“What a bunch of idiots,” Jamie said to himself as he watched a mob of men run down the road brandishing knives and guns they didn’t even know how to use. They wouldn’t dare use them. Well, maybe they would – that is why Jamie had to hide. Now he was all dressed up with no place to go.
Now what? Maybe a trip to his favorite opium den for an easy meal or a trip to Madam Rosanna’s for a drink with one of her girls. At least the girls were clean and pretty, but the rush of opium infused blood sounded good right now.
Jamie ended up back home to change his bloody shirt. He knew his housekeeper would be able to get the stains out but it still annoyed him.
As he grabbed a new shirt out of the wardrobe the smell of jasmine and roses gently made him smile. He turned around.
“Belinda. What a delight.” She was indeed a delight but he didn’t expect to see her, not here in his house, much less in his bedroom.
The delicious sight in a silk green dress smiled and sat on his bed. “Your housekeeper let me in. I don’t think she approves but then again…” she didn’t finish her sentence but just laughed.
James brushed his lips across hers then slid his fangs across the side of her neck. “She doesn’t approve of you because she doesn’t know you.” His mouth went to Belinda’s again.
“You taste like blood,” she whispered.
“You taste like death darling Belinda.” Jamie took her hand and pulled her up. “I’m getting dressed. Let’s go out.”
They passed into the darkness outside, arm in arm, laughing quietly at their private jokes.
Maybe they’d go to the whore house or the opium den. Maybe they’d go to a musical revue or drop by and see friends. Anything was possible. Together, Jamie and Belinda always had a way of making everything fun – at least fun for them.
They decided on the theater but stopped in front of one of the larger churches in the center of the city. A bride and groom happily rode in their carriage to start a new life together. The bride was dressed in innocent white. The groom was happy and handsome.
Jamie and Belinda stood, arm in arm, and looked upon the happy couple.
“That could have been us,” said Belinda.
“We don’t deserve that kind of happiness,” said Jamie, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Why not? We could get married. We could be happy Jamie.”
“Oh darling, you’d drive me crazy. I’d have to kill you.”
“I’m already dead. Well, sort of dead.”
And under the gaslights by the church Jamie kissed Belinda. “Dead or alive, I love you Belinda. I always have. I always will.”
A cold tear ran down Belinda’s cheek. Jamie led her into the empty church and up to the alter. “Belinda, will you love me and stay with me always?”
“Jamie, will you love me and stay with me always?”
“I suppose. Aren’t we supposed to talk about till death do us part?”
“I didn’t think about that,” said Jamie.
“You wouldn’t now James would you?” She called him by his proper name, the way she thought a wife would.
They left the church and headed back to Jamie’s place. Over a glass of wine they made uncomfortable small talk.
“Will you stay the night Belinda?” He had to ask.
“If you’ll have me. Oh Jamie, we’re so awful. We really are. There has to be more.”
He thought about it for about a second. “Not really. We are what we are. We are who we are.”
Then he took her hand and led her back up to his room.
In the morning the world came alive, but they continued their sleep, wrapped in each other’s cold dead arms, as alive as they knew how to be.
How to write a response to a love letter (which is more fun if it isn’t addressed to YOU)
Part One: How to Write A Love Letter
How would I write a love letter?
As if I’d tell my teen that. Teens usually know but forget as they grow old and fearful.
I would write it by hand on a yellow legal pad with pencil. I would write it over and over until it was exactly right. Then I’d get a fine piece of stationary and write the perfect letter with perfect script.
There are different kinds of love letters. There are those that say: Hey, I really like you a lot, let’s get together. There are love letters that are heart breaking and say: I’m lost without you. There are those that say: You are the one, the only one, the absolute only one. And there are those that say: After all these years together I love you still and always and forever.
It is simple really.
Don’t sound desperate. That will turn someone off like a box full of baby rattlesnakes (I’ve been wanting to say that for a while).
Simple is good.
Poetic is always good.
The truth is good.
Don’t talk about YOU. Talk about the one you love.
Talk about US.
Abstract is good if it isn’t totally cryptic.
Using quotes from others is ok too if you are at a loss for words.
Write it and wait.
A good love letter is like wine; it needs to sit for a bit. Write it and wait. Then after you’ve waited look it again.
