Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Last Call

Dear Diary,

When one is a Vampire one is not as fragile as those who walk the Earth with fragile hearts pumping hot blood and thoughts of love. 

I attempt to be poetic but even that alludes me today.

My Vampire love Gillian is traveling and will not be home until late tonight. I feel an unease even for a Vampire. It is that odd dread remembered from my childhood. We were not in danger but everyone else was.

I decided to go down to Cassie’s bar. It is not called that. My closest warm blooded human friend Cassie owns the bar. Sitting with her and watching the other patrons would knock me out of my melancholia. I called my friend Randolpho to come join me but he said he was unavailable.

Randolpho quickly stopped talking on the phone which was quite unusual. He gave me no details to where he might be going or what he might be doing. Maybe he was in the middle of a meal. I do not know. One should never bother a Vampire who is in the middle of the meal.

Cassie greeted me at the bar with a bright smile. Her eyes were sad. The only other humans working were her helpers Kate and Diego. They were busy cleaning and making small talk with the few customers who lingered spread out in the usually crowded space.

I noticed a coldness not usually there. Everyone in the bar, except for a group of four friends at the end of the bar were Vampires or others who are not in danger due to human mortal illnesses.

A couple of ghosts sat at a table by the window. One had a shot of some unknown spirit, while the other hovered over a glass of red wine. They were dressed in the fine clothing they were buried in and did not look around as they held their glasses with transparent hands and took in the aromas of the drinks.

Several Vampires, for it was mostly Vampires there, sat at a booth in the back. I went over to see them.

“What is the worst pandemic you’ve seen Vlad?” my friend Constantine asked.

“The Black Death arrived in Europe when I was a child of three years,” I said. “One of my first memories is adults speaking of it, and of the rats and piles of bodies. There was a great fear our main food source would be gone.”

“Was it bad where you were Vlad?” That was asked by Lily a young Vampire woman.

“No, not in the Vampire Kingdom. My father sealed the borders far from where our warm blooded citizens lived,” I said. “We thought that would be the last of it. I remember at the time I was kidnapped and thrown into a crypt another smaller plague was in Europe. So much for traveling out of my own country.”

A Vampire named Valentine spoke of a cholera outbreak where he lived on the Northern coast taking entire families out. He left, not daring to weaken any of those still living with his own needs. Before he left he helped tend to those who were ill since he was immune to cholera.

“We are not ghouls,” said Lily. She took a sip of her drink and then wiped a tear from her pretty face.

My friends spoke of pandemics I had missed while I was locked away. They lost friends due to the Spanish flu, more plagues, Yellow Fever, and HIV. In fairy stories warm blooded humans write of Vampires turning the sick into Vampires, but it does not work that way. The sick do not survive the turning. They are not strong enough for conversions, so we do our best to nurse them or give them a comfortable death.

A lone Demon, uncomfortable in his own skin, sat alone with a beer, pulling with the collar of his flannel shirt. He looked like any other thirty year old man, but I knew his mouth was full of poison and underneath his shirt were leathery wings. I also knew, that like most demons, it was not an existence he savored. Being vile to the core takes a harsh toll on any creature.

Cassie rang a bell and yelled out, “LAST CALL.” It was only 9:30 but I could tell she was weary and done for the night.

An hour later we dispersed. That included the Ghosts and the sad looking Demon.

“I will walk with you to your house,” I said to Cassie.

She smiled at me and we put on our coats. I must now mention that before I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years, only to be rescued six years ago, I never used an umbrella to keep rain off. It was just not done. We had no umbrellas in the Vampire Kingdom. It is an amazing device. Cassie and I shared the dry space underneath an umbrella on the walk to her house.

“This all makes me uneasy,” said Cassie. “I am worried about my grandmother. I’m worried about my parents. I’m worried about my business.”

“Do not worry about your business. You have Vampires to help you out.”

“I don’t want to take charity,” she told me.

I said, “Cassie, it is not charity. Even Vampires need someplace to go where everybody knows your name.”

Cassie laughed and squeezed my arm. I do not know why. I did not think my comment was funny or of the arm squeezing variety.

My friend Randolpho was standing on her porch wearing one of his ridiculous hats.

Then I noticed the way he looked at Cassie. Then I noticed the way Cassie looked at Randolpho. Could it be? Perhaps? Maybe?

Cassie tossed her hair back and pushed it back showing her neck. Randolpho put out his hand and then Cassie put her hand in his. Then he kissed her on the cheek.

Sometimes a woman needs a man who will bite her neck and tell her sweet things. Sometimes when times are tough, and we are told to be alone, maybe it is good to have a Vampire around.

As I walked away, a smile on my face, I could hear Cassie sing a line from a song I do not know, “You can leave your hat on.” Then I heard Randolpho laugh as they went through the door.

I will have to look that song up.

