Vampire Diary: Hot Mess

Dear Diary,

Today I walked to the end of the street to pick up my mail. My cats and Jane the coyote pup followed me.

A group of teenage girls sat on the front porch of the house nearest the mail box. They waved to me.

“Oh my God, Vlad you’re so cute with your cats and the pup,” said one of them.

I smiled minus my fangs. The girls giggled. They find me attractive but I do not know what is cute about a man with board shoulders and almost six feet of height. Cats are cute. Puppies are cute. I have yet to understand what this cute word means. They also call me sexy, but not to my face. They do not call cats or coyotes sexy. That makes more sense to me. My lover Gillian told me not to think about it and to stop being silly. I am not silly.

As I looked through my mail, mostly letters from other vampires, I could hear the girls talk. One said a friend of hers was a hot mess. Hot mess?

So I said, “I could not help but overhear your conversation. What do you mean by hot mess.”

They all laughed out loud. Some laughed with high pitched voices. One had a laugh that was low and rough, but not unpleasing. One laughed like a woman ready to seduce and rule the world.

I repeated myself. “Sweet ladies, you know I am not from here. Please, what is a hot mess? Is it something you eat?”

They laughed again. Then one girl, the one with the low and rough laugh answered. “A hot mess is when someone tries to look good and ends up looking like a disaster. They’re just a hot mess.”

“I see. That is amusing,” I said. “Am I hot mess?”

They giggled. Then one said, “You’re just hot.”

Then they giggled some more and didn’t stop.

They then talked among themselves and I heard one say no sheets Sherlock. I wondered what was meant by that. I did not ask. I told the girls goodbye and winked at them. They giggled some more, and as my pets and I walked away I could hear them talk about me, but not in an unflattering way.

That night I asked my lover Gillian about Sherlock. “Darling, who is Sherlock and why does he not have sheets? Does he sleep on the ground or in a hammock? Why would young girls be speaking of such a person?”

Gillian smiled and kissed me. “I love you Vlad but…”

“Gillian dear, I was sealed in a crypt for three hundred years. I am still learning the strange language and customs of modern life,” I said to her.

“Vlad, Sherlock Holmes is a fictional detective. The first story about him came out in 1887. You were still locked in the crypt. Sherlock’s adventures became extremely popular, and his character, and versions of the character are still popular. The term is No Shit Sherlock.

“Does he not poop like most people?”

“Yes, he poops. I assume he poops. It isn’t covered in the stories. The term No Shit Sherlock is used when somebody says something incredibly obvious.”

“Like I say being locked in a crypt is a bad thing. Then you say No Shit Sherlock.”

“Exactly Vlad.”

“Do not say I am not learning anything.”

Then she kissed me again. And again. And again.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight I went to a pub where I am known and liked. I do this so that I can get blood with ease. I am not one of those vampires who likes to crawl through windows. I would rather have a glass of wine and talk with my dinner companions a bit.

The bartender is a woman named Cassie. We talked for a while then she noticed my satchel.

“Oh my goodness. You brought your cat tonight. Bring her out,” said Cassie.

I took the purring cat out of the bag. Cassie said we were cute. Always cute. My world is nothing but cute. Yet, I am happy when Cassie and my cat are happy. After many women and men came over to pet the cat and call it cute, the cat crawled back into the bag and fell asleep. I visited with Cassie more. She told me about her graduate studies. She is brilliant.

Then a man sits down next to me. “Vlad. You are Vlad.”

I look at him. He is tall and thin, with dark wavy hair pulled back into a tail like the teenage girls who live on my street. His brown eyes are hidden behind large black framed glasses. The teenage girls might find him attractive. I find him to be what they call a hot mess.

“Yes,” I say. “My name is Vlad. What is your name, and how do you know mine?”

He grins, a wide grin with perfect straight white teeth. “I know you’re a vampire Vlad.”

“Cute maybe,” I say. “A vampire, I do not think so.”

“I was told on good authority that you know where the high counsel of the vampires meet. I hear you used to be their king.”

“You are mad,” I told him.

I walked out to the street. He followed me and called out after me. “Vlad, I’m not a vampire hunter. I’m a scientist. I’m a journalist. I want to know the truth.”