But that isn’t really what this is about…
Part Two: How to write a response to a love letter (which is more fun if it isn’t addressed to YOU)
I’m not the kind of person who spies on my spouse or kids. I don’t go through drawers (but I will go through an attic) or personal papers. I won’t even read your email or go through your phone. It just isn’t good to pry.
BUT that said…there are situations where ALL BETS ARE OFF.
In a little over a week my romantically minded, smart, funny and handsome son Garrett will turn 17. His best buddy Randy is throwing him a bash and they are all going to dress up. Top hats, tails, ball gowns, the works. But it is all vintage. The girls are at the vintage and thrift stores or raiding their mother’s closets. The boys are looking at what their fathers and grandfathers have plus raiding the thrift stores and vintage shops.
Garrett came downstairs in a beautiful long black coat. It came almost to his knees, beautifully cut. He looked so handsome, so much like his father.
“Dad said I could wear this. What do you think?”
“Wow. Perfect.” I remember long ago when my husband Teddy wore that coat. It was long before we married, in another time and place.
“Look what I found in the pocket.” Garrett held out a pale cream-colored envelope.
Inside was a note written in a beautiful script.
March 20, 1889
My Darling,
The sun shines but brings nothing so warm or bright as my memory of your kiss. Last night under the stars of heaven I thought I’d been taken by an angel. Yet, when I opened my eyes it was you with your arms around me. Your kiss took me away from the common world into the world of Venus and Mars. My heart quickens at the thought of you. The sound of your voice, the touch of your hand, your lips on mine.
My love, my life, my always.
Meet me tomorrow at the gates of the cathedral.
Until then my love,
Always and forever.
Mary
Oh my.
The three of us looked at each other then for no reason we started to laugh.
“So if you have to respond what would you write?” I asked this of my kids knowing they are always up for a creative challenge.
Thirteen-year-old Clara went first.
Dear Mary,
I’m in love with someone else. She is totally clueless to how I feel. She is the only one I want to hunt with. She makes me laugh. She is beautiful. I want her to be the mother of my children. I won’t have the courage to tell her for another 100 years. Sorry. Go find yourself a nice guy. I might be good looking but I’m a real pain in the butt. Most exceptionally good-looking guys are like that. We all think we’re “all that”. You don’t want a guy who thinks he is “all that”. Give it a few months and you won’t like me anymore. I bet you’ll hate me. Besides, I hate to break this to you but if you haven’t figured it out already I’m a Vampire.
You ROCK Mary and I know you’ll find someone better than I can ever be.
Theodore
Next Garrett read his letter aloud.
Dear Mary,
Your beauty lights up a room,
Both beauty of your body and soul,
Forgive me for being so forward,
To dare say,
You are dear, so dear to me.
But I must protect your heart,
And speak the truth,
I am a man of the shadows,
And would kill your sunshine,
And your glowing light and spirit.
I would never make you happy.
I will always treasure our time together.
You are beauty and light that I would never be able to hold.
Fly free Mary. Fly free and find love where you deserve it.
In the light,
In the sun,
With someone who can love you
The way you deserve to be loved.
Always in my heart,
Theodore
By then both of my children were laughing so hard they had slid off the couch and were on the floor.
So I wrote my response.
Darling Mary,
I would run my hands down your bare shoulders then kiss your beautiful neck. I would slowly undress you and gaze upon your beauty in the moonlight knowing that you are mine alone. I will take what I desire, but leave you with more than you could ever imagine. When you gasp your little sighs of pleasure I will sink my fangs into you and drain your blood from your body. I will fill your soul with dark carnal thoughts that will drive you insane and ruin you for any other man. Then I will leave you begging for more, never to see you again. So Mary, forget me, unless you want a life of ruin and insanity.
T
I folded that one up because there is no way I’d read THAT to my children.
I started over.
My dearest Mary,
I have not been honest with you. I have a wife and three children in America. I respect you too much to make you my mistress or even be your close friend.
I am sorry.
~ Theodore
We heard a loud engine and then the loud stereo. Teddy (Theodore) was home.
We didn’t tell him why we were all smiling but he liked way the jacket fit Garrett.
“Who is Mary?” Garrett asked his father. Clara started to giggle.
I put my arm around Teddy’s waist and handed him the letter.
“Mary? Oh right, she was a girl I met at a party in London. Pretty girl and insanely wealthy. She had a crush on your Uncle Maxwell. What, you didn’t think she wrote that letter to me did you? It was for Max.”
