you’re a Vampire. Even with all of that great honey blonde hair and your blue eyed boy-next-door looks, I know.”
“I look like your neighbor? Is he a Vampire too?” I had to ask.
“No silly. Boy-next-door means you’re hot.”
“I am a Vampire. I’m cold to the touch.”
“Hot means exceptionally handsome. Boy-next-door is a guy who is hot and cute.”
“Skye, lovely Skye, how do you know I am a Vampire?”
“Everyone in my family knows how to identify Vampires. Don’t ask me how. We were just born that way,” she said with a giggle. I think is was what they call cute.
“I see. I have met people like you before but it is extremely rare. Do you usually bring men you don’t know into your home and bedroom just after you met them?”
“Not usually, but you’re the exception Vladimir. Come back to bed with me.” She dropped her robe and stood before me naked.
“I do not want to leave,” I told her, “but I must go.”
“I have to feed my cat.”
“Then come to my bed for an hour, your cat can wait.”
Indeed the cat could wait.
On the way back to her bed I asked, “Skye, tell me, what is PC?”
“What does that mean?”
“You are out of touch aren’t you? It means that you are not to say anything rude or disparaging about a person’s ethnic background, country of origin, mental health, weight, sex, sexual orientation, religion, their culture, age, or physical appearance.”
“I see. And pray tell me, beautiful Skye, what exactly is cute?”
She just laughed and pushed me down on the bed.
I slept all day, my cat curled at my side.
When I opened my eyes at dusk I poured a glass of wine and watched the sun set. I thought of the night before.
I am in a time and place where women do as they wish. They control their own lives. They live lives where they feel passion and act on it. Women hold power. They read. They are equal.
I like that. I don’t know why but I like that. It stirs my passions and makes me feel as if I finally have a challenge and goals. I want to know more about a woman, not just her blood type.
I stand under the night sky. Once all I saw belonged to me. Now, but now how different everything is.
My advice is not to spend 400 years locked in a crypt. Always let someone know where you are going and who you are going with. My mother used to tell me that. I should have listened. While I slept my kingdom was lost.
I think of something Skye said. Fangs don’t make you a Vampire anymore than tits make me a woman. I have no idea what that means. I am not even going to ask.
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