Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Murphy and Snafu walk into a bar

Dear Diary,

It has not been a good day.

My cat was crying a pitiful cry the way cats do. She sounded like a wailing infant who had been damned to eternal suffering. Ever so gently I picked her up and could feel a swelling on her neck.

An abscess. I remember back when I was King of the Vampires when mortal men who were among my subjects would shuffle like the living dead after being bitten by nasty dirty rogue Vampires. Responsible and civilized Vampires such as myself, and those in my court were always clean, knowing that if they took care of their food it would be there for them again when they were hungry. The rouge Vampire who lived in foul caves and holes in the ground smelled like death and putrid rotting flesh. Their fangs were yellow and black.

When they would bite a man, if they did not kill him, the man would become infected with every sort of germ imaginable. Of course we did not know of germs back then. That did not stop the wounds from becoming horrible neck abscesses that had to be lanced and then cleaned with flame and gallons of alcohol. I had seen heads fall off from such vile poisoned Vampire abscesses. It is not a pretty sight.

The last night of the foul rogue Vampire attack I chased them down through the woods. My hounds ran in front of me. My men rode behind me. As I went ahead it started to rain. Lightning flashed and the tree in front of m exploded. A branch fell on me. My horse ran away, as I lay on the ground with a broken arm and a broken fang. As I stood up one of my men ran over me with his horse. He never even saw me and continued to ride. As I limped back to my castle, soaking wet, I wondered what else could go wrong.

My friend Randolpho was waiting for me at the front gate.

“Vlad, you won’t believe this but…guess what I just found out.” he started.

“What?” I snapped at him.

“Guess,” Randolpho said.

“Tell me,” I said ready to tear his throat out. I had no time for his games and riddles.

“Your wife is cheating on you,” my friend said. “Can you believe it? I knew something was up with that bitch.”

Four hundred years later I will not heal my cat with flames.  I did not want her head to fall off so I called the Veterinarian, otherwise known as an animal doctor.

Knowing that my cat would not willingly ride in the car I put a cat carrier cage box on the kitchen table. I attempted to put the cat within the box. She growled and jumped. I fell backwards against a chair. The chair hit the window. The window shattered. My head hit the window sill. Broken glass slashed across my cheek. I was not wearing shoes and stepped on a large shard of glass cutting my foot.

My Vampire lover Gillian came into the room while still drying her hair with a towel.

“Vlad. What happened?” Gillian asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You’re going to bleed out. Oh my God, your face.” She grabbed a roll of paper towel and then grabbed me, and then pushed me into a chair. She took the towel from her hair and pressed it to my face. Then she yanked the glass out of my foot. “What happened here?”

It told her. “Everything that could have go wrong did go wrong.”

“Murphy’s Law,” she said. “I’m going to have to stitch up your foot and put a butterfly on your face. You’ll heal fast but it will go quicker if I stitch it.

“Who is this Murphy and what is his law?”

“If anything can go wrong it will.  Murphy’s Law.”

“Who allowed Murphy to do this? Surely he was not elected into office.” Then again it seems like anything that is not either dead or a possum can be elected for a job.

She ignored my question about Murphy. “Do you want me to take the cat to the Vet?”

“I will do it.”

“Fine. I’ll call the handyman and have the window fixed.”

Apparently Gillian does not consider me handy.

“Why do you want to put an insect on my face?” I asked.

“A butterfly bandage. It is a type of bandage not an insect.”

“I did not know,” I told her. “I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years. Do not expect me to know all things that that are modern, especially bandages.”

When she had finished with me Gillian managed to get the cat into the box. She put the cat box on the passenger side of my car, handed me the keys, and told me to be careful.

I arrived at the animal hospital. I could hear the women working there whispering, “He is so cute. Look how adorable he is.”

“My cat is female.” I said to them.

They all started to giggle. I do not understand what make women act in such strange ways when I come into a room.

Another woman who was a doctor to animals looked at my cat. My cat purred. I was still not over joyed by the situation no matter what the cat thought of it. The Animal Doctor gave my cat drugs to heal her and told me to call if the cat did not get better.

At least that went as it should have.