I turned around to face him. “You seek the truth do you Kyle Gunner? That is your name. Yes, you seek parlor tricks so I just gave you one. You are excited and thrilled that I have stopped. Let me answer your question. There is no high council of vampires. That is, what do they call it, a plot device, a fictional bit of grandness to try to explain things you do not understand.”

He looked disappointed and puzzled. I continued to speak.

“Be a scientist Kyle Gunner and get the facts, if that is facts that you seek. Not alternate facts, but real facts.” He stood transformed so I continued to speak. “The facts are that if you speak out people will believe you to be insane. I advise you not go that route. Do not make memes of me either. No memes. I know you are recording this on your tiny magic telephone.” I held up my hand. “Now you are not recording me and it has all been deleted. I will tell you another thing Kyle Gunner. The reason we do not always show up in photographs is because we do not want to. It is the same reason paint flakes off of canvas and ink drawn to the likeness of a vampire fades on paper. It is because we do not want to be seen. Good night Kyle Gunner. Be thankful I was generous and charitable to you tonight. I may not be next time. One more word of advice. You are a hot mess. You need to do something about that.”

Then my cat put her head out of the bag and said, “Maaaaoooo.”

“That’s a cat. You have a cat in your man-bag,” said Kyle Gunner.

Then I said, “No shit Sherlock. Of course she is a cat. And this is a satchel, not a man-bag.” Then I snarled at him with my fangs and almost stopped his heart from fear.

I left him standing alone in the dark as other vampires watched, and waited from the shadows.

Then I heard one of the vampire women whisper to her friend, “Oh my God,  Vlad is sooooo cute.”

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I stand outside under the full moon watching the bats play at night. A large owl flies by. I hear a mocking bird call in the night. The wind blows gently and dances through my hair. Gillian comes behind me and puts her arms around me, then rests her head on the back of my shoulder.

For all of the confusion there are constants. I am in love, and I am cute. Those are two things which I am not sure I will ever understand.

~ Vlad

This is the 30th Vampire Diary Post. For more of Vlad’s Vampire Diary (from the beginning) CLICK HERE.

 

 

 

What We’re Talking About Today On the Way to School Today

Every since the election in June we’ve been regularly seeing heads explode as we drive along the road, especially in the morning hours. It makes a mess, but our roads are so bad around here that everyone just pretends to assume someone must have hit a pothole, or maybe it is aliens, or turkey vultures attacking suburban drivers…

As always, we listen to the news in the morning. I’ve grown sick of it and turn it out. My children do not. As wee ones they asked cute questions. Now as young adults they make bone chilling comments that make me wish that seventeen year olds could run for President, Congress, and the Senate, because they seem to be the only ones making any sense these days.

LBGT rights. Is there a problem with that? Why should anyone care? Don’t we just want everyone to be happy? LBGT families are like any other family. Parents love their children. Period. Here’s the deal. Married people pay more taxes. Period. See where this is going?

My kids often wonder why some people are so obsessed with the sex lives of others. It is all in the name of religion and morality. If you’re so moral then why are you so obsessed with sex? Why is your attitude so unhealthy. This is out of the mouths of teens. Of course if we’re talking down and dirty gossip then it is all good fun. Who doesn’t like to see the fall of a hypocrite caught in an affair after condemning others for their unmoral behavior? Who is anyone to judge? Especially those who do not even try to understand.

Yes, folks, this is why Vampires, Werewolves, and others keep to themselves. Don’t ask me how you can become one of us, and where our private clubs are because you’re not going to get an answer from me (or any of my friends.) Don’t hate me because I’m cold as death. Just hate me if I’m an asshole (which I hope I am not.) Or just hate me for using too many parenthesis in my writing, but not for my biology.

We discussed how THE WALL will be an environmental disaster among other things. The only ones dealing with walls should be Pink Floyd. The kids also keep asking about the Berlin wall. We all remember how that worked out.

I’ve made a list of news items and ratings from the teens I know:

Ivanka: NO

Grumpy Cat: Yes (even when she says NO) Yes, Grumpy Cat is a girl cat.

