Vampire Diary: Love Letters

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Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did not look up, “A legal pad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My darling Lydia,

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

“What is this?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you going to make her love me?”

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

I put pen upon paper and wrote….

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

I have nothing more to say.

~ Vlad

 

Romantic Lovers

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

Short Story Sunday: Motorhome

Motorhome
An Austin and Elizabeth Story

Austin grew up knowing that Grammy didn’t have many filters. She’d say anything she wanted to anyone. Austin’s mother said Grammy had always been rude. Grammy said she was giving out good advice that might make people want to do something about their situations. Everyone was in a situation so everyone was told what they needed to do.

Grammy’s caretaker, a lovely woman named Kayla, had texted Austin the following:

“Just a warning, Grammy is in a mood today. Completely speaking with no filter. We talked to Tom across the street. Grammy asked how they were doing and before he could say anything she said, “well it looks like you and your wife have completely given up on loosing weight.” I nudged her in hopes she would stop but it didn’t work. She then went on to say, “I thought you guys were dieting. Looked like you’ve completely given up on losing weight. Tom was so red embarrassed. I said he is healthy and happy and always smiling, so I told him to have a nice day and closed the door before Grammy could say anything else. I then said “OMG Grammy u can’t ever tell people that they are overweight. Ever. Men or women. It is not to be discussed. Don’t tell women they look pregnant. None of it. She said “Well maybe if I say something that will make them want to lose weight.” I said, “NO. NO. NO. Nothing you say will change them. You’re just being terrible at that point. No more ever.” Grammy’s mind is in it’s own place sometimes. Tomorrow is a new day. I told her she is the cutest sweetest little Grammy in the world. She has to stop thinking and saying such negative things.”

Austin was mortified. Tom had been a good friend for years, and would do anything for Grammy. But sweet little Grammy had a dark suspicious side. She’d grown up in the Deep South where people generally have fewer filters than those from other regions of the country. She’d also grown up in a family of Vampire Hunters. It was in their blood, no pun intended.

When Austin arrived at Grammy’s house he wondered who the old motor home in the driveway belonged to.

Kayla, a rail thin brown haired, blue eyed woman in her forties came out to meet him. She and her college student son Colt live with Grammy and took care of her in her great big family home. At one time Austin had tried to get Grammy to sell her house and move into a smaller house in his neighborhood, just three houses down from him, but she’d have none of it. She’d rather complain about money and upkeep than move out of the house she’d lived in for sixty-two years.

“Is someone visiting?” Austin looked toward the motor home.

“I bought that last week. I’m going to take Grammy on a road trip.”

It was a small 1981 motor home complete with faded orange and red stripes on the outside.

“Wow, look at this thing,” said Austin.

“Come inside. Take a look,” said Kayla inviting him in through the back door.

Grammy was sitting on an orange couch that could fold out into a double bed. There was a table, a small kitchen, four captain’s chairs, and a tiny bathroom complete with a toilet, sink, and a shower.

“Hey, Grammy,” Austin said bending down to kiss her.

Grammy was small, and still quite pretty for an eighty eight year old lady. Her white hair had been done up the day before with pink foam curlers. She wore bright pink lipstick, a pink flowered shirt, and matching pink pants.

Grammy took his hands, “Austin. What do you think of our new castle on wheels?”

“Great,” said Austin. “The orange and red carpet is pretty ugly, but otherwise it’s great.”

“I don’t see any problems with the carpet. It looks almost new to me,” said Grammy. “Now, Austin, are you still seeing that Vampire girl?”

Austin was in love with a woman who just happened to be a Vampire. He knew it wasn’t exactly the right thing to do but…

“But,” he said, “Grammy, Elizabeth isn’t a shadow creeper, or one of those ghoulish undead types. She lives a pretty normal life. You know the kinds of Vampires I help get rid of, and Elizabeth isn’t one of them.”

“You know those Vampires aren’t right. They do nothing but cause problems. Austin you’re an idiot for getting involved with one.”

“Grammy, Elizabeth isn’t that different from us.”

“That’s what you say. But the next thing you know they’ll be coming out of the shadows. I bet you the first thing they’ll do is call the ACLU and get a bunch of lawsuits in place against us normal people asking for rights and then some. Then they call AARP because they’re all older than dirt. You can’t trust them Austin. Listen to me. You are going to have nothing but trouble ahead of you. Nothing but trouble.”

“OK Grammy, I get your point.”

