Vampire Diary: Love Letters

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Dear Diary,

I do not understand the ways of love in this modern world. Not my love. I know my own cold un-beating heart. It is that of others I do not understand. It is not always women because Vampire women have always been of their own minds. They take what they want. We have no defenses. Not that we care, but I do not understand the men.

Oh what a night. My head still spins, but Dear Diary, stay with my thoughts no matter how confused I might seem on this page.

This modern world is strange indeed. Even Vampires play the fool now. It used to be that we, or most of us, were in control. Then I was sealed in a crypt for three hundred years. While I was there, and I am the Vampire King, what do they say now, all Hell broke loose. Vampires lost their minds and became weak. They lost track of their emotions. They became idiots. I am at a loss. Since I am Vlad, the Vampire King I will do my best to educate the young Vampires on the ways  of old.

Tonight I went out my favorite tavern. After mingling with the regulars I looked around and spotted a lone Vampire. Only I knew he was another Vampire. I had spoken to him before tonight, but that was before I knew how pathetic he had become.

He was a young Vampire, perhaps seventy years of age. Yet, he looked young, as I do. I am centuries old. The card I carry that enables me to drive an automobile without being taken to prison says I am thirty four years old. So I lie. I am a Vampire. It is what I do to keep warm blooded people from bothering me. We all do it. You would do the same. I would be crazy to admit I was born in the time modern historians call the Dark Ages.

My young Vampire friend, a fellow called Byron, sat in a back booth of a local bar, alone, with nothing but paper and a ball point pen. Ball point pens are a true modern marvel. He had a glass of red wine in front of him. His face carried an extreme look of sadness.

“What is this?” I asked pointing to the paper he was writing on.

He did not look up, “A legal pad.”

I was puzzled by his answer. “There is paper that is not allowed?”

Byron looked at me with his eyebrows together. “No. Legal pad, as in lawyers.”

“So James, you are writing law? What sort of law?”

“I’m writing a love letter. You should know all about that the way women love you.”

“Are love letters now something that is dictated by law?”

He took a swallow of his wine and spoke again. “No. Yellow paper is just called a Legal Pad because lawyers use it for their notes. Yellow is easy to find. Sheesh Vlad. I’m writing a love letter. Even if wasn’t legal I’d still be writing it.” His face was sad like a mourner at a funeral.

Then I looked upon the page in horror. What came from the head and heart of this man, this Vampire man was both appalling and terrifying.

My darling Lydia,

I long for you company. I am lonely and need you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I sit alone in this bar thinking about nothing but you. Why won’t you love me? Why won’t you notice me? I am here. I hold my hand out to you to come with me. Be by my side. Be my Vampire Queen. Make me complete. My life is a failure without you. Please, it has been so long since I have had a woman in my life. I need you.

“What is this?” I asked.

He gave me a long sad look like a guilty dog who has stolen a man’s dinner off of the table. “I told you man, I’m writing a love letter.”

“This is no love letter. This is a letter of a worm. This is the letter of a man who is not a man but a weak pathetic boy who still longs for his mother’s milk.”

His mouth hung open in surprise. “Vlad I’m not a pervert.”

“Good,” I said.  “That is a trait that will not attract women.”

He shook his head. “No, man, I don’t want my mom’s boobs. I’m not into that.”

“You are an idiot. That is what is called an analogy. It means you have the emotions of a baby.”

Again he looked surprised as if he had never heard the truth before. “What do you mean?”

If I did not carry the title of Vampire King I would have rolled my eyes like a teenage girl. “Byron, please look at the words you put upon your page. No woman, especially a Vampire woman, would respond well to those words. If she is wise she will either ignore you, or better yet, put you out of your misery. Maybe I should put you out of your misery. Your paper may be legal but the pathetic words that you write break every law of romance.”

“Well, I don’t know what to write. I mean, you’re like scary good looking. Every woman in this place thinks you’re the cutest guy they’ve ever seen,” Byron said, looking as if he was about to cry tears.

I did not ask him what he meant by scary good looking. I am good looking but I am not scary looking. As I said, he is an idiot. I know I am cute. I do not understand it, but that is what all of the women who meet me say both to my face and behind my back. Kittens are cute. Babies are cute. I am neither a kitten or a baby. Byron acts like a baby and that is not cute. I am still trying to understand.

I put my hand on his shoulder. He shuttered at my touch. “I am not going to hurt you. I am going to help you,” I said in a low voice.

“Are you going to make her love me?”

“If I do try to make Lydia love you she will hate me forever, but yes, I will try,” I said.