When I arrived at home Gillian was there to greet me with a cold kiss and bright eyes. I held on to her for the rest of the night.

~ Vlad

 

Big Hat

Randolpho and his tall hat which he rarely takes off.

 

This has been the 57th instillation of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read the entire series from the beginning CLICK HERE. This is the only one that is not outrageously funny.

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Cats, Confusion, and Chainsaws

Dear Diary,

I brought my cats to the dog park today. They did not enjoy it. Next time my cats and I will go someplace else.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

When I was the Vampire King and ruled my Vampire Kingdom it was no secret that I was a Vampire. After being forcibly locked in a crypt for three hundred years, then finding out that my country AND my castle are no longer in existence, I also find that I must hide the fact that I am a Vampire.

When I was the Vampire King I made sure the many plagues that ravaged Europe and Asia did not come across the borders of my kingdom. I made sure the lands and water were clean. My people were healthy. As the King of Vampires I had to make sure my food supply was not contaminated.

Now, if in causal conversation, someone mentions health care it all seems obvious to me. Healthy people means healthy Vampires. How difficult is that? Unfortunately that is an opinion I do not express to others. I either change the conversation, or get the person I am talking to in a quiet dark place and bite their neck. Neck biting usually stops a conversation quite nicely. A wrist bit works almost as well, but sometimes I just need to quickly make them stop talking and bite their neck.

At the time of the plagues I commanded an army of Vampires, and those who were not Vampires. These were loyal followers. I refused to have slaves or soldiers bound to me through fear.

At the highway they waited and checked those who came through. The sight of a Vampire army kept most out. That is an obvious point even in the 1600’s. It was a long time ago but we were not stupid. There are times when I feel stupid now, having missed three centuries. That is neither here nor there. My army stood tall upon shining black horses, their hair in the wind, completely controlled, never in their faces, fangs barred, muscles flexed, eyes burning bright as a warning to those who would enter carrying the plague.

So they waited, but since my kingdom was the Vampire Kingdom, we had few visitors because most outside people were more afraid of us than they were of the plague, so my Vampire guards partied like it was 1699. No damage was done, and my reputation as an effective and fearless leader was not compromised.

I asked my friend Randolpho if the plague was still around.

“Not that one,” he told me. Then he went on a trip down his memories lane, which is more like a highway when he starts to talk, about that time the guards guarded the Vampire highway. “My hair was down to my waist back then. Holy crap Vlad. Can you imagine that now?”

“You still wear silly hats,” I told him. Randolpho has always liked silly hats.

“It’s a top hat and it isn’t silly,” he said.

“You purchased it in 1856,” I told him.

“You were locked in a crypt in 1856 so you weren’t even around. By the way I have someone who makes them for me NOW. AND I have some of my old ones.”

I just looked at him with my most disgusted slightly snarling looks. I believe it is known as an Elvis lip curl. I will have to find out more about this Elvis person.

Randolpho shook his head. “Even at your age, at 675 years, and after all you’ve been through how can you still be so good looking?”

I smiled. “I believe the word you need to use is cute.” I think that was the correct response. I am always called cute though I am not sure what is meant by this word cute.

We talked more of the good old days which were actually only good if one happened to be a Vampire.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

All of my clothing turned pink. My love Gillian rolled her eyes at me and told me that I was not supposed to wash white items with red items. How was I to know one red shirt would turn everything pink?

I now am in a world in which machines do everything. I used to have an entire group of women who would wash my clothes. They washed everything by hand in large tubs. Now machines wash clothing with a touch of a button and a small pod full of soap.

Pod is something else I wonder about. I watched a movie, one of the older ones without color, in which evil Demons from another planet came to Earth and put people in pods. Then the Demons made themselves look like the people in the pods. It was as if they were Goblins switching their evil changelings for babies. I believe the Demons were called Aliens. I do not remember it all. I do remember that it was both confusing and terrifying. Pods.

I looked under my back deck to see if there were any pods. There were not.

I wondered if the pods in my washing machine might contain small creatures who cause my white clothes to turn pink or a murky gray. It would not surprise me. Nothing surprises me anymore.

People have walked on the moon. There blenders to whirl food and drink to death. There are chain saws. I like chain saws. They cut and are loud and do the work of many men. I have three chain saws. I have nothing to saw but I have chain saws. I feel like a real Vampire male with my chain saw.

One night I took off my shirt and called Gillian outside. I stood in the wind holding the chain saw as my golden hair gently blew back in the wind. I flashed her a bit of fang. My plan worked. It worked exceedingly well. I could say it was a cute plan.

I just remembered the movie was called Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

On some days I feel as if I was snatched and put away. I was for three centuries but not in a pod. I was in a crypt. I did not come back as an alien. I came back as myself, Vlad, no longer King of Vampires.

Then again, one does not need to be King when one has a chain saw, a washing machine, good friends, and cats.