“What happened?” I asked in anticipation of a good story.
“Nothing. I never gave it to him. She didn’t know he was a Vampire or anything other than he was a charming man with an air of danger about him.”
“What happened to her?” 13-year-old Clara had to ask.
Teddy smiled. “Mary met the love of her life a few weeks later and lived a long and happy life.”
Which goes to show that sometimes the best love letters are those that are never sent.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman
Note to my readers: How to respond to a love letter (which is more fun if it isn’t addressed to YOU) was first published in 2013. To this day it remains the most popular post, year around, on Vampiremaman.com.
My eldest brother Max (10 years my senior) had asked his best friend Teddy to escort me home from the theater one evening. It was 1874. I was 15 years old.
“Your hands are so cold,” he said as he helped me up off of the muddy street onto the boardwalk.
I gave him a coy smile. “I have a cold heart sir.”
He laughed. I never called him sir. He offered me his arm.
I gladly took his arm. “Your hands are positively burning. What sort of fire stirs your soul tonight?” That was pretty forward but I didn’t care. I was floating with the joy of being a flirt and having no brothers or parents around to stop me.
“You’re not like the other girls.”
“No I am not.”
“You’re an impish little thing. It will take a man with a quick wit and a good sense of humor to woo you Juliette.”
“Ahhhh, but you forget I have four older brothers. I pity any man who would have to deal with them.”
“They’ll love any man who is truly in love with you Juliette.”
“I doubt that Teddy.”
Then he stopped and faced me. “I have some news. A secret if you can keep one.”
“Your secrets are always safe with me.”
Teddy had a large smile on his handsome face. “I’m getting married.”
My young Vampire heart literally stopped dead. My head started to spin, but I managed to smile because like all Vampires, I was a natural liar. “Oh Teddy. I’m so happy for you. She really is lovely.”
I wished I could just turn to putrified slime and slip into the dirt like the dead in the cemetery but instead I found a dark place to curl up in for the rest of the night. Teddy would now be lost to me forever. No more laughing at silly jokes with him. No more having him give me sly smiles. No more watching him and my brother Max in awe as they turned from boys to real men.
Teddy would be moving on to the world of married men where there was no room for girls who laughed too loud and talked too much. There was no room for Vampires. Sure, once I was older and became an icy cold elegant woman like my Vampire mother I could entertain Teddy and his bride, but until then it was over. He might has well have died – at least that is what I was feeling in my cold quiet teenage heart.
Teddy had no idea how different any of us were. He had no idea that his father’s business partner was a Vampire. Teddy had no idea what a Vampire was.
While they were away to college Teddy never really questioned why my brother Max would go out in the middle of the night. He imagined it was a woman or gambling or just a restless spirit. Like all of us, Max was brilliant at hiding his true nature.
The young woman of good breeding whom Teddy had become engaged to was sweet. That was her only attribute aside from being considered pretty. She wanted nothing more in life than to be the wife of a successful man. The fact that Teddy was the most handsome human I’d ever seen in my life, interesting, smart and funny was just an added bonus. Other than the fact that Teddy thought she’d be a good match there was nothing remarkable about her. Good breeding. Good reputation. Good girl. I didn’t even think about passion. Thinking about that would be almost as bad as thinking about my parents having any kind of passion (remember I was 15 years old.)
Teddy’s love wasn’t out sucking blood out of people in the middle of the night. She was in bed alone dreaming of angels and kittens. She was the kind of girl he dreamed of and I am sure he dreamed of her at night.
I wished I was like her. I wished I was sweet and warm like a her. I touched my icy hands against my cheeks and closed my eyes and then wiped away cold tears. No amount of wishing could make me warm. No amount of wishing could make me walk in the sunshine without dark glasses or a parasol. No amount of charm or wit could make him continue to be buddies with me, a girl who lived in the shadow of the night. He’d never love me.
I found my brother Val and told him the news. Val, who is only 16 at the time, thought I was being silly. He didn’t understand. He was a boy. Teddy could still be friends with a boy.
Max came up on the roof where I ended up that night. He sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. “Teddy is like family. He’ll still be here for a long long time. With any luck he’ll live a long life and we’ll always be able to watch over him and protect him.”
I closed my eyes knowing it was a battle I couldn’t win.