Coffee: Yes

AP Tests: Yes, but they still suck

Disneyland: Yes

The Lost City of Z: Yes

13 Reasons Why: Yes to both the book and the TV show

Old Men in Political Positions: NO

Botox: No

Squirrels: Yes (see link below to know why)

Cats: Yes

Dogs: Yes

Fiona the Hippo Baby: YES YES YES

Classical Art Memes: Yes

Canadians: Yes

French Election: WTF?

North Korea: No. And a sad face emoji for the people who live there.

Dentist Pulling a Tooth While on a Hoverboard: NO NO NO

Wells Fargo: WTF? Kids when you start a job don’t do that kind of shit. Not for anyone.

Anything in Washington DC: WTF?

Graduation Class of 2017: YES

Dutch Brothers: YES, even when there is a long line at the one street down from the high school.

Lists: Yes, because I’m not feeling inspired right now.

 

The conversation moved on to the dog who, despite her sweet nature, refuses to cooperate with any kind of training. She can do it. But she doesn’t want to. It is a power thing. Know any kids like this? Adults? Vampires? I bet you do too.

I might not be the biggest dog at the park but I’m going to make damned sure I have the biggest stick.

After dropping off the almost adult child I headed on over to the dog park. The big dog run was closed. The other dog run was full of HUGE (over 100 pounds) aggressive dogs. My young 85 pound German Shepard was dwarfed by these dogs. Of course she went NUTS. Sure I’m in touch with my paranormal side but it was almost too much for me to handle. I almost lost it. I went 0-60 in half a second from loving dogs to hating dogs. All dogs. Even my own dogs. And yes, right now mine is sleeping with her head on my foot as sweet as ever.

Text messages are fling in about a roller skate show tonight. Not at our club but at our sister club that my daughter’s partner skates out of. She and her partner are doing a new routine to Pink and Nate Ruess singing Just Give Me A Reason. They’re so beautiful skating (think Ice Dancing except on quad wheels.) Yes, teens are great.

I always thought Nate Ruess should be doing Broadway musicals. He has THAT kind of voice. Pink too. She is just WOW to me. I usually don’t like female singers (too breathy and high and whiney and I could go on and on) but she sings it.

Yes, I’m just rambling on today. Every have one of those days. In the back of my mind are sick and twisted stories of dark places with brick walls and black velvet curtains. There are howling winds along with howling wolves, shadows that look like ghouls with long twisted claws, and growls that could pass for satisfied purrs of lovers. You know, it is just one of those days when I just had to turn off the radio and turn off most of everything. I’m not as crazy bad as Chuck McGill in Better Call Saul but getting there.

Now for the Squirrel Story (not to be confused with the Squirrel Nut Zippers)

http://www.npr.org/sections/13.7/2017/04/25/525363273/what-s-it-like-to-be-squirrel

 

Did someone say coffee? Blood?

Oh right, and remember to talk with your kids – about anything and everything. You’ll have fun. They’ll appreciate it. You’ll be the cool parent. And you’ll find out how cool your kids really are. And it is good for everyone. So do it.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Vampire Diary: Music to My Ears (Broken Record Edition)

Dear Diary,

When one is imprisoned in a crypt for three hundred years one misses out on a lot of things. The past three hundred years went fast and were full of wonders which I missed being hellishly locked in a dark damp coffin inside of an ivy covered crypt. I hate ivy.

There is so much that used to be that I have not seen. Entire centuries and now dead technologies, fashions, and ways of life have vanished before I could know what they were but everyone aside from me knows what these things are, even if they were not born before these things happened.

Two days ago someone said he sounds like a broken record.

What did he mean. Did his numbers not match up? I asked.

I was told that he repeated himself.

“What is this record of,” I asked.

“It could be anything, I don’t know,” said the woman I was speaking with.

“I do not understand. Is it software such as an Excel spreadsheet?” I asked this trying not to sound old fashioned and completely ignorant of popular culture.

“Records. Phonograph records,” she said. “You know, like vinyl?”

“Oh I am sorry. I must have misunderstood you. The noise in this place interferes with my hearing,” I said to her. Then I looked into her eyes and made her forget everything except her desire to have me put my lips upon her neck and sink my teeth into her flesh and drink her blood.