I drove about a mile when I heard a loud noise. My car started to bounce. It was difficult to steer. After pulling over I found that one of my tires had exploded.

I did as I have been advised to by Gillian and my friend Randolpho, who are both well versed in automobiles, and called the number on my towing service card.

After a long wait on the side of the road with my cat, a large tow truck showed up.

A man got out of the truck and looked me up and down as if he was sizing me up. I am quite muscular so I am assuming he thought I might push my car home.

He asked me, “Do you have a spare?”

“Spare what?” I asked.

“A spare tire?”

“I do not know. Should I have one?”

“Pop the trunk,” he asked.

“It is not inflated. The trunk of this car is hard metal,” I said.

“Open the trunk so I can look for a spare tire,” said the man.

The man found a spare tire hidden under a flap in the carpeting in the trunk.

“You’ve never changed a tire,” said the man. It was not a question.

“I know nothing about cars. I never even drove one until about five years ago.”

“What about your dad? Did he drive?”

“No. We used horses. My father never learned to drive.” My father died in 1460. I did not tell the tire changing man that interesting fact.

“What are you Amish or something?”

I do not know what Amish is but I answered, “Something like that.”

“Makes sense by your accent. Nice car. How do you like having an electric car?”

“It is quiet,” I said. Vampires need quiet cars. “I like it.”

As I stood watching the man change my tire, I stood in the sun feeling sick. This was not good. I could imagine my skin starting to blister. I can take a small amount of sun but not this heat which seemed to seer me like a pig on a spit over a bonfire. I thought I was going to vomit but my stomach was empty of all blood or food of any kind.

I could hear the radio of a car driving by blasting the song Sweater Weather. It was indeed sweater weather for anyone who was not a Vampire. That just, what it the term, added insult to injury.

I heard the cat meow sadly from the box on the front seat. Then my stomach started to tell me that I was in dire need of blood. My head was light and all I could do was look at the veins on the man’s neck and forearm.

After getting a spare tire put on my car, and sucking about a pint of blood out of the arm of the AAA man, I left him sleeping on the front seat of his truck with a $50 bill.

I got into my car and noticed a large blood stain on my shirt as if I were some amateur Vampire. Then I noticed my shoe was soaked with blood where the stitches had come out of my foot. I was sunburned. My head throbbed. My hair was a mess.

I need to find this Murphy and kill him.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

After the events of yesterday, my Vampire lover Gillian greeted me with kisses and promises of passion.

After a few minutes of passion she fell asleep.

She fell asleep.

SHE FELL ASLEEP.

I was tempted to look underneath the bed to see if Murphy was there. I am sure I heard laughing.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight I went out find blood and perhaps some sanity.

I went to a bar I often go to. This particular establishment is frequented by college students, young working people, and those who believe themselves to be, as my friend Randolpho says, bougie.

Two attractive young women approached me. They introduced themselves as Emily and Sammie. I find it odd that at least half of young women I meet are named Emily.

This Emily was tall with long blonde hair and a dazzling long neck. Sammie had red hair of an unusual shade.

“You’re so cute,” Emily said to me.

“Gorgeous,” said Sammie. “So are you up for a little fun? Wanna play with us tonight?”

I was taken aback by their forwardness, but I was also extremely hungry. Yet, something did not seem quite right. Before I could turn down their offer a large man accidentally bumped Sammie and an entire glass of red wine was dumped on my white shirt.

“Oh no,” the young women said in unison.

“Our apartment is just across the street,” said Sammie. “We can rinse the wine out of your shirt before it is perminately stained.”

So I went across the street to the home of the two young women.

They quickly stripped my shirt off of me, leaving me standing bare chested. Both of the women were quick to run their hands over my chest while making purring noises. Then they both kissed me and vanished into another room. Within two minutes they both returned completely naked. I have to admit they were a double vision of perfect female beauty.

I could feel their warmth, and hear the blood pumping through their veins. I could smell it.

Suddenly, as I was ready to take both to the nearby couch they grabbed a handle from the wall and pulled down a hidden bed.

“What is this?” I asked, having never seen such a contraption.

“A Murphy Bed,” said Emily.

May the ancient Gods protect me. I could not stay.