That makes no sense but nothing makes sense to me, yet, here I am, still a Vampire. Still cute. One does not need to be King when one is cute. I still rule my world.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

This has been the 51st entry to Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read the entire Vlad’s Vampire Diary series from the beginning CLICK HERE.

2017-02-17-13-54-29

My friend Randolfo wearing one of his silly hats.

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Stories Old and New

Dear Diary,

This morning two beautiful women came to my door. They asked me if I had thought about death. I told them “Not lately.”

Then they asked me what happens to us after we die.

I said, “If you’re lucky you’ll become a Vampire.”

They did not appreciate or understand my answer.

When the young men with white shirts and bicycles came later in the day I was perplexed.

“Why are you not in college, or learning a trade?” I ask them.

I tell them that they travel far from home but learn nothing of the world.

When I was young I traveled with my friend Randolpho to the great cities of Europe. We thought we knew everything when we left home, but soon discovered that we knew nothing. We saw our existence only from the viewpoint of the Vampires we were, and the Vampire culture we lived in. We had no reason to think there might be other ways to think about anything, or feel about anything.

I looked at the young men who had parked their bicycles at the end of my walkway. Then I said, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”

The boys stood in a stupor as if they knew not what to say. One would think I had shown them my fangs.

“You are but children,” I told them. At that point I saw a Demon sitting in the top branches of the oak tree in my front yard, stretching it’s leathery wings. So I slammed the door and left the young men alone, on my front porch, under the tree. Since I did not hear screams or the sound of running feet slapping against the brick walkway I put it out of my mind.

I am a Vampire but I am not devoid of the teachings of scripture. On the other hand I avoid all dealings with Demons. All dealings.

A few minutes later, as I was pouring a bit of blood into my coffee I heard a scratching on my door. I thought that I must face the Demon and went to the front door fangs out with a large kitchen knife in my hand. It was only my cat. The Demon was gone. Good kitty.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today a buck was in my yard eating fruit off of a nectarine tree.

In my time… no that does not make sense for this is my time still, in a different time, a long time ago, when I lived in my Vampire castle as King of Vampires we had no nectarines. Nectaries are the fruit of the Gods and I have one of their threes.

My friend Randolpho and my love Gillian were at my home. I summoned them to the window to see the young buck with his downey horns.

“Bambi,” said Gillian.

“Indeed he is like Bambi,” said Randolpho.

“Who is this Bambi you speak of?” I asked

Gillian and Randolpho smiled, both showing a bit of their Vampire fangs. “We will show you,” they said together.

Upon the screen they showed me a story of uncompromising beauty. I sat on the couch, my hand in Gillian’s, transfixed by the story of nature and power.

When it was over I sat for a few moments to gather my thoughts. “You told me this movie was for children. Would they not be afraid or saddened by this story?” I asked Gillian and Randolpho.

“Oh Vlad,” said Randolpho. “When you were a tiny child your BaBa told you gruesome stories of death and you loved every single one of them.”

Yes I remember her stories, and many concerned fire. She told me of Glago the Inhaler who would have his men lock up a building, set it afire and roast everyone inside. Then Glago would open his great wide mouth and suck out the roasted folk, then spit out their bones. Then the trolls would come gather the bones to build the foundations of their bridges. No screams or cries of mercy would stop Glago the Inhaler when he was hungry, or even when he was not.

There were also many tales of Robert the Gnawer who would make lovers of men’s wives. If the man came in when Robert the Gnawer was in his bed with the woman it would not go well. Robert would jump up out of bed, grab the man, then then gnaw his head off, then slurp his brain through his nose, and spit out his teeth while the woman watched in horror. Then he would bid the woman goodby and leave her. Of course Robert would always send large bags of gold so that his lovers would never have to worry about being left out in the wild. So it was not all so bad.

“No,” I said. “Bambi is not like Glago the Inhaler, or Robert the Gnawer. They have no families, or mothers, or honor. They have no true friends such as Flower or Thumper. They are without mothers and without souls. They are only wind. Bambi is noble. If Bambi was a Vampire he would have taken out Man and his parent would have lived another day. Alas, he was but a small deer, but through his courage and wits he grew to be a great buck and saved the doe he loved, and then became Prince of the Forest.”

“I thought I saw you rubbing your eyes during the movie,” said Randolpho.

“Allergies,” I said. “Just allergies.”

I think sometimes of old stories. After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I find I am also learning many new stories both true and false. It is now that false stories are called fiction, that is, unless they are lies and meant to deceive. It can be confusing but I am learning.

Or at least I think I am.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

As the sun came up I lay in bed with my love Gillian curled around my, her arm across my chest, her leg over mine.

I kissed the top of her her head and whispered thoughts of love in her ear. Her skin was cold. It was a welcome thing in this hot summer weather.