We left and went to her apartment. She was lovely. But I could not help wondering why anyone would be concerned with keeping poor records of something called phonographs and how they would compare to a man who keeps repeating himself. I left her asleep with a smile on her face, and about a pint less blood and no memories of my bite.

Few automobiles were on the road as I drove home. I thought about my car that allows me to play thousands of songs, talk on the phone, and tell me directions from a small woman’s voice. I took the speed up to ninety-five miles per hour. I would talk my way out of a ticket because I am a Vampire and I can do that. Then I slowed down. I understand why people like cars. I understand the power. I listened to opera music in my car and sang along. It made me happy and less confused.

It was 3:34 a.m. when I stopped to obtain gasoline for my car. When I was outside I could hear two women standing by their car. I could hear one saying, “Damn he is one hot looking man.”

I did not feel hot. I am a Vampire. I never feel hot. Putting my hand on my forehead I could feel no sweat. I do not sweat. I do not understand.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I spoke with my Vampire lover Gillian about what is a record. She did not roll her eyes but I knew she had the burning desire to.

“Dear Vlad, it is not an accounting record or ledger. It is a disk that music is recorded on. It is a recording. It is a disk made of vinyl that came out before the digital stuff you listen to now. When a record is scratched it skips, which means it repeats the same part of the song over and over. That my darling is where the expression broken record comes from,” she told me.

“How should I have known? Show me what this record looks like,” I said.

She went to YouTube, one of my sources for information about this confusing modern world, and found a recording of a record playing the Ramones. I know the Ramones. I have a See Dee.

 

Gillian started to explain the Addams Family but then she stopped and just smiled. I am sure sometimes she thinks I am an idiot.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today I took Jane the coyote pup to the dog park. A dog park is a place for dogs to run and play with each other. Jane is wild but not so wild. She has the body of a coyote but the soul of a Werewolf. No matter. She is now a member of my household.

I was told coyotes are not allowed as pets. At the dog park I was asked if Jane was a coyote.

I said, “no, she is a Scottish Squirrel Hound and Moon Shepherd mix.” I almost laughed at my own joke.

One of the women, one with a large black and white dog of mixed lineage looked at Jane and me and said, “you two are so adorable together.”

I smiled and wondered what her blood type was. Adorable. I believe that means cute. I do not understand how a strong Vampire man with broad shoulders and a coyote can be cute. Then again she did not know that I am a Vampire.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight Gillian and I went to dinner at a local pub. It is a place we frequent where people freely mingle and listen to bands that play music that is for folks, called folk music. Sometimes they play punk music, and punk pop, and assorted things I do not understand but strangely like.

Many people were there. Because we are Vampires the people are naturally attracted to Gillian and me. Gillian is also gorgeously beautiful. Heads turned as we walked about. One gets used to it but it is not as it used to be, but I can not explain. I do not have the words for such an expression. People now are forward in expressing their feelings. Also, I am no longer a Vampire King so I am just an ordinary man when I am out. It is in a way a freeing experience not to have people afraid to speak freely around me.

A server slipped at something on the floor as she brought a tray of wine glasses to a table. I suddenly found myself covered with red wine. How odd that I was the one who looked like I was covered in blood. I am so neat. I am getting good at this joke thing.

She said she was so sorry but I told her that I was not mad. I wanted to make sure she was not distressed. Putting my hand on her arm I calmed her with thoughts of, well, of me. The bartender told me to give him my shirt and he’d put something on it to get the stains out before they set in. I can appreciate that. All Vampires appreciate stain removal. As I took off my shirt there was a gasp in the crowd. I ran my hand through my golden hair pushing it out of my eyes, then I put back on my leather jacket, but did not zip it up. The women in the pub, young and old, just smiled and stared.

“He looks like something out of a bodice ripper,” voices whispered. “Oh my God.”

“Bodice ripper?” I whispered to Gillian.

She put her hand on my bare chest. “A romance novel with a strong handsome extremely sexually attractive male. The cover art often shows a well-built man without a shirt on. It is called a bodice ripper because, well, when he makes love to the heroine of the story bodices are often ripped, you know, in the throes of passion.”

I had to smile. It was something like this picture, only it was not because the women were wearing skinny jeans or short skirts.