I put pen upon paper and wrote….

Dear Lydia,
I think of you and I smile. When we speak with each other I feel content. Our words flow together as if we are writing a musical about thoughts and ideas to be shared. I feel comfortable around you, as if a century passed our conversations would continue to be fresh, and enlightening. I am glad we met. It would honor me if you would join me in a night under the stars. I look forward to hearing from you.

I put down the pen then I looked up at Byron. “This is but a start. Do not make your attempt at courtship about you. Make it about the woman you wish to be with. This is not about your emotions but about hers. If she agrees to spend time with you, and only then, do you tell her your own feelings. When you tell her how you feel do not act as if you are starving for blood after a year buried in a grave. Act as though you are in control. Be…what do they say now…be an adult about it. Be mature. Not like cheese but like wine. Like a real man.”

I thought to myself that my brain was going to liquify and drain out of my ear if I had to spend another moment with Byron, so I excused myself. This was not what I had planned on doing tonight. Byron thanked me. He told me he would keep me informed of the outcome of his attempt at attracting Lydia. I do not know this Lydia but I am tempted to tell her to run as far away as she can.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight we have our veins full of blood, and our hearts full of love. We might be Vampires, but we are also very much alive.

I lay next to my lover Gillian, watching her in a cold silent slumber. You are so beautiful my love I whisper. She silently smiles and rolls over to face me. I stroke her shoulder and run my hand along her bare arm. I kiss her neck, barely scraping her skin with the tips of my fangs. She signs, and then melts into my arms like ice in the summer sun.

I have nothing more to say.

~ Vlad

 

Romantic Lovers

This picture isn’t really Vlad and Gillian but just for today you can pretend it is. For the complete  Vlad’s Vampire Diary CLICK HERE.

Short Story Sunday: Fallen

Fallen

“Oh man, I wish we could turn into bats like in the movies. That would make things a lot easier.”

Max leaned against the kitchen counter listening to his friend Pierce. It had been a rough night for the hunters of shadows – the Vampires who were dedicated to keeping their world safe for both Vampires and those they lived among.

“Do you think she’ll be alright? I didn’t say anything in the car. You know how sensitive she is.”

Max poured himself another glass of wine. “She’ll be fine, eventually. I’ve seen her through worse. Mehitabel has seen herself through worse.”

“Mehitabel won’t tell you if anything is wrong. Come on Max, she took on…” Peirce paused.

“A fallen angel. Sure, and some people call us fallen angels. They have no idea. We’re just physically different. The fallen angels are pure evil.”

“So is the poison that entered our friend, your lover.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Bullshit Max. That is total and complete bullshit.”

The sound of the shower upstairs turned off. Max put down his glass and went to check on his friend.

Mehitabel sat on his bed, her hair dark and wet around her shoulders. She wore one of his robes, a burgundy colored brushed silk.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he said stepping close putting his hand on her cool cheek.

“Not good. Sort of weird, like someone broke my heart, but I don’t know how or why or who. It wasn’t him.”

Max started to pull the robe open.

“Not tonight Max. Please I don’t want to have sex with you or anyone right now, alright.”

“Mehitabel, I don’t want to… I… just let me look.” He pulled open the robe to see the large gash going from the top of her left shoulder down her arm almost to her elbow. The ugly wound had sealed but it was far from being healed. She winced as he touched it. An ugly blackness outlined the edges of the tear.

He put his hand over the wound. At first she tried to pull away but as he whispered words in an ancient language of their people the pain started to leave her arm. Then he bent over and kissed her shoulder. The blackness turned to a pale red. “I came to give, not to take.”

Tears filled her eyes as she lay back on the bed. Max lay next to her and put his arms around her. “Sleep. It is the best thing you can do. I’ll be up later. Nothing can hurt you here, not while Pierce and I are with you.”

Downstairs Pierce had turned on the TV. “Giants lost today. How is she?”

“Not good. I’m going to sleep with her tonight. Just sleep and be there.”

Max and Pierce stayed up to watch ESPN to get their minds off of the past 48 hours.

Mehitabel lay in bed, her fangs ready as she looked out at the creature standing on the window ledge. “You cannot hurt me here. You cannot have me.”

It looked like a man, but she could see the flicker of the forked tail in the dark and the fold of leathery wings above his shoulders.

He smiled an angelic smile of pure bliss and beauty, then mouthed the words, “You’re mine. You. Are. Mine.”