I thought about what a strange week it had been. Then I thought of back when I was the King of Vampires standing on the wall of my castle with the wind in my hair, looking over the vast horizon that was mine. I put that out of my mind and thought about the fact that I had to get a new set of tires for my car and take the cats in for their shots. The world is a different place. It will continue to be a different place.

The only constants are that Werewolves will turn on full moon nights, Vampires will drink blood, and lovers will love on hot summer nights.

I got up and closed the curtains to the sunrise and crawled back into bed with Gillian, to sleep and dream of what will come tomorrow.

~ Vlad

 

 

Dear Reader, this has been the 50th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read the entire diary from the start CLICK HERE.

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Mysteries

Dear Diary,

He said his name was Kit. We talked about things I do not understand such as cars, and shopping at REI, and Game of Thrones.

I locked my eyes on his then I put him into a trance. I did not feel like being scratched by the stubble of his beard so I went for the crook of his arm. I closed his hand into a fist.

“Hold this tight,” I whispered in his ear. Then I sank my teeth into his veins.

His blood was warm with that tasted that always brought back memories of warm summer nights and…

Women. Yet, there was something male. Quite male…looking. Kit had short hair, no face paint, a loose shirt in a mulch color, and cargo shorts. Kit was also tall. Kit was as tall as I am. Kit had a voice as deep as mine.

I finished and said, “wake my friend.”

Kit opened bright blue eyes and smiled. “I feel tired all of the sudden. Sorry, a little light headed. I haven’t even been drinking.”

“Is Kit for Katherine?” I asked softly.

“Not this again. Oh my God to I always have to explain myself. Kit is for Kit. I don’t have anything to hide.”

“As well you shouldn’t. You wear a wedding ring.”

“I do. My husband will be here any minute.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Whoa, wait, what did you say? How did you know that? I just found out today. I haven’t even told my hubby.”

“I am also different. I also do not, what do you say, fit the Normans.”

“Fit the norms. It’s norms,” said Kit. “How are you different, aside from being incredibly cute.”

“You would not understand,” I said. I do not understand why Kit had to call me cute.

“Try me.”

I said nothing. I do not understand but I suppose it is not something for me to try to understand. I also do not have to explain myself.

Then Kit smiled. “You’re prettier than most women, but you’re definitely a guy. What’s your story?”

“Where I come from my community, where I was the leader, we accepted everyone as they were. Unfortunately when many left outside of our protection they were persecuted and often put to death in horrible ways. I do not care about what is underneath your clothing. Congratulations by the way. You’re having a girl, and a boy. There are two babies in there.”

Kit’s mouth fell open. “How. Did. You. Know.”

“I’m a Vampire,” I whispered into Kit’s ear. “I will make sure you and your children, and your husband are kept safe, forever.”

I winked at Kit then gave them a kiss on their cheek. I know it was a strange encounter for Kit. It was certainly a strange encounter for me. Yet, it is my duty as a Vampire to keep those who befriend me safe. I also like Kit.

Kit looked confused and said, “I sort of believe you Vlad.”

“You have nothing to fear,” I said, and blew Kit a kiss and went home.

I will ask Kit to send me baby pictures when the time comes. With any luck the babies will be as cute as I am. I say that with a large dose of sarcasm.

It is a mixed-up, muddled-up, shook-up world indeed.

What a strange world I have awakened in after being locked in a crypt for three hundred years. For a Vampire King I have become quite, how do you say, soft. That is not a bad thing. Usually.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

This morning I arrived home to see my neighbor, a woman named Zoe, digging in her yard with a pick ax. She is not a large woman. She is fairly short and fairly round. Zoe looked at me with her bright eyes and a smile came upon her pretty face as she waved at me, then bent over and tossed a skull sized rock to the side.

I admired the explosion of flowers in her yard.

“What is the hole for?” I asked her.

Zoe brushed her hair out of her face and scowled. “I have been digging this thing for almost a half hour, just for one rose. River rocks. Our entire neighborhood is built on ROCKS. And damned if I’m going to have dirt hauled in.”

“I will help you if you wish,” I told her.

“No, I’m about done. I swear to God if I dig anymore I’ll find the Oak Island Treasure,” she said.

Oak Island. That is a place in Canada where there is said to be a treasure buried underneath the ground among tunnels. Two brothers and their friends did without luck finding small bits of information, mostly unrelated, in hopes of solving the mystery. Their progress is shown on the TV each week.

“Zoe do you know of Rick and Marty and their Oak Island Treasure hunting?”

“You watch that too? My dad told me about Oak Island when I was a kid. I expected someone would find the damn treasure by now if there is a treasure. I think it was some sort of waystation, or maybe a cache of banned books.”

“That sounds reasonable to me,” I said.