When I was young, before I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years, many Vampires were of the school of thought that we (Vampires) should terrify people we drank blood from.

They would lurk in the woods, and steal into homes at night with fangs out and dirty claw like finger nails. They walked with hunched shoulders. Their clothes were musty and never washed. They smelled of death with breath like rotting flesh. Sunken eyes frightened their prey. They pallid skin stretched tight over their bones. No wonder. They never got enough blood.

More enlightened Vampires, as with any enlightened being, realized that making one’s self appealing and semi-delightful always attracts more prey. Who would want to eat food that stinks? Who would want to make love to a skeleton? Who would not want to scream when something that looks and smells dead crawls into their bed in the middle of the night?

Bodice ripper. I laugh now.

The bartender gave me my shirt back with the stains washed out. I laughed and told him that it was no problem. We talked and he told me that his band was coming out with a record. They were going to put it on vinyl. I knew what he was talking about. I knew what that was. What is it that is said…small world. Yes, it is a small world.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I sat in the dark under the stars with my cats, Jane the coyote, and Gillian. We talked of how the world has changed, in both good and bad ways.

Then Gillian said, “Let’s pretend we’re in a bodice ripper novel.”

And we went inside and did exactly that.

I like these bodice rippers. I like them a lot. What is that expressions. Ahhh yes, music to my ears.

~ Vlad. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Male Bonding

Hot flashes. Andy’s girlfriend had been having horrible hot flashes. When you date Vampire women you don’t have to worry about that. On the other hand Vampire women were, well, a bit cold. He laughter at his own joke. Damn, there was nothing sexier than a smart middle-aged woman.

Unfortunately Shawna of the Hot Flashes wasn’t at his house this weekend. This was a weekend of male bonding. This was a weekend of cold powerful Vampire testosterone.

Coffee – check. Bacon – check. Cats fed – check. A man screaming…

Was that glass breaking? Someone yelled, “HEY. What the crap?”

Andy ran upstairs to find his nephew Garrett in the hallway. They look at each others with wide eyes and ran together into the bedroom room his other nephew Logan was in.

Wild colors spun around the bed – a crazy halo of nasty creatures with big eyes and transparent wings.

Logan lay on the bed batting his hands at the onslaught.

“Stop. NOW,” yelled Andy.

The creatures stopped mid-air and lined up on the footboard of the bed. They crossed their little legs and smoothed out their skirts. One of them giggled. Andy gave her a death look then she slapped her hand over her mouth and snorted. Then they all started to giggle.

“Damn Fairies.”

The night before they’d gone out to a rave the night before. His sister would kill him for bringing her almost nineteen year old son along but he’d take his chances. The kids needed a night of dancing, booze and blood. Logan, at the ripe old age of twenty-four was an experienced Vampire and officially an adult. Sure, his mom would be pissed off too but Andy really didn’t care. The boys needed to live and be men – Vampire men.

All females had been banned from the house that weekend. Sure it had been tempting to bring a few home last night but Andy had resisted.

Now he stood in front of a line of sixteen giggling little sickening sweet females, with glossimer wings no less.

“Ladies, you need to go,” said Andy.

“Andy, you’re so cute when you’re angry,” said one of the fairies, a lovely vision in a yellow dress.

“Sing us a song Andy,” said the one wearing pink.

“And coffee,” said the one in sparkling white.

“No coffee,” said Andy.

“Coffee,” they all screeched and then swirled around Logan again trying to bite him with their sharp little teeth. Andy and Garrett jumped in trying to knock the fairies away but they continued to bite and scratch.

Andy threw up his hands, “FINE but you have to share cups.”

The fairies stopped and flew downstairs to the kitchen.

Andy looked at his nephews, “I hate fairies.”

“They seem to like you,” said Logan who was inspecting the scratches on his arms.

“Lucky me,” said Andy.

Downstairs they found the fairies drinking coffee out of antique Dresden china cups.

“If any of those cups are broken there will be consequences. Do you understand ladies?”

The fairies scowled at him in unison. Then they demanded bacon and cookies. He didn’t have any cookies so they got apples. Damn fairies.

As the guys settled down for basketball Andy set the fairies up in his office. They all sat in front of his computer screen yelling in their high little voices, “The Notebook. Play the Notebook.”