At the sound of the door opening the dark being vanished. Max crawled under the covers bedside her. “Just because, just because we’re the way we are, and because I can’t give you… it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

She didn’t respond. She was too busy watching and waiting as she looked into the darkness outside the window.

~ End

Short Story Sunday: Being Real (An Austin and Elizabeth Story)

“Not once have I missed my old way of life.”

In the early morning light, at a small table by the window, in the neighborhood coffee shop, Elizabeth listened to her friend. She guessed she could call him a friend. They’d known each other for over a hundred years. He was still wearing a dark formal suit, his cashmere coat and silk scarf folded on a chair next to him. She was wearing jeans, with a pink sweater over a button up white shirt. He could pass for a Vampire. She could pass for just another pretty girl having coffee with a handsome but weird friend.

“Where were you last night Sebastian?”

He smiled a lovely Vampire smile with only a hint of fang for his friend. “Nowhere and everywhere. I was headed for a party and ended up with a flat tire in a dark alley that smelled like urine and garbage. I found myself at the doorstep of a club featuring a jazz band. They were improvising. The way they were dressed, and the way they acted reminded me of the clubs in France. You know, the ones that were part of the resistance, sort of zoot suits and crazy dancing. They were young, mostly white with some East Asians, a few black kids, a beautiful Mexican girl dressed like Freda Kahlo…you aren’t listening to a word I’ve said.”

Elizabeth looked him straight in the eye. “It was a diverse group. We live in a diverse city. Benjamin was part of that group in France after the German’s came in, no before they came in. Remember? God, you two were tight. What happened to him?”

“He was captured and put to death. Actually he killed himself before he let them, the Nazis, touch him and send him off for experiments and… I miss him. I thought Bernadette would die when she heard. I didn’t see her for years after. She joined a group of hunters. It wasn’t like her, but sometimes one must go beyond their comfort zones.”

“Where is she now?”

“London. She owns an art gallery specializing in Degenerate Art. She called it Benjamin’s Lush Gallery. An odd name but it works. She is really happy. I’m happy for her.”

“I’m happy for her too, but now I feel sad. Poor Ben.”

“You always feel sad. You should come out with me. Be a real Vampire again. It will do you a world of good.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Sounds like fun. Maybe later this week if you’re open. Love you Sebbie. I have to go.” She kissed him on his cold smooth cheek and started to leave. Sebastian grabbed her hand.

“Are you still with your lover?”

“No. He wants to be with me but…,” Elizabeth started but Sebastian cut her off.

“No buts. It doesn’t matter that he is not a Vampire. If he loves you, then rejoice in your time together. He knows who and what you are.”

“No Sebastian, you don’t understand.”

“Elizabeth, he brought your smile back.”

She kissed him again and dropped his hand, then left without turning back.

Walking through the neighborhood she wished she had a dog. Maybe she’d go to the shelter on Tuesday, or look on Craigslist for a dog. She kept so calm and cool for so long. It was difficult to keep so much control for such a long time. Now she lived in a world of normal people with warm blood, and short lives. Everything made her sad, or maybe it was just that nothing made her happy.

She arrived at her front door and checked her watch. It was 7:34 a.m. Early but not too early. Sitting on her front porch step she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Before she could hang up he answered.

“Elizabeth,” he said, as if surprised. Of course he was surprised. She hadn’t talked to him in months.

“Hi, Austin.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

“I love you Austin. I love you so much, and so true, and with my entire unbeating heart.”

“Are you home?”

“Yes. I’m home. Come over.”

“I’ll be over in 45 minutes. I love you.”

“Don’t be late.”

She put the phone in her pocket and sat for a bit. The neighbor’s orange cat Hector came by and rubbed against her legs. Small birds shuttled around in the trees. Elizabeth rubbed the cat’s head and went inside.

Going into the kitchen she went to the refrigerator and poured a tall glass of blood and downed it. Then she rinsed her mouth out and waited for Austin, and for her undead life to start.

~ end

For all of the continuing Austin and Elizabeth series CLICK HERE. 

Tangled Tales

 

 

 

Monsters In Love

Love posts for Valentine’s Day

Vampire Maman

Halloween Love Letters

While taking clothes out of the dryer I found a crisp folded piece of notepaper with a note, written with a red Sharpie.