“I don’t think they’ll every find anything. What I’d love to do is go there and just plant a bunch of random shit. Like a couple of old Roman coins, some pre-Columbian pottery, something from the Middle Ages, maybe a few match box cars, plant a copy of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy at 150 feet. That would mix things up.”

We talked some more and Zoe told me of the flowers and her passion for growing them. As we spoke a car pulled in front my house. It was a large black car.”

“Do you know who that is in the SVU?” I asked.

“You mean SUV? I don’t know, but if they keep hanging around I’m going to go tell them to leave.”

She wiped her hand across her brow and left a streak of dirt. I rubbed the dirt off with my hand. As I was doing that four men came out of the car. They were all dressed in black with black masks over their faces. Cowards I thought.

As they approached us I could see knives, a gun, and a sharpened stake in their hands. Vampire Hunters. What were they doing here. If I had been back in my old country when I was King of Vampires I would have killed them all and put their heads upon tall poles as warnings to all who entered my lands. Unfortunately I have been told that I can not do that now. Yet, I have to protect my lands and my people. That includes Zoe and everyone who lives on my street.

One of the men yelled, “Vlad, Vampire Lord, we have come for you. Prepare to die.”

“What is this? Princess Bride?” said Zoe. She hefted her pick ax up and held it like a baseball bat.

The men charged us. Two grabbed my arms. I pushed forward and flung them off as if they were rats. One approached Zoe. She swung the as and hit the man with the side of the tool, rendering him unconscious. The others came at us using their full force as obviously trained assassins.

From out of the house across the street ran nineteen year old Kylee, yelling like a Banshee. She picked up a garden shovel and started to pound on one of the men.

I was knocked to the ground. I felt a sharp pain then noticed the pointed wooden stake in my chest, more by my shoulder, but missing my heart. Not again I thought. This exact same thing is how I ended up locked in a crypt for three hundred years.

Barring my fangs I pushed the men off of me. They fell to the ground. Zoe came at them with the high pressure nozzle of the garden hose, while Kylee hit them again and again with the shovel.

I saw the flash of a blade and felt it go through my face. If this kept up I would lose all of my blood. We heard sirens and all three of us know the sheriff would be here soon.

Then men picked up their fallen comrade and drove away in the black SUV.

“What the Hell was that?” Zoe looked at me, then sat on the ground next to me and held my wounds.

“Your face,” gasped Kylee. “Oh Vlad, they cut your face.”

“Chicks dig scars,” said Zoe.

“I will heal,” I said and then passed out.

When I awoke I was at home in my own bed.

“Impressive room,” said Kylee, who was looking around at the large bed and black coverings. Of course a bed is important to a Vampire.

“The paramedics wanted to take you to the hospital but your friend Randolpho showed up and talked them out of it,” said Zoe.

I noticed Randolpho, my oldest and dearest Vampire friend sitting on the foot of my bed. He was not wearing one of his ridiculous hats. “Vlad, this is not good. They know where you live.”

“They must have followed me home,” I whispered, weak with blood loss.

“What if they come back? Think about that Vlad,” said Randolpho.

Zoe scowled, then took my hand. “Our boy won’t be moving anytime soon. If anyone comes by again we’ll chase them off.”

“We have tools and we know how to use them,” said Kylee.

“Next time I’ll bring out the chainsaw,” said Zoe. And I believe she would.

“You don’t know what we’re dealing with,” said Randolpho.

“Sure we do,” said Zoe. “You guys are Vampires. Oh don’t look so surprised. We’ve known that for a couple of years. You can’t live on a small narrow dead end street like this and not know what your neighbors are up to.”

“If you weren’t Vampires,” said Kylee, “we’d think you were really weird. You’re pretty cool for Vampires. Cute too.”

I noticed my cats were curled up by my side. My cats are cute. I was not feeling cute at all.

Then my Vampire love Gillian came in. She was as always a beautiful sight.

“Vlad my love,” she said. Then she kissed my stitched face cut. I could feel it starting to heal.

“No more crypts for you Vlad,” said Kaylee.

“You’re home Vlad, and like it or not you’re one of us,” said Zoe.

My cold still Vampire heart started to flutter a bit. I almost felt warm, for just a bit.

I looked at Gillian. “I should have killed them. I am losing my touch.”

“We don’t do that anymore love.” Then she kissed me again.

Then I fell asleep trying to recover from the poison tipped stake and the evil knife cut, and had dreams of hunting down Vampire Hunters. I also dream of standing on the top of the tower in my castle, the wind in my hair, and knowing I rule all that I see.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I do not understand, still after five years in this time, this century, how to adapt. I have adapted well. I can drive. I can use a computer. I have mastered a keyboard. I have cats who do not depend on catching vermin to survive.

Yet, sometimes I wonder that there is no place on this planet for me.

Then I think of Zoe and Kaylee who have taken me, like a war orphan into their embrace. They are Amazons who showed me the power and might of garden tools. Do not underestimate a woman with a pick ax or a shovel.