As the women cried after me to come back, I left, with only my jacket, leaving my shirt behind.

When I arrived at my car I took my keys out of my coat pocket. Suddenly something crashed into me. I could smell the stench of dirty human. I turned barring my fangs pushing the foul creature off of me.

It took a look at me and screamed, the grabbed my keys off of the ground and ran into a nearby alley. I ran after it. All of the sudden the dirty human came flying through the air and back at me. It hit me and I fell flat on my back. Something picked up the dirty human and threw it again. I could hear it scuttling off.

A face looked down at me, fangs barred. Then a smile.

“Vlad. Is that you? I thought you were dead!”

“Constantine. My old friend. How long has it been? Wow, the last time I saw you was 1680.”

“It has been a while,” I said, taking my old friend’s hand as he offered to help me up.

He gave me now what I know is called a bro hug.  “Vlad, oh Vlad. Where have you been?”

“I was kidnapped and locked in a crypt for three hundred years. I have only been out for these past six years.”

“Dude. Who did that to you?”

“I do not know,” I told him. “Randolpho and Gillian rescued me.”

Constantine looked me up and down and smiled. “Damn, you’re still the best looking Vampire anywhere, but why no shirt? You look like something off of a bodice ripper romance cover.”

A bodice ripper romance cover. I will have to look that up. “Murphy’s Law,” I said.  “I have an extra shirt in my car. One never knows when stains will occur.”

Now, as in the past, Constantine was always the best dressed Vampire. He was impeccaple tonight in a black suit, with a dark plum colored shirt and a plum colored silk tie. As we walked back to my car I saw that shadows were closing in. Constantine also noticed. We heard foot steps.

My friend and I were surrounded by Vampire Hunters.

Back when I was King of the Vampires, and Constantine was my dandy friend we could just take out our swords.

“Look in their eyes. Capture their souls,” I said quietly to my friend.

He smiled, then showed his fangs.

There were five Vampire Hunters. Two had guns. One had a whip. Two had wooden stakes.

“Oh look, someone is getting ready to plant their spring garden,” said Constantine, mocking the Vampire hunters and their stakes.

“Put down your weapons,” I said quietly. “Look at me. You are in the presence of the King of Vampires.” I caught the eyes of three of them. They put down their weapons. “Sit down. Stay still.”

“Don’t look at their faces. Don’t listen to them,” yelled one of the two left standing. Constantine approached them. A gun went off. I saw a dark shining stain start to swell on his shoulder.

“Damn. That was one of my favorite suits,” said my friend. He jumped on the man with the gun and slammed him to the ground. What happened next I will pass on describing. I will just say a good tailor and dry cleaner will be needed to fix that suit. I took on the second man still standing. After showing him my fangs he dropped the whip he held and ran.

When we were done, I said, “Murphy’s law.”

“That was more of a SNAFU,” said Constantine.

“SNAFU?” I asked. I had never heard of a SNAFU.

“Situation Normal: All Fucked Up.”

“I see,” I said. “That makes sense in a confusing sort of way.”

“Listen Vlad, you’re doing great considering how much catching up you’ve had to do.”

I dropped my friend off at his house, and I went home to my cats.

The first thing I did was look up Bodice Ripper on the Internet.

That was interesting.

The next thing I did was take a shower. While I closed my eyes under the cold water I heard a door open. My eyes flew open. I was ready for a fight. Fortunately it was Gillian. She took off her clothes and got in with me.

“Turn up the heat,” she said.

“I will definitely turn up the heat,” I said.

The rest of the evening went splendidly without any interference from Murphy. There were no interruptions. No SNAFU. No broken glass, stray possums, Vampire Hunters, or stains of any kind. We slept the deep sleep of lovers entangled in each other’s arms and legs. It was the peaceful dreamless and quiet sleep of the undead. It was a rare blessing, something Vampires savor and prize.

Then tomorrow…tomorrow I will find this Murphy and I will kill him. I am Vlad, former King of the Vampires. The cats came in and curled up at our feet, as if to say, we will keep you safe tonight, for we are cats, and we are the ones who now rule all.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

This has been 55th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary.