“Listen Jewels, part of growing up is letting go, that means letting go of everyone else who is growing up and moving on. It won’t just be Teddy. All of us will have to go out in the world and make our way. We’ll all find love. We’ll find it with people like ourselves, other Vampires. People move on, but the human heart, and our hearts have a great capacity for love. You have to treasure that love because as we move on, they, the regular humans grow old and they die. I’ve seen Mother and Father mourn the loss of their friends in the worst way. We’ve mourned the loss of friends in the worst way. But Teddy isn’t dead. Be happy for him. He’ll still be my best friend. He’ll still be your friend.”
We sat on the roof until the sun came up and talked of life and love and loss.
A year later Teddy died and didn’t die. He became a Vampire (not from anything we did and very much against his will.) The wedding never happened. After that we all went our separate ways and had our share of love and adventure and friendship.
After Teddy acclimated to being a Vampire we became great friends. Twenty years ago we got married. That isn’t typical of anyone, but then again, not much is typical in my life.
As my own children become older and closer to being adults they’ll have to deal with friends moving away, getting in relationships and changing in ways they can’t imagine. Some friendships will last those changes, but many won’t. The fact that we can’t always predict these things doesn’t make it any easier, but at least we can talk with our kids about these things. We can be there when they need someone to talk to. And that day will come.
I have been fortunate to have friends who’ve been in my life since those days when I used to sit on the roof of my parent’s house and ponder the meaning of life. Sometimes my friends would sit on the roof with me. Sometimes my brothers would join us. We’re not sitting on the roof anymore, but we’re still talking and laughing and having warm hearts to go with our cold hands.
———————————
First posted: 2/20/14
Thank you for dropping by. I’m on the road right now with Teddy. I’ll have a lot of new material when I return. xoxo
“We pumped quite a bit of blood out of your stomach. We’re not sure where it came from.”
She heard the words but was the noise in her head was still loud…
“Your heart had stopped beating. You weren’t breathing. You were cold.”
A hospital bed. She was in a bed hooked up to equipment. Her throat hurt.
“We still can’t get your body temperature up to normal and your heart beat is extremely slow.”
She’d been found in a room of an abandoned house wearing nothing but a black silk cocktail dress and black high heeled sandals. The nails on her hands and feet were painted silver. Aside from that there was no jewelry, no purse, no identification. The man she’d been with had received minor injuries and would be in soon to see her. He said he was her boyfriend. Panic started to set in but she didn’t show it.
“Do you remember anything?”
“Not a lot.” She lied. She had remembered almost everything, despite the headache. The man called Austin had wanted to show her a house he was remodeling. He specialized in renovating Victorians and older historic homes. It was charming. It was haunted. “Is Austin alright?”
“He had a few stitches in his forehead, but yes, he is doing fine.”
“We left the club where we met. I mean, it wasn’t a hook up, we’d been seeing each other for a while. We’re friends. He told me about his work restoring old homes. I own some property I was thinking of having restored…He took me to a house he owns. It’s old, nobody lives there. A Queen Ann style Victorian. Beautiful. He showed me around and we ended up in an upstairs room.” She didn’t tell him of the phantoms and the screams that nearly burst her ear drums. She paused, and glanced at the needle in her arm. “Alright, we did fool around some. But we both started to feel really sick. He passed out first. I tried to wake him. I think we were drugged at the bar. Is he ok?”
“I’m fine sweetheart.” In the door stood a man with a bandage on his forehead. His brown eyes met her blue with almost a spark of both passion and hate. He smiled at the doctor.
“She’s a vampire and I’m a vampire hunter. I had no idea the house was haunted when I took her there. Sorry, it’s along running joke between us. Isn’t it Elizabeth?”
Her eyes met his again. A hunter hunting the huntress. “Is that all I am to you?”
He sat next on the edge of the bed and took her cold hand. “You need to warm up dear or they’ll never let you out of here. I know, it takes a lot of effort to keep your heart beating for those machines. You don’t want them thinking you’re dead.”
To think she was starting to fall in love with this man.
“I thought you were going to kill me last night but you saved my life. Why’d you do that Elizabeth?
Doctor Davis spoke up. “What is going on here?”
Austin smiled and spoke in a quiet calming voice. “I’m sorry for the confusion. We have our own language. We had a fight. She wasn’t going to kill me. Just an expression. She was angry. You know, I’m a typical guy. I did typical stupid guy stuff. We went to the house and like she said, we were both feeling sick. Then someone came in and mugged us. She saved me. I don’t know how, but she defended me. It was too dark to tell what was going on. We had a tumultuous relationship but we’re not violent, just a little dramatic.”