I reached out and felt the cold shoulder of my love Gillian. She is a Vampire so she is cold. I find that intensely attractive.

“Would you like it if I gave you garden tools my love?”

She looked at me as if I was insane, curled into my side and fell asleep again.

I grabbed my phone, for I am a modern man. The local news establishment reported that a girl of nineteen, a man of thirty four years, and a woman of sixty years, were attacked by three unknown masked men.

Zoe is sixty? She looks and acts like someone much younger. I am 675 years old but I can pass for thirty four because I am a Vampire. Zoe is not a Vampire. Back when I was a Vampire King a woman as old as Zoe would have been considered a crone. She would have been ancient. I have seen Zoe in a dress. She is vibrant. Oh how things have changed. An old woman with a pick ax can fight off Vampire Hunters then go dance the night away with her friends. I am in awe.

I touch my face. The wound is healing. Gillian took away the pain and there will be no great scar.

I do not understand so much, yet I am finding there is a place in the universe for me. I just do not know where it is yet. I am a Vampire, so I have time.

And for the first time a community which does not accept me out of fear and awe, but out of love. I do not understand but I will accept that which I do not yet…understand.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 48th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read from the beginning CLICK HERE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: You Can’t Go Home Again

Dear Diary,

Going home is no longer an option.

This morning I went to Google Maps. There are cameras in space, up in the sky, in the heavens taking photographs of the Earth. Everything can be seen. I dare say unseen is what I wish today.

This thing called technology, baffles me. It amazes me. What amazes me the most is that all of this, which would have once been considered black magic is now not magic at all, AND it has almost all happened in the past one hundred years. It has happened in the past fifty years.

After being imprisoned in a crypt for three hundred years, I am still overwhelmed. The past four years… I can not even describe them.

This morning at dawn I stood out on my deck and looked at the sun coming up over the dark night sky. I thought about my old home where I was King of Vampires and all I could see. This morning I saw a flock of turkeys. Alas I am not even King of Turkeys now.

So inside I went to my MacBook Pro and to Google Maps and to my castle.

It was gone. My castle was not there. GONE. Not a trace. Just forest and meadows and NOTHING. All traces of my existence was gone. I looked up my name. Nothing but some Russian fool who rides horses and other animals without a shirt, and ridiculous laughable horror movies, and bad fan fiction. There is no trace or memory of me.

I picked up my phone (another unbelievable marvel of technology) and called my friend Randolpho. He said I had to look on the Dark Web to find information about real Vampires. I do not understand. I know that by web he does not mean a spider web but something of course we can not see. This new world and the language is confusing. Everything is called by a name that is indeed a tangled web of language. He said I needed a special server and spoke of other things I do not understand. Who is that special server and where do I find him? Will he serve only me or others as well? I did not risk asking Randolpho and seeing his eyes roll.

Yes, that is something people do now. They roll their eyes around in their heads as if to say, “you are ridiculous and have the mind of a child.” I have recently learned the term, “bless his heart,” means the same thing. Eye rolling. Bah.

I am forgotten. I am lost. I am new. I am frustrated.

I expressed this feeling to my love Gillian.

She said, “You’re so cute Vlad.” Then she kissed me. That is something no amount of technology can improve on.

So apparently I am cute as well. I do not understand this cute, but I will take her word for it. My advice to any male is to take a woman’s word on it, no matter what she says.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I still mourn the loss of my former home and kingdom, but on the other hand I am glad it is gone and nobody else is living there in my place.

Tonight I walked around my new home. It is a 3,500 square foot home with what is called a good sized yard. There is plenty of room for me, the cats, Jane the coyote dog, and Gillian when she is here.

Gillian has claimed her own bathroom (there are four of them. FOUR.) With all of the tools and cosmetics at her disposal there is no need of a maid for her. When I first met her it took two hours for her to get ready in the morning. She had layers and layers of clothing. She had layers of hair. Cosmetics were complex and questionable. Now she jumps in the shower, blows her hair with hot air and lets it flow down her back, then she pulls on six items. Only six. Bra, panties, jeans, shirt, two shoes. That is all. Sometimes she wears a dress, but it is tiny and no slip, corset, underskirts, hoops, or pads are needed. It is just my beautiful Gillian’s natural shape that shows. She sometimes laughs and says it is easier to be a Vampire with fewer clothes.

Gillian also has taught me how to get blood stains out using magical chemicals and a machine that actually washes clothing. In my castle there were five women who washed my clothing, and only my clothing. There were a dozen more to do the job for the rest of the castle.

Yes, I can now wash clothing in secret, with my own private machine, without anyone knowing what I have been doing the night before. That is always a good thing.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I was out tonight at my favorite night spot, where Vampires can sit among the crowd without anyone suspecting they are only there looking for a bit to eat in peace.