It is also a lame entry into the 7th Annual Contest of Whatever at the Evil Squirrel’s Nest. And if you’re out driving in your car watch for urban wildlife. Possums are our pals.

The Seventh Annual Contest Of Whatever!

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Ugly Christmas Sweaters

Dear Diary,

I have been listening to Christmas songs on the radio. Nothing they sing makes any sense. These are just songs about children who want huge animals, broken romances, mothers cheating on their husbands, and women asking a mythical man in a red suit for high priced gifts. I do not understand.

Then…THEN there are witches. Why are no creatures stirring? Have the witches been banned from their potions the night before Christmas? Have their animal familiars gone away into winter hibernation brought on by the over abundance of green and red lights? Are mice organizing? It is truly horrifying.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

After spending three hundred years locked in a crypt therefore missing the 18th, 19th and 20th Centuries I find myself still learning, and a bit confused over current Yule season traditions.

I received an invitation to what is called an ugly Christmas sweater party. I do not understand the significance of this. I asked my Vampire lover Gillian about this. She said for God’s sake Vlad it is just for fun. At times Gillian has little patience with me.

On the Google I found many references to ugly Christmas sweaters. It seems the sweaters depict favorite holiday motifs portrayed in bright red and green colors. In the spirit of Yule I have decided that I will make my own Christmas sweater.

During my childhood, unlike my current situation in this place called California, it was often bitterly cold, even for Vampires. It was during a dark cold winter storm lasting two weeks that my Baba taught me how to knit and how to do needlework. One could say that was an unconventional task for a ten year old Vampire boy but Baba said as the future King of Vampires I must know many skills. She stressed that as a Vampire I must know all of the survival skills, including being both protected from the elements and striving to always being fashionable.

In a yarn shop, where they sold only yarn, I found a pattern for a sweater suitable for the male body. Next I looked for the right needles. I learned on needles made of bone and wood. These needles were brightly colored like ugly Christmas sweaters.

The women in the shop asked me if they could help. They wanted to know if I was buying a gift. When I told them I would be knitting my own sweater they all but swooned. I am used to such reactions. Then I told them that my grandmother, my Baba, had taught me to knit with yarn. At that point the air was thick with love and admiration.

After about an hour I left with a bag of black, green, red, gold, brown, and white yarn, needles, and a pattern. I also left with a belly full of blood, but left the women with smiles on their faces. They do not remember my taking their blood, only that a handsome man came into the shop and charmed them.

At home I have begun to knit.

My friend Randolpho came over to check out what I was doing. He told me he thought the sweater would bring quite a reaction. I told him that I was mixing both new and old traditions. It warmed my cold Vampire heart to work on such a project.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight was the Ugly Christmas Sweater party at my friend Cassie’s Pub. She had closed her establishment down and just invited friends and family. Cassie is not a Vampire. I do not scare her friends with the fact that I am.

My sweater was finished and fit quite well. I did not think it was ugly at all. Maybe it was a bit unusual due to the cats I knitted onto the back. I was willing to accept any stares or giggles that might bring.

There was quiet when I walked into the room.

Everyone looked at the front of my sweater in wonder, and maybe a bit of horror. I was confused by this. Was this not supposed to be a Christmas party full of holiday cheer and memories of traditions old and new?

On my sweater was the large image of a man with bloody feet. I used shining metallic red thread for the blood. I put green blinking lights on his eyes. It was indeed an ugly sweater, yet beautiful at the same time. I was happy with it.

When I walked in there was quiet, then a gasp.

“Die Hard,” someone said.

“Yes, indeed,” I replied. “A Christmas classic so I am told. My sweater is covered in beloved motifs of Christmas traditions.”

I did not only make the Die Hard man. On the left sleeve was Krampus with his long tongue wrapped around the arm. Tiny faces of children in agony due to the whip of Karmpus bordered the cuff. Krampus held out a large bag ready to pack in the children. It took me hours to get the shading of the folds correct on the bag. I spend much time unraveling and re-knitting it. The results made me happy indeed.

On the right sleeve were shining bright white skulls with gold and silver sparkles stuck upon bright red and white, what is now called candy cane poles. Snow flakes danced brightly in the sky above the skulls.