It was always The Notebook.

Back in the den with baseball was on Logan looked up at his uncle. “So Andy, what’s the deal with the fairies?”

“I don’t know. They like me. Don’t ask me why.”

So much for being the big macho alpha Vampire male. On the other hand girls liked hanging out with him. His nephews should be so lucky…well, maybe.

 

Fairy

 

First posted in 2015 when Shawna was still in the picture. I’ve been swamped, but will have more new adventures, parenting stuff, musings, and general Vampire stuff soon.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

How to Keep Vampires Away (what REALLY works)

halloween-pinup

 

I can’t imagine anyone wanting to keep Vampires away. But if you do want to keep anyone from sucking your blood (aside from the IRS and DMV) get the facts.

Forget anything you’ve heard about garlic. You’d be surprised how many Vampires live in Gilroy. I have not one, but two jars of garlic stuffed olives in my refrigerator at home. I can’t imagine a lemon vodka Martini without one.

And forget religion. That won’t help you either. Sure you can pray, but a Vampire wants what a Vampire wants. Sure we’re not all that comfortable in churches. We know we’re not altogether welcome, but a cross, holy water, chants, prayer shawls or other items of faith will not keep us away.

Silver will not kill Vampires or keep us away. Holy Thanksgiving Table Setting, what would I do without my set of Kirk & Sons Repousse Sterling Silver, or my silver candle sticks. That is yet another myth. Of course silver bullets will stop a Werewolf, but if you shoot just about anything in the heart with a silver tipped high-explosive incendiary/armor-piercing ammunition they’ll die. Well, unless it is a ghost or a large dinosaur (think T-Rex.)

The silver thing is yet another myth put out by Witches wishing to corner the precious metals and fine candle stick market. Excuse me, if you want precious metals your best bet is always a reputable Vampire.

Sunlight and reflections from mirrors don’t work either. If I look directly into your eyes (or mine) in a mirror I can the reflection just fine. You’ll see it just fine as well. Now if you break a mirror and try to stab a Vampire in the heart with the shard or cut off it’s head, well, that is just rude. Sure we tend to be light sensitive, some of us more than others, but if we’re really hungry it isn’t going to stop us. Then again, is you’re an asshole about it and start flashing light we’re just going to leave because we’re annoyed. Either that or we’ll stay and give you nightmares for the rest of your life.

What REALLY keeps Vampires away?

We all have our personal preferences.

I asked my kids and my daughter said, “Kim Kardisian’s voice would do it for me.” Very funny kids. But true. The man child agreed, then gave a gravely laugh as young men do.

If you’re still worried about Vampires here are the top THREE things that will keep us away.

Vic’s Vapor Rub

Slather the smelly stuff all over your neck and chest. Yes, even the thought of the stuff repels me and makes me want to drop the biggest F bombs of all time. This is the one sure fire way to keep Vampires away. The smell repulses Vampires and the taste…oh it is vile. No Vampire will invade your space or bite you with Vic’s. Then again it will also turn off anyone else who might want to visit you at night.

Werewolves

Dogs won’t keep us away but Werewolves definitely will. They tend to get nasty when one of us comes around for dinner. Sure Vampires and Werewolves can be friendly. I have friends who are Werewolves. But seriously, if a Vampire is looking for blood they will go somewhere else if Werewolves are in the vicinity.

Pregnancy

Vampires DO NOT like the blood of pregnant women. Yes, we’re more accurate than 99.9% of pregnancy tests on the market.

My brother Val, aka Mr. Sophisticated Cool, has a seedier side to his nights. He isn’t above the occasional prowl down to the darker sides of life where there are many more needles than Vampire fangs. He’ll spend a night enjoying toxic cocktails of poisoned blood, but if he finds himself with a pregnant woman’s blood in his system he’ll be puking it up all night long.

Yes, a pregnant woman’s blood makes Vampires sick. Male Vampires become violently ill from the stuff. So if you’re wondering what to expect when you’re expecting – don’t expect Vampires.

 

Now you know. Have fun, and be careful.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

But then there are always those disturbing images you just can't get out of your head.

But then there are always those disturbing images you just can’t get out of your head.

 

 

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

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