The bartender and owner, a lovely woman named Cassie, has become, shall I say, a friend.

Tonight she leaned against the bar facing me and asked me, “Where are you from Vlad? Originally? I can’t place your accent? Europe? South Africa?”

I smiled and took her hand, “Dear Cassie, where I come from no longer exists. Even if I could go home those who live there would not welcome me. I have found a home here, with those who are like me, in a new home with strangers. But strangers no more. I have you and others friends who are far better people than I knew before.”

“You can’t go home again. Sort of like the Thomas Wolfe novel. Have you read it?”

“No. Write it down. I will read it.”

“You seem sad,” she said.

“No, I am not sad. I am just feeling, what do you say, retrospective.” Then I smiled at her in a way that charms all who have warm blood in their veins. “I come from a place in Europe where the mountains are high and eagles still fly above the towering trees. I do not even know what country it is now. It does not matter. I am here in California. I will learn to ride a board on the waves. What is it called? Smurfing?”

“Surfing. It is surfing. Smurfs are small blue French people. Like annoying little dwarves and there’s only one girl.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. I just smiled and then scanned the room for someone with a nice neck and a healthy pulse.

Later with my veins full of fresh blood and my mind clear I went back to see Cassie. I gave her a kiss on her cheek and a hug. I closed my eyes feeling her heart beat.

“Thank you my dear Cassie for giving comfort to an old man.”

“Love you Vlad. HA! Old man my ass. What are you? Thirty-two, thirty-four?”

“Something like that,” I said as I kissed her cheek again. I would never tell her that I am 675 years old. I would never tell. It always confuses people, more than any technology can confuse an old Vampire like me.

As I left I could hear her tell the other bartender, “Damn, he is cute.”

I do not understand this cute. That I will never understand, but I will take it as a compliment from a friend.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I woke in a cold sweat. I am a Vampire so I only have cold sweat. I had a nightmare about small blue Frenchmen. They smelled of garlic and blueberries. They sang songs in deep throaty voices about ripping out the heart of Vlad the Vampire King.

The door to my bedroom opened. My love Gillian came in. She was wearing an extremely small black dress. The dress fell to the floor, along with her bra and panties. That was three pieces of clothing. She had no shoes. Now she wore nothing but diamond studs in her ears.

She crawled into bed with me, putting her smooth cold arms around me. I put my arms around her and pulled her close as she skimmed her fangs across my neck, then put her lips to mine.

I closed my eyes, and saw blue men, screaming as the large waves covered them while the great white sharks ate them like teenage children eat Hot Cheetos.

Gillian took my face in her hands. “Are you ok Vlad?”

OK. That is another one of those words I do not understand. It means someone  or something is good, or not bad, or it could mean anything, or nothing.

“I am fine,” I said. “Just take my mind off of my mind. Make me forget.”

As always she did. And then some.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

You’ve just read the 40th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning, or read your favorites again click here. 

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Queer Eye for the Vampire Guy

Dear Diary,

Tonight I stood outside in the cool breeze, under the sky with few stars, only the moon and the planet Venus, and occasional airplanes. How different the world is where there is so much light at night that even when it feels dark we can not see the stars.

It was the year before Louis XIV, The Sun King, died. I did not find out that for another three hundred years. I had heard another group of Vampires had left for the New World. I missed the American Revolution. My own country, my own small bit of the world fell into chaos and ruin…

I stood under the night sky with the wind in my long honey colored hair fell to the small of my back. I wore a coat of the finest wine colored fabric trimmed with ribbons with gold thread. My boots were of the finest leather and the color of my jacket. My shirt was trimmed with lace. It would all have been approved of by the Sun King, or any king, because I, Vlad, was King of the Vampires.

Here I take a deep breath and wonder what the Hell happened. I was standing alone in my thoughts enjoying the night air in a Foreign land, returning from a trip to Italy, when the last thing I remember was the sight of a beautiful woman and a sharp pain in my heart. It had nothing to do with romantic thoughts.

My attackers, who are still unknown to me, sealed me in a crypt, and there I remained for the next three hundred years. My location was unknown to my family, friends, or allies. My citizens were without a leader and lost to the winds and ravages of marauding hordes. Those who were not slaughtered went into hiding. My friend Randolpho was one of them.

For three hundred years I lay in a state of trance like sleep, occasionally mixed with consciousness, unable to move, or cry out for help. I was dead, but undead, in a cruel state of hibernation. My heart had been stabbed with a stake but not fully pierced. My throat had been slit but my head not severed. It is rather disgusting now that I think of it.

Of course one can imagine what it was like when Randolpho and my love Gillian found me. First I heard the lock snap, and the gates of the crypt forced open, then the top of the tomb moved off, and then they opened the coffin.