On the back of the sweater I knitted a picture of my two cats sitting next to a Christmas Tree.

Everyone at the party was impressed when I told them that I knitted the sweater all by myself. Again there was more swooning from the ladies. They all said I was so cute. I do not understand what they mean by cute but I shall accept it as a compliment by the sheer lust in their eyes.

It warmed me to think that 665 years ago, my Baba taught me how to knit. It seems like yesterday.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Yule is a time that even makes Vampires feel warm. The views of pine trees is now replaces with orange trees. I am becoming accustom to my new home where there is no snow, no castles, and not many Vampires.

My love Gillian and I watched Die Hard tonight while we sipped warm blood mixed with spices and a splash of red wine.

Too much merry and bright makes my skin crawl, but this year it has been just enough to make me feel there is hope for me in the modern world.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 55th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read Vlad’s diary from the start CLICK HERE.

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Bring Your Own Bags

Dear Diary,

I wore black jeans, a blue cotton sweater over a black tee shirt which accented my golden hair and blue eyes. I might be slow about modern culture but I have never let go of my sense of fashion.

In the days, before I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years, I would have worn high leather boots, leather, lace, and velvets. My hair would have been long past my shoulders. I would have even had a cape. Over the past five years, in this new century, I have learned to be less complicated. My hair now is almost long enough to pull back, but that will soon change. I am feeling like having it shorter, maybe for the Thanksgiving feasting time at the end of the week. I must call Katie who will do wonders with my hair.

An odd thing happened tonight. I was out shopping, as even Vampires do from time to time, I have learned. In the parking lot, for I can drive, as I got my bags out of the trunk of my car, a figure approached me. Holy Mother of all Vampires, and the Demons who reside in Hell, it was my old rival Magnus.

Magnus ruled a swatch of sorry burned out lands south of where my Vampire Kingdom was, for once a long time ago I was the King of Vampires. He stood before me, all in black, black hair blowing in the wind, black leather jacket, tight black pants, black boots, and all accented his pale, almost snow white skin. Despite his ugly attitude, Magnus was always handsome, but never as handsome as I am and would never be considered cute. I have not seen him in at least four hundred years. Another four hundred without him would not hurt my feelings.

“I have come for you Vlad. I have come to finally take my revenge upon you,” he said in a deep voice. His brown eyes darted to the bags I was holding in my hands. I closed the trunk of my car.

“What are you doing?” Magnus demanded.

“Thanksgiving is at the end of next week. I am going to Trader Joe’s then Whole Foods to get items I need to put together an appetizer plate. I was invited to the feast by a friend. Now if you will let me pass.”

“What is in the bag?”

“Nothing yet. Do you not know that we must have reusable bags now? This is California. We care about reusing our resources and our environment.”

Magnus let out a low grown and squinted is eyes. “You have become soft,” he said.

“I see you have not evolved,” I told him. Evolved is a new word I like to use a lot. It came about right after I was entombed for three hundred years against my will. Missing the three most evolved centuries that I can think of has left me at somewhat a disadvantage, but not always.

“I have come for you Vlad,” he said. “I burn with a drive to destroy you and all you ever stood for.”

“The difference between us Magnus,” I said to him, “was that I was driven by passion, while you were driven by hate that ate away at you until what little bit of a soul you still had escaped your heart and was emptied out of your foul smelling boots like sand.

“Where did your passion get you?”

I shrugged my shoulders in a gesture of thinking I don’t care what he thinks. “I am happy, something a Vampire like you will never feel.”

He grabbed the bags out of my hand.

“Do not take the bags. Damn you Magnus. I need those. My cats enjoy hours of fun playing in them.”

“Who are you meeting with?”

“Maybe some vegetables and cheese, or some a nice local Zinfandel,” I said in an attempt to confuse him with my humor. My humor frequently confuses people.

“Who invited you? You are nobody,” Magnus yelled at me. He has always been extremely rude.

“Friends. You do know what friends are I assume. But then maybe not. You always were quite unpleasant.”

“You have changed Vlad.”

“No shit Sherlock,” I said. I do not know what that means but my Vampire lover Gillian says those words when something is extremely obvious.