“He’d never touch me.” Elizabeth looked back at Austin. “The ones who attacked us… I had no idea. I’ve never experienced anything like that.”
“I thought you’d know.”
“I don’t.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
They both talked to the police about what had happened. Their story was the same. They’d gone to a house he owned, it was unoccupied, they were attacked. They both had traces of an airborne toxin in their systems.
Elizabeth was released into Austin’s care. She’d told him she’d call a taxi but he insisted on bringing her home.
On the way he talked. She sat still, feeling sick, trying to regain her energy. The morning sun burned her eyes even through the fog.
“So my building, the house we were in last night is haunted. Those were ghosts.”
Elizabeth glanced over at him, then looked away. “Yes, they were ghosts. I know someone who can get rid of them for you. He’s good and his prices are reasonable.”
“You know Elizabeth, I’ve found at least a dozen of your kind, vampires, in the basements of abandoned old buildings I’ve purchased for restoration. They weren’t like you. They were like rats.”
“I’m not like them. I don’t live in the shadows or in a crypt. I don’t sleep in a coffin. Most of us aren’t like your rats. We live normal lives.”
“When were you born?”
“1834. I’ve been a vampire since 1853. How did you know?”
He gave her a mean smile. “Call it a 6th sense. My grandfather hunted vampires. It’s in my blood, no pun intended.”
They arrived at her house. He was impressed. A beautiful craftsman style, maybe 2,500 square feet, nice old neighborhood. Inside the woodwork was beautiful. Her decorating was a combination of period and modern. Nice.
“You can go,” she told him.
“Show me around. This place is great.”
“I’m the original owner. 1905.”
As she showed him around Austin noticed a diploma in her office. “You didn’t tell me you were an attorney. Go figure.”
“I told you I consulted for the Justice Department. There is no shame in what I do.”
The house was impressive as was the vampire who lived in it. “Was that my blood they pumped out of your stomach?”
“Most of it. Don’t worry, you won’t turn into a Vampire. I just took maybe a pint.”
Austin noticed a mirror on the wall. He took Elizabeth by the shoulders and turned her around to face it. He could see his own reflection but hers was just a dim shadow.
“Look at my eyes, in the mirror. Look at my eyes,” she told him.
Their eyes locked in the glass. Her image became clear. He laughed. It wasn’t the sarcastic bitter laugh she’d heard all morning. This was joy.
“Elizabeth, will you be alright if I leave you?”
“You aren’t going to kill me?”
“Not today.”
“Then when? When will you be back to cut out my heart and cut off my head.”
“Do you want to go out sometime on a real date?”
“You’re scaring me Austin.”
“I know. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around 8:00. It should be dark by then. Wear something nice.”
She watched through the window as he drove away. Her heart had stopped beating. She wasn’t breathing. In the refrigerator was a bottle of blood. She was starving. Her head was light but that was because of him.
Austin drove away with a smile on his face. What a rush. He wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring. Either he’d kill her or he’d marry her. That is, if she didn’t kill him first.
~ END
First published in 2014. This is the first story in the Austin and Elizabeth series.
I missed the entire 18th, 19th and 20th centuries.
I missed the Industrial Revolution. I missed the American Revolution. I missed the advent of electricity, flight, recorded sound, the telegraph, moving pictures, smooth jazz, photography, the Wild West, Art Deco, and most of all I missed the Victorian era. Yes, it seems that there was a period in which a great small sour looking Queen named Victoria ruled the world, told people not to make love, and then had many children herself. I do not understand that logic, but rulers are not often driven by logic.
Before I came into this modern world I now call home, I was living in a period now which is now called Baroque. I thought we would never change. I could not have been better. I loved the clothing. I loved the music. Life was good, especially if one was a Vampire. My world was by candle light in the dark, under skies of millions of stars.
And that fated evening, my last evening in my own time, I went out for the night, my hair curled and flowing around my shoulders and down my back, a silk and wool coat hung perfectly, with wide sleeves, and lace, and … then, then it went black with a pointed stake that grazed my heart, and then… then I was locked away for three hundred years.