Dear Garrett,
I don’t think you understand how you tear my heart apart. You don’t do anything. You just are. You drive me crazy. You act so cool and I know how you put on a mask. Everyday is Halloween for you.  Stop being so afraid of being yourself. I love you – you idiot.
Ione

Sigh. Seventeen year old Garrett has been writing love letters to girls since he was six years old.  Now girls are writing them to him too. He has known Ione almost his entire life but they just started dating last Spring. If they make it as a couple or not, I’m sure they’ll always be friends – I have a feeling they will (they’re both Vampires.)  So I…

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Short Story Sunday: I’ll Take Care of You

The headache was real. He opened his eyes and squinted at the sun coming through the window and tried to remember what had happened the night before.

“Oh you’re up. Look at the sunlight. Tell me how you feel.”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Do you feel alive?”

He looked at her sitting in a navy blue wingback chair wearing nothing but a smile and black silk stockings held up by red garters. He thought of her as a girl, not from her age but by the way she acted. She had been cute for a while but the cuteness became annoying and practiced.

He got out of bed and looked for his robe. She watched him with a smile on her face that was part wonder and part greed. Memories started to come back. Against his better judgement he’d taken her home and to his bed. Then she’d poured something she said was wine, but it obviously wasn’t.

“What did we drink last night?”

“What did you drink Andrew darling. I gave you an elixir to life. I gave you a tonic of love. I gave you light and love?”

He didn’t even respond. The sooner he got her out of his house and made coffee the better. Finding his robe he headed to the kitchen.

“Do you feel different?” She got up and followed him down the stairs.

“Other than feeling like shit?”

“Today is your new birthday. You’re mortal again.”

It suddenly occurred that she’d given him some sort of potion. “Jen, I can’t be cured. There was nothing wrong with me.”

“You were a Vampire.”

“I’m still a Vampire.”

“You’re walking in the sunlight. See it comes through the windows and you aren’t burning.”

“I’ve always been able to walk in the sunlight. Whatever you gave me didn’t work. It never works anymore than me giving you something that would turn you into a dog.”

“Give me a chance and I’ll take care of you Andrew,” she said clutching at his arms.

He pried off her hands and whispered under his breath, “Yes, and I’ll make sure to take care of you.”

Escorting her to the door, the Vampire told her to not come back – but he knew she’d try. Jen never took no for an answer. He compared her to a bad rash, that is if he’d ever had a bad rash.

Nobody would believe her tall tales of dating a Vampire. She was a groupie, a fan, a follower who didn’t know how to be an adult or find real love. It wasn’t like he always knew how to find real love, but at least he wasn’t going to let anyone change him for it.

Picking up the phone he made a call. “You know, I really don’t have the stomach for killing her right now. Any suggestions?”

His friend paused on the other end of the line then said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her.”

After getting off the phone Andrew made a blood and strawberry smoothie hoping it would clear out some of the toxic effects of whatever the Hell Jen had given him.

Jen told everyone her family had always been around Vampires, kind of sort of, but she’d just discovered her ability to pick them out about 10 years ago. She’d clamped onto Andrew about a year back after seeing him sing with one of her favorite bands at a local club. She’d spotted him and found out all of the details about his life through mutual friends. Her immaturity was charming at first and kind of cute but now it just grated on Andrew. He ran his hands through his hair and wondered why he’d brought her home last night. Oh right, blood and sex. That always does it.

Then again, Jen thought life should be a cross between a Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie and Twilight. Holy crap. The woman was delusional.

Jen sat alone in her San Francisco apartment and thought about her beautiful Vampire lover. Giggling at the thought of his cool skin and hot kisses and wonderful techniques as a lover. He knew all the tricks. She imagined living with him in his beautiful St. Francis Woods home.

Last night she’d offered him not just her body but her blood as well. Last of all she offered her heart. As far as she was concerned that was a sealed deal. She was part of him now. He’d never get rid of her.

A year passed and Andrew had all but forgotten about that night with Jen. Occasionally one of his friends would bring up the story of the toxic brew and laugh about it.

“Don’t laugh, it could have ruined my voice,” Andrew would tell them half serious and half joking.

“What ever happened to her?” They would always ask. Andrew would just shrug.

A hundred miles away, locked in a room with no sharp objects Jen sat rocking on the bed speaking of her Vampire lover and how he’d return for her. Andrew said something under his breath about taking care of her. So she waited not knowing that he already taken care of her, quite nicely.

 

~ End

 

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Vampire Diary: Dye Vampire Dye

Dear Diary,

I heard a knock upon my door. I was not expecting a visitor.

Upon my threshold stood my neighbor, the teenager Kylee. In her hand was a large padded envelope. She smiled.