His face turned into a mask of rage, lips curing back showing freakishly long fangs.

And as my twenty year old friend Kylee would say, I said, “Really Magnus? Really?”

Magnus stepped closer, and pulled a long knife out of thin air.

“It is actions such as this Magnus,” I said quietly, “that kept you in a disheveled run down ruin of a castle with a motley crew of mercenary Vampire ghouls rather than having your own legitimate Vampire Kingdom as I did.”

Magnus stepped closer, not snarling like a wolverine. I stood my ground, and spoke quietly as I would to a child.

“Put down the knife. Put down your anger. This is not the time or place for violence.”

Then the bastard lunged at me slicing my arm, and my favorite sweater. I looked down at my now unraveling sweater and the blood dripping down my arm then  I grabbed his wrist with one hand, and his neck with my other hand. Even with a deep cut on my arm, Magnus was no match for me as he dropped the knife, and gasped for air. His eyes turned blood red, then black, then solid white. I did not let go. He tried to lung up and bite me but my grip was too strong as I slammed him to the ground.

“You need to go away Magnus. You need to go far far away. I may not have my castle anymore, but I am still the Vampire King.”

I could feel his skin turning as cold as ice in fear as I tightened my grip around his throat. He attempted to rip my hair with his free hand, but that quickly stopped when I told him, “I will drain your body of every drop of blood, then spit it out in the street to be washed down to the sewers, leaving you an empty husk to be eaten by rats. Then again, Magnus, even rats would find you bitter and tasteless, just like your over blown personality.”

Just then a woman with a teenaged boy walked by. “Oh my God,” she called out. “Do you need help?”

I lied, “I have called 911. Go inside where it is safe. I know this man. He is insane and will be soon locked up and in a safe place with caring people. Do not worry about the way he looks. He always likes to wear Vampire fangs to scare people. He is always in a Halloween mood.”

The boy looked with wide eyes. He would have a story to tell for the rest of his life. The mother and son moved on. “Have a nice Thanksgiving,” I called to them.

“Now for you Magnus,” I almost growled at him. “You are to leave here and never bother me again. If I hear you are bothering anyone else, be it Vampire or warm blooded people I will hunt you down and you will never taste blood again. Do you understand.”

I let him go. He got up to his feet. “Go,” I said. Then he ran to a black car, the kind they call, what is it, a muscle car, and drove away too fast. I secretly hoped he would get a ticket. We were in the town of Folsom so the chances were high that he would.

Inside of Trader Joe’s the woman and her teenage son approached me. She looked at my blood soaked sleeve.

“Are you ok? I’m a nurse. You need to get that cleaned up.”

Then next thing I know she is in the bathroom cleaning up my wound. She mentioned how cold I was and told me to get to the hospital. I held her hand in mine and thanked her.

“You are a good person. Thank you,” I said, and gave her a quick hug, which thrilled her because, well, just because.

I could hear others around saying how sweet she was and how cute and hot I am. I do not understand cute or hot. I am cold since I am a Vampire. Kittens are cute and I am a grown man. I do know that I am more attractive to most so I will take it all as a compliment.

If one helps a Vampire and shows kindness towards a Vampire, then the Vampire will always make sure you are safe. The Vampire community will make sure her boy is safe when he goes off to the university and that she will always be without harm. Most people do not know that, even when they do have a Vampire watching over them.

Now I am home, and after putting away the groceries into an empty refrigerator I will pour myself a glass of wine, call my cats to play with the reusable bags, and think about how truly thankful I am.

I am a Vampire. I might be cute. I am also thankful.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

This has been the 54th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To catch up on all of Vlad’s Vampire Diary entries click here.

 

2019 Nano Pablano Cheer Peppers. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Fall

Dear Diary,

Autumn is attempting to come to this hot dry place in which I live. A few trees have started to show off their golden and red leaves. The other leaves just fall because they are dead. Now I must rake them into a pile and put them in what is called a green waste can even if they are brown. My neighbors use machines called leaf blowers. I have one of those as well. I turn mine on when I leave home and put it on my back deck so that I will not have intruders.