It was 1714 when I was stabbed in the heart and locked away. And when I was rescued centuries later by my dear friends I found myself in a strange horrifying science fiction landscape that I could have never imagined in my wildest Vampire nightmares.
All things had changed.
The night my love Gillian and friend Randolpho broke into the crypt and rescued me is still a dark cloud in my mind.
I remember Randolpho’s voice, “Oh my God his hair is full of bugs. Rats have eaten his clothes.”
I awoke on an airplane, flying high in the sky to a country which did not exist in my world before. I was wearing a black tee-shirt, a button down charcoal colored Oxford shirt, and blue jeans. My hair was now to my shirt collar. It is what everyone wears they told me. And so it was. I was also extremely clean. Everyone is clean now. That is one thing that makes life as a Vampire easier in this modern world.
Tonight I was driving in my car and turned on the radio. At the touch of a finger I can hear any music of any era, even Baroque music. A song came on. I listened in wonder.
Love bites, love bleeds It’s bringin’ me to my knees Love lives, love dies It’s no surprise Love begs, love pleads It’s what I need
It was by a band called “Def Leppard.” Why they call themselves after cats who cannot hear I do not know. The song reminded me of when my wife left, and it made me think of those years alone in the crypt. Yes, love bites. It bleeds. I wonder if that song was written by a Vampire. It must have been. I bite. I bleed. I am not yet at my knees.
It is Yule time. I must not be so melancholy.
My two cats who can hear all too well crawled into my lap and started to purr. There is even comfort in this world for a sad Vampire.
~ Vlad
Dear Diary,
I missed the 19th Century. I missed the waltz. I missed the waltz when it was new. I missed that first time when one could dance close in a ballroom, a hand on a woman’s waist, close and touching. So close I could put my lips on her neck and nobody would notice as I scraped my fangs across her neck.
Gillian has told me that we have been invited to three Victorian themed events.
“What do you mean?” I asked her.
“We dress up in Victorian clothing and go back in history,” she tells me.
“I was never there,” I tell her. “And how do you expect us to go back into history. If I want back it would be to the eighteenth century and I would…”
“Stop it Vlad,” she said almost growling at me. She almost growled like an angry animal. “We do it for the fun. It is all pretend. We do it because it is Christmas.”
“What does wearing those ridiculous top hats and huge skirted dresses, and following the prudish morals of a pinched nosed British queen have to do with Christmas? Tell me.”
She went to the shelf and grabbed a book and threw it at me. “Read this Vlad,” she demanded.
I poured myself a goblet of mulled blood and read the damn book by a man called Charles Dickens.
The book reminded me of one night four hundred years ago.
It had been a night of violence and blood. Back in my castle, in my private chambers I stripped off my clothing and washed the blood off of my hands, and out of my hair. My hair which was down to the middle of my back at that time like a river of honey gold. I could still feel their fire in my eyes, and anger in my soul.
The window blew open, and in flew an apparition, a large ghostly man with no head. He carried what seemed to be a black velvet bag. He stood silent in front of me.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” I asked the ghostly figure.
He slowly opened the bag and pulled out a head. Then he put the head in the crook of his arm turning the face towards me. It was Fabio, the former leader of the Vampires who lived to the south of my lands. We had gone into battle together. We had plotted against our enemies together. We had loved women together. We drank blood together, and bonded as an impenetrable force of Vampire power.
“Fabio, my brother, what brings you here on this Yule night?”
“Silence,” he cried in a voice like a banshee. “I was foolish and lost my head. I lusted after blood, and power, and never gave a thought to anything except my own desires.”
“I am sorry to hear that Fabio,” I said.
“Silence Vald, King of Vampires, Ruler of the People of the Night. You must listen to me,” he said, then he began to howl like the hounds of Hell.
“Stop,” I yelled at him.
“All of the Vampires in the world believe Vampire Hunters killed me, but YOU Vlad cut off my head and threw it in the moat of your castle.”
“You slept with my wife, and then you killed my dog. What was I supposed to do?” I said.
“It was her idea,” said Fabio.
“What about my dog Fabio? My wolfhound Princess?” I responded. “Was it her idea too?”
He waved his head in front of my face. “You, Vlad are a good Vampire, but you are a bad man.” he said, “Today you will be visited by your past, your present, and your future.”
“No, Fabio,” I told him. “As usual you make no sense at all. You are insane. The sun will be up in an hour and I will sleep. Be gone and stay away from my wife, and my dogs.”