“Oh shit,” was the first words that I heard, coming from the mouth of Randolpho.

Gillian bent over and kissed me. I opened my eyes. “It’s him,” she said in a now unfamiliar accent. “Let’s get him out of here.”

My fine clothing had all but rotted away. My hair was in tangles with years of bugs and mice having their children in my golden locks. When I awoke I found myself not in a coffin but in the softest of beds with sheets so softer than anything I could have imagined.

Everything smelled good. I smelled good like flowers and fresh spring herbs. I wore a soft robe, and drawstring pants. My hair was clean but now short to my collar. I often think of growing it long again but maybe not.

Gillian came in, not as I remembered her, corseted in a long gown and elaborate ringlets, but in a short skirt and a long jacket. Her hair was straight and down her back. The skirt was black leather, the jacket was a pink color I could not describe, her shirt was simple white lace. She smelled like oranges and roses. Later she told me it was grapefruit scented lotion. Her legs were showing. Almost all of her legs.

In all of my centuries I could have never imagined the modern world in which I had awakened into.

Louis XIV was the King of the Sun, and I was the King of the Moon.

Now I wear jeans. I am no longer King. As for Louis, alas he is still dead.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Gillian said, “You could wear a burlap bag and you’d still be cute.”

“What is a burlap bag?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. The door bell rang and she left me standing, once again wondering what she was talking about.

I quickly looked up burlap bag on the Internet. Why would wearing a brown bag made of rough cloth make me cute? What did she mean by cute? Do I look like an onion or potato or coffee bean? Onions are not cute. I do not understand half of what she says to me.

Friends came to binge watch Netflix. I asked them once what Netflix represented. They told me that movies used to be called flicks because of how the film would flicker. They explained more but I was lost. I smiled and thanked them. Gillian and Randolpho tell me not to be overly concerned about the names of companies. I disagree. One never knows what might be lurking in secondary and secret meanings of names. They laugh at that. I scoff. I was not Vampire King for 306 years by not paying attention. The one time I did not pay attention I ended up in the 21st Century.

Randolpho and friends, Innocenzio D’Antonio, Jackie Rafferty and his girlfriend Willow came over. Gillian’s friend Elizabeth was also in the group. I have no kingdom but I have new Vampire friends.

Tonight we watched something called Queer Eye. In my wildest dreams I never imagined such a thing. We watched for five hours.

Five men go from town to town and fix the lives of other men who need fixing. They also help women, but mostly men. How do I say this… they are what is now called “Queer” or “Gay” which in this language means odd or happy, but also means they choose to be with romantic men.

Back when I was King of the Vampires in my old country and old centuries back world we did not care who anyone spent their time or lives with. It did not matter. We were Vampires and I was their King.

As a youth it did matter. There were men who were afraid of those who loved freely. They were violent against those who were not the same as them. That was my uncle and cousins who were unfortunately eaten by wolves or ended up somehow, mysteriously with their heads on posts.

They would torture me when I was young because they said I looked like a pretty girl rather than a boy. They also tried to take advantage of my sister and harm her. They were not the kind of Vampires who would binge watch Netflix. But they are no longer here and I look around my home and have decided that I need to how do I say, step up my game.

Alas clothing for men is so plain now. Everything looks good on me but it would be good to know what would look best on me.

Among the seven Vampires watching we used two entire boxes of what is called Kleenex while watching the shows. We might be Vampires but we are what do they call it, suckers for sentimentality and turning lives around. After all, that is what Vampires do. We turn lives around as well.

Antoni, Karamo, Tan, Bobby, and Jonathan made me laugh and think about style. I believe my hair would look good if it was styled the same as Tan’s. I do not like angels, as most Vampires do not, but in this case I believe Bobby is the human form of one.

When the sun came up and we decided to sleep, I wondered if Bobby would help an old Vampire design his guest chambers?

I almost stayed up to watch the rest of Season 2 without the others.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

In my bed, with Gillian asleep in my arms, I wondered how out of touch I am with the modern world. Maybe it is not that I am so out of touch as… I do not know. I seem to adapt.

It is a full moon. I wonder if I will hear the Werewolves howl tonight. I wonder if they will have their sinks clogged with fur. I wonder where they keep their clothing when they run as wolves. I wonder why even now Werewolves still dress in such tacky and distasteful clothing. I wonder if I get measured and order some new suits tomorrow how long it will take for me to get them. I wonder if ribbons and lace will ever be popular again for men to wear openly without shame?

Gillian runs her hand across my chest and up my neck. She never asks what I am thinking. She knows. Her cool touch to my face brings me out of my own thoughts.

“Do you think I need a Queer Eye?” I ask.

She smiles with a hint of fang. “No, just a few history books.”

Then she kisses me, and puts her naked leg over mine, and this is where I stop writing.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 39th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning (or randomly read them) CLICK HERE.