As a Vampire I should not be concerned with the colors of the day but one can not live only in the dark. One must be on watch all hours of the day. No Vampire who lives more than the natural life span of a man sleeps soundly or deeply.

Even in the colder of weather, even if it rained, even if a glacier rumbled slowly down the street which I live on, men here would wear short pants and show off their hairy legs.

I have asked women if they find these shorts appealing. I am answered with odd stares and rolled eyes. I will assume that they are saying no. Still I do not understand. Why would a man wear a shirt, a sweatshirt, a jacket, a hat, wool socks, hiking boots, and short pants? Are red hairy knees thought to be attractive? I think not. Even though my legs are perfect I will not wear short pants when the weather turns cold.

I asked my Vampire lover Gillian about this. She told me that not everything is tied to one’s vanity. I have no idea what she meant by that. I have learned that it is better not to ask.

That is the world in which I, once the King of Vampires, exists.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Gillian said I should stop talking about shorts.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I find myself behind on cultural traditions of the Twenty First Century.

Today if the first day of the harvest season.

When I was King of the Vampires, and lived in a great castle on a hill surrounded by forest and farmland, there were great celebrations on this first day of the season.

As King of Vampires it was my job to make sure that all, not just Vampires were happy. After all I was proud that my kingdom was the Farm-to-Fang Capitol of the world.

Mind you, some Vampire Lords would exploit their populations with displays of spewing blood and tearing of flesh. I found that distasteful. Rather I found if my population was happy then I would be well fed and happy. It is common sense. Unfortunately, as it is also today, many leaders do not have common sense.

Each year a grand harvest festival would take place. During the day parades with men made of straw, wagons full of grain and root crops, and children dressed up with tall pointed hats the color of the gold and amber leaves. Even the Witches would come out to bless the harvest and keep the evil spirits away. Being the benevolent King that I was, I would allow all, including Witches and even Werewolves to show themselves at this time. Every door would have a wreath made of ribbons and wheat. Red ribbons meant that Vampires were welcome to come and partake of blood.

Warm blooded would curl their beards in wild patterns and attempt to outdo each other. Most Vampires had no beards, so they would curl their hair. I did not curl my golden locks, rather I would remain as I always was, a stunning example of male beauty and power.

The parties and feasts would last for days. At my castle we would have fresh blood, and watch as the men of straw were burned in great bonfires. There would be no executions at this time, only the burning of straw and wood.

Today I made a wreath out of wheat and ribbons. Since I no longer am king, and I no longer have farmland, I had to obtain my wreath materials from a craft store.

I discovered that a craft store is the domain of females. The other shoppers and store clerks watched in as I looked for supplies. I could hear them whispering and skittling around the isles of the store to get a look at me.

“He is so cute,” I’d hear them say, thinking I could not hear. I am a Vampire so I hear nearly everything. I do not know what they mean by cute. Kittens and puppies are cute. Hamsters are cute. I do not look like a hamster. Some they thought I was hot. I wondered if I looked as if I was ill. I had no fever.

I left with a glue gun, 100 sticks of glue, five wreath forms, wheat stalks, ribbon in black, orange, yellow, gold, red, and green. I also had an unpainted nutcracker, fabric for a scare crow face, a straw hat, buttons, 30 colors of acrylic paint, paint brushes, fabric paint, glitter, a book on how to knit, knitting needles, black wool yarn, fuzzy red yarn, a sketch pad, twenty quills and ink, a measuring tape, a pack of needles, five colors of thread, a bag of plastic dinosaurs, a bag of sea shells, calligraphy pens, and a six foot tall plastic skeleton. I will go back before Halloween for more items.

At home I made a grand wreath of ribbons and wheat. I hung it on my front door. Then I made a man of straw and put him in my yard underneath an oak tree.

Two of my female neighbors walked by. They said the man of straw was cute. Then they said I was cute for making the man of straw. I do not understand. How can the man of straw be cute when I am cute. I do not understand this word cute.

I was not wearing short pants, but jeans. I was wearing what is commonly called a tee shirt. It was black and stretched over my body like a second skin.