Then she spoke in her odd way, as if all statements are questions. “This was in our mailbox. Vampire King? You’re too cute to be a vampire.” She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

On the envelope was written, Vlad, Vampire King. Then the address of my home. The sender had the sanity not to write Vlad’s Castle or other such outdated nonsense.

“It is an endearment,” I said as I took the envelope.

“I was thinking more of maybe a Cosplay thing.”

I just smiled slightly to be polite and not seem ignorant. I do not know what this Cosplay thing is.

How can one be too cute to be Vampire King? I still do not understand this cute. Cute can mean power because all living humans are drawn to cute. Living humans are drawn to me as well through my seductive powers as a vampire but I do not understand why being such as a baby or kitten would make women think of me.

“Too cute?” I asked the girl. “How is one too cute?”

She laughed in that unapologetic way teenage girls of this century laugh. “You’re all honey blonde, and that dimple is adorable.”

Adorable. Now the Vampire King is adorable. I am constantly confused by these people.

The girl Kylee laughed out loud again and left to her own home.

I need blood. And aspirin.

~ Vlad

 

———————-

 

Dear Diary,

I will not dye my hair black to become a serious vampire. The thought crossed my mind for a brief second. Maybe an hour or two. What is wrong with me? I used to rule an empire and now my biggest concern is Clairol or L’Oreal.  I will remain cute, along with my cats.

~ Vlad

 

——————————

 

Dear Diary,

I looked up the definition of adorable.

a·dor·a·ble
əˈdôrəb(ə)l/
adjective
inspiring great affection; delightful; charming.
“she looked just adorable”
synonyms: cute, lovable, appealing, charming, cuddly, sweet, enchanting, bewitching, captivating, engaging, endearing, dear, darling, delightful, lovely, beautiful, attractive, gorgeous, winsome, winning, fetching.

I can accept captivating, attractive, gorgeous, and enchanting. Those descriptions are true of me. I can accept beautiful. I may even be fetching, though I do not know if fetching can apply to one who is male. I am not winsome or cuddly. I am sexually appealing. No woman, or man if I wish, could resist my seduction, but I am not cuddly. Cuddly. No. This English language and these people make my head spin. If I had more blood in my body I would be on the floor with the brain whirling sickness.

I opened the envelope marked Vampire King and reviewed the contents once again. I have reviewed these contents many times over the past two days. I think of what Kylee said to me.

Cosplay. First I thought it was a band of musicians but that would be Coldplay. I do not know what that means, but it is not the same thing as Cosplay. I heard them sing their songs when I turned on the radio in my car. It was not to, how do they say, to my taste.

Then I thought of Cosplay. I asked my lover Gillian who is as old as I am but has lived longer in this modern world in which I have found myself. It is when grown people dress up like imaginary people, but it is not a masquerade or the holiday they call Halloween. I do not understand why they do this. Why would a person dress as something they are not?

Then I looked at the contents of the envelope again.

Inside was a note, along with a handkerchief of old silk which was falling apart to the touch. The lace edges were as delicate as morning spider webs, or the hair of an infant. A once red stain turned brown was on the corner. The letter V was embroidered on the corner.  That was once mine, a little over three hundred years ago. It was taken from me in the year 1715.

In the envelope was also a lock of hair, honey gold, tied with a black silk ribbon. It was mine, taken from my head. Unlike men of warm blood, most Vampires refused to wear wigs. I only wore my own hair, long and curled around my shoulders and down my back. I had the blood of others but I would not have their hair. Maybe one might call that cute, but I do not think so.

The note was rude and unclear.

 

Vlad, Vampire King,
We know where you are. Beware. You shall not rule again.
from, The Unknown Forces

 

This letter is what the teenage girl Kylee and her teenage friends would call bull-crap. Kylee would have said, “what a douche.”

The Unknown Forces. Who are these bull-crap douches? How dare they take my dirty laundry and hair and send it to me in an envelope. How dare they send veiled threats to me.

I no longer have my castle or army, but I have cats, and I have access to the power of teenagers, and I am cute.

~ Vlad

 


 

Dear Diary,

Those who send the envelope will be found. Those who sent the envelope will be taken care of. Or perhaps I will make them wait. I will not react. I will not do what they expect. I will not be a prisoner of their veiled threats.

With the moonlight through the window Gillian runs her hand through my golden hair. I gently push her onto the pillows and kiss her lips, flushed red with fresh blood in her veins and my attentions.

I have no worries this night. Tonight I do not miss being Vampire King, for I am glad to have Gillian capture my heart and keep me prisoner of her love.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Click here for all of Vlad’s Vampire Diary entries.