He screamed at me and flew out the window. I slammed the window closed, drew the curtains, locked the door, then crawled into my bed and fell into a deep Vampire sleep.
I had a dream. It was a dream of Yule Time when I was a young Vampire. My sister and I were traveling home along the mountain roads. We stopped at a village. Village people danced around a fire while we listen to the screams of those who were tied to poles and burning in the center.
My sister grabbed my arm and asked, “Why Vlad, why do they do such horrible things to their own kind.”
“Why are you burning these people?” I asked a man standing next to us.
“The priest said they were evil so they must burn.”
“Were they evil?” I asked.
“I never really thought about it,” said the man. “They said women should be treated equally as men. They said that people should question what the priest says.”
My sister and I went to the Priest. We burned his hands off, then cut off his feet. We drained his body of blood.
My sister said, “I need to go home but father does not want to see you.”
Then my dream vanished like smoke in a dark moonless night.
I was awakened by the sweet voice of a woman, with her hand on my bare chest. It was Yule of present time.
“Vlad,” she whispered. “Wake up.”
It was my wife, the beautiful Aloisia. I put my arms around her and pulled her into a kiss. She looked into my eye and locked them on mine.
“Vlad, I am leaving you. I am done with you.”
“Aloisia, why?”
“I am sick of you,” she said. I can not even write down what else she said to me that night. Then she was gone. I never saw her again. She is out there somewhere but I know not where that somewhere is.
I fell back asleep after several hours. At around 2:30 p.m. a pale white man in a silver robe came into the room. He opened the curtains and nearly blinded me with the light.
“Who are you?” I said, sitting up and showing him my fangs.
He just pointed at me and laughed. I could not see his face due to a large hat and a mask like the beak of a ghostly white bird.
“Special Delivery,” he hissed as he dropped an envelope on my bed. Then he closed the curtains and vanished into thin air. Another ghost maybe or some sort of demon. I hate ghosts.
I cracked the unfamiliar seal on the envelope and found a book with blank pages. What did that mean? A blank book? Was it magic? Was it printed with invisible ink? Was it meant to be a threat.
It was a diary.
My life changed after that night. I did not send a turkey to any family or meet a small limping boy, but my life as a Vampire did change forever.
I was no Scrooge but I too have strange things happen to me when I sleep.
~ Vlad
Dear Diary,
My lover Gillian informed me AGAIN that we must dress up and pretend to be Victorians. I asked her if that is what they call Cosplay with much sarcasm in my voice. Gillian told me not to be stupid, whereas a heated argument ensued.
~ Vlad
Dear Diary,
This evening I was out for a walk and saw my neighbor Helen, a glorious woman of seventy.
I remember a time when most people did not live to be seventy, especially woman. Those who lived for a long time were either those with great luck, or vampires.
Helen, of the beautiful face, and flowing gray hair, was out with her dog, a large yellowish best. At one time she had been a dancer. She is still a dancer.
“Helen teach me how to dance the waltz,” I said to her.
And so in the street, under the light of the waning moon, and multicolored Christmas lights she trained me in the waltz.
What a joy it was.
She sang the music as I held her with one hand in her hand, and the other hand on her waist. I could smell her blood in her veins, along with the slight scent of roses and gardenia in her hair. I was exhilarated.
When we were done she laughed and said, “Vlad, you did great. You are so cute.”
This cute I do not understand, but I do now understand the waltz.
~ Vlad
Dear Diary,
I am exhilarated. Tonight I waltzed with Gillian all night long at a “Dickens Party.” I will admit I enjoyed the clothing, though Gillian and Randolpho said I cannot wear it all of the time.
All of the women there called Randolpho “Randy.” I asked if he was randy and he just smiled and winked. What do they say about naughty or nice? Depending on who is asking I suppose Randolpho could be both.
After the party, alone in our room, I helped Gillian unlace her corset. That Dear Diary is my favorite part of Victorian clothing. Gillian calls it gift wrap. It is a wonderful gift indeed.
Unlike the cowboys in the Wild West (I have seen movies and read about that time in history which I missed) I did not leave my hat or my boots on.
And, what else do they say? Yes. And to all a good night.