As the women walked on one mentioned my six pack. I do not recall having beer in my front yard for them to see. Another said I must work out a lot. Sometimes I do work outside but not often because I am a Vampire and I do not like the bright sun.

My two cats rolled in the morning sun making meowing noises for me to rub their bellies. I rubbed their bellies. I like the cats. They understand me for they are also hunters. I sometimes understand cats, in a world in which I seem to understand so little.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

My love Vampire love Gillian said to me, “Do people who sell their souls become demons who come back centuries later and become politicians? Asking for a friend.”

“Who is this friend?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes as she often does.

“Tell your friend that I believe the answer is yes,” I told her.

Then she kissed me and started to unbutton my shirt. “I’m going to enjoy that six pack you told me about yesterday.”

“I did not know you like beer,” I said.

Then she laughed. I was confused. Then she kissed me again. That is something I always understand.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

This has been the 52nd installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read from the beginning CLICK HERE.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

 

Juliette’s Monday Book Club: Cute and Confused

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

Today I’m featuring a serial blog book: Vlad’s Vampire Diary. It is free. It is right here. It is fun. A lot of fun.

Vlad’s Vampire Diary

After being trapped in a crypt for three hundred years, Vlad the fierce and powerful Vampire King is now learning how to live in the modern world, and learn the true meaning of the word “cute.”

Keep checking back for more installments. Click on the links below for read the entire riveting story. And yes, put down your coffee or you’ll spit on the screen.

Vampire Diary

#1. Vampire Diary: The Beginning

#2. Vampire Diary: Intervention

#3. Vampire Diary: Game Day

#4. Vampire Diary: Feeling Alive

#5. Vampire Diary: Blood Red

#6. Vampire Diary: Embroiled in a Dream (and still cute)

#7. Vampire Diary: Something I do Understand

#8. Vampire Diary: Modern Worlds

#9. Vampire Diary: White Wedding

#10. Vampire Diary: Under the Beautiful Skye

#11. Vampire Diary: Connections

#12. Vampire Diary: The Black Sock Mystery

#13. Vampire Diary: Sharp Dressed Man

#14. Vampire Diary: Resolutions

#15. Vampire Diary: Man in the Red Suit

#16. Vampire Diary: Politics As Usual

#17. Vampire Diary: The Twilight Zone of Love

#18. Vampire Diary: Old Dogs, New Tricks, and Politics

#19. Vampire Diary: Eat Me Up

#20. Vampire Diary: In My Youth

#21. Vampire Diary: Modern Technology

#22. Vampire Diary: Dye Vampire Dye

#23. Vampire Diary: Music to My Ears

#24. Vampire Diary: Two Lips in the Middle of the Night

#25. Vampire Diary: Fangs Giving

#26. Vampire Diary: Drive Me Nuts

#27. Vampire Diary: It will be fun

#28. Vampire Diary: Shelf Critter Theater (Winner of the 2017 Evil Squirrel’s Nest Contest of Whatever)

#29. Vampire Diary: Music To My Ears (Broken Record Edition)

#30. Vampire Diary: Hot Mess

#31. Vampire Diary: Hot and Cold

#32. Vampire Diary: Love Letters

#33. Vampire Diary: Power and Tools

#34. Vampire Diary: Fortunes and Cookies

#35. Vampire Diary: Protecting the Cuteness

#36. Vampire Diary: Frankenstein

#37. Vampire Diary: Modern Knowledge

#38. Vampire Diary: Queer Eye for the Vampire Guy

#39: Vampire Diary: Bodice Ripping Fight Night

#40: Vampire Diary: You Can’t Go Home Again

#41: Vampire Diary: Whispering

#42: Vampire Diary: My Undead Life

#43: Vampire Diary: Jingle Bells

#44: Vampire Diary: Modern Problems

#45: A Squirrel Walked into a Bar

#46: Vampire Diary: Culture

#47: Vampire Diary: April’s Fool

#48: Vampire Diary: Mysteries

#48: Vampire Diary: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

#49: Vampire Diary: Man of Steel

#50: Vampire Diary: Stories Old and New

#51: Vampire Diary: Cats, Confusion, and Chainsaws

#52: Vampire Diary: Fall

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.