A few nights ago we had friends for dinner. Let me reword that. We dined with good friends of ours. It was two couples we’re friends with (they’re regular humans who don’t know we’re Vampires). It is a dress up affair. We have cocktails; take in the theater or a concert, then have dinner and more drinks. And my darling husband Teddy and I get a little blood donation and leave our hosts feeling warm and fuzzy and full of holiday cheer.
I wore a black dress with red heels. It was set off with a gold necklace of delicate flowers with red garnets, enameled holly leaves and seed pearls.
One of my friends commented “You wear that beautiful necklace every year. There must be a story behind it.”
“Teddy gave me this on our first Christmas together. It was his mother’s.” I told everyone the truth, but didn’t tell them the entire story behind it.
It was in the 1880’s. My brother Val and I were young Vampires in London, which was the place to be. It was a golden age for us.
Of course being the young American Vampires we were…we got into a lot of trouble and had way too many adventures of the wrong kind.
So to make a long story short, it was Christmas Eve when Val and I found ourselves trapped in a crypt. Yes, a crypt full of rotting human bodies, not a fit place for any self respecting Vampire of a certain social level. We were of a higher social level. We had class, culture, good looks and money. Most of all we had connections. What Val and I lacked was common sense and experience.
So we’re in this crypt, chased by Vampire Hunters, Rogue Vampires who were pissed off at us, AND the local police.
We were also trapped. Yes, being the super strong creatures that we are, we could have busted down the door, but that would have done three things. It would have shown a lack of respect for those who were interned in the crypt. It would have made a lot of noise and attracted too much attention. But most of all, we were wearing rather expensive clothing if that clothing were to be ripped it would have drawn too much attention.
So we waited to figure out a plan B or to be rescued. Plan B was our only real option.
Just as we were about to sit on the ground and wait until the next night to break our way out the door started to slide open. We waited, fangs barred, holding on to each other for dear life, yet ready to kill whatever came through to us.
We saw a lone figure shadowed in the doorway.
I could hear a slight hiss under Val’s breath as he readied himself for an attack. Then a voice with a definite American accent said “Valentine? Juliette? Oh my heavens! Is that really you?”
And out of the shadows came Teddy. I hadn’t seen him for 10 years, not since he’d become a Vampire.
We said quick greetings and I asked “What are you doing here?”
He lifted the lid from one of the stone caskets. “This woman couldn’t steal my father’s heart so she stole my mother’s jewelry. I’m here to get it back. I never expected in a hundred years to find you two here.” And with one swift movement he took the necklace from around the neck of a slightly un-fresh corpse and then removed her bracelet and ring.
Suddenly we heard footsteps and saw torches across the lawn. I recognized the voices. “Let’s go. They’re back.” And they were in full force, come to kill the Vampires, who just happened to be us.
We ran down the road as fast as we could. I help my skirt up around my knees and cursed the day I was born a girl. Damn it trousers would have been nice right then.
A cathedral lay ahead, lit up for the Christmas Eve service.
“We can’t go in there,” said Teddy in a panic.
“Why not?” Asked Val.
“Because,” said Teddy “We’re undead. We’re Vampires. We’ll die.”
“We’re not undead. Your heart beats. You have not one but two souls. You are a creature of the night, and this is a midnight service. We will be welcome and blessed for we do harm to no one.”
I grabbed Teddy by one hand and Val by the other and took them into the church. We sat in the back and quietly sang along with our angelic Vampire voices, savoring the candle light and peace of the moment.
After it was over we headed for home, a fashionable and safe house not far away.
“I thought it wasn’t safe for our kind in churches,” said Teddy.
“It usually isn’t.” Val said, brushing off his coat. “But they can’t hurt us in a church. Or at least they do not dare hurt us there. Besides, I like the music. It soothes me.”
“What did you mean about two souls? I thought my soul was gone.” Teddy looked at us in a very serious way.
“Do you think that anyone with so much love and passion could exist without a soul? Oh Teddy, don’t be such a child. We need two souls. One for our own existence and one for our shadow. Didn’t you know that?”
The first rays of dawn arrived as we arrived at the house. Teddy crashed in one of the spare bedrooms. But before he slept, he put the necklace he’d taken around my neck. “My mother always liked you. She would have wanted you to have this.”
I was honored and touched. Since then I’ve worn this necklace every Christmas season.
This story was first published here in 2012 but it is one of my favorite Christmas time memories. Hope you enjoyed it. And why yes, I’m going to a party this afternoon and wearing my Christmas necklace! Yes, this is a true story.