“I hope so. I don’t want you marrying one of those things. You haven’t have sexual intercourse with that Vampire of yours yet have you?”

“Grammy, I’m not going to talk about this anymore.”

“Are you still killing Vampires?”

“Only the ones without souls.”

“Well, how do you know if they have souls? They’re all a bunch of fanged faced liars.”

“Grammy, I know. I’m a Vampire Hunter. I can tell. It’s in my blood.”

“Well, your blood will be their blood if you don’t watch out.”

Kayla, who’d gone inside to make iced tea, came back out with three tall cold glasses full of iced tea with fresh mint. This wasn’t the popular sweet tea, but strong freshly brewed black tea with just a hint of lemon and mint. Grammy wouldn’t allow anyone to ruin her good tea with the addition of sugar.

Grammy took a sip of her tea and said, “I don’t know why your mom and dad had to name you after a city.”

Kayla smiled. “Be nice Grammy. You know Austin was where they fell in love.”

“Well, maybe. But it sounds like a character out of a trashy cheap romance novel,” said Grammy.

And she wasn’t kidding.

Austin had dinner with Kayla, her son Colt, and Grammy. They’d dined on garlic coated shrimp in a pasta, along with mushrooms and more garlic. Grammy always made sure she had garlic in all of her food to keep the Vampires away now that she had retired. Austin knew for a fact that garlic didn’t keep Vampires away.

Conversation became pleasant and without any caustic remarks. Grammy was charming and full of joy. Kayla looked relieved.

As Austin left his Grammy gave him a hug and a kiss. Then she said, “I wish you’d find a normal girl.”

Austin smiled and said, “Normal girl? Grammy, you of all people should know there is no such thing.”

Grammy just said, “pasha,” and closed the door in her grandson’s face.

 

~ End

Read all of the Austin and Elizabeth Stories (The Hunter Series) from the start.  Click here for the full set.

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Demons

I’ve had several posts mentioning Demons, especially concerning my brother Max. A few years ago I visited him at his house in San Francisco. Our parents and brother Andy, also live in the City by the Bay. I’m the one everyone calls when things get weird. Max is single and lives alone, and I’m also married to Teddy, his best friend since childhood.

Anyway, this is why we don’t like Demons around, at least one of the reasons.

strangereyes

My eldest brother Max, for those of you who don’t know, is one of those alpha Vampires who hunts Vampire Hunters, Rogue Vampires and all sorts of nasty evil and just plain annoying creatures and things that go bump in the night. He is a hunter and sometimes a killer – that said, he and his associates protect us all from things we shouldn’t need to deal with.

Max looked like Hell warmed over. He’d been out on a call and found himself up against a group of Demons. Yes, that kind of Demon – nasty and evil, no doubt straight from Hell and running rampant trying to cause problems anywhere it could.

Teddy still has the cold hard fear of Demons. That isn’t a bad thing. We don’t like them. They’re creatures that don’t derive from humanity but like goblins, have no problems pretending they derive from humans.

A long nasty deep pair of scratches ran across Max’s arm. There was no sign of healing on the ugly red marks. He’d been cornered and put up a fight before his back-up team arrived. The Demons were taken care of but not first without doing damage to Max and who knows who or what else.

Late into the night we talked over several bottles of wine and blood. Our brother Andy came by as well for a few hours to visit. Max was restless the entire night. Just before dawn we all retired to spend a rare day sleeping (Teddy and I live during the daylight due to school hours.)

I was awake before dusk. It was a beautiful clear day. From the back window I could see a panoramic view of the San Francisco Bay going out into the Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge. No wonder Max loved living here so much.

In the kitchen making tea I discovered Max’s old friend Celeste. She was beautiful beyond compare, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties and a magnificent seal skin coat. That wasn’t unusual because Celeste is a Selkie. On the land she is a women and in the ocean a seal. I was and wasn’t surprised to find her there. Max says he won’t mingle with those who aren’t like him, but I know who his friends are. I have no problems with Celeste or her kind.

Celeste rolled her shoulders and told me about my brother. “He called me last night. Said he needed some distraction. You know how Max is. His brain just gets full or he gets bothered and doesn’t know what to do about it. You know, Juliette we’re just friends with benefits. I just fuck him and talk. Nothing else. You think I’d be crazy enough to fall in love with a Vampire? Not on your life. Just friends. Always just friends.

Celeste then put a wedge of lemon in her tea and continued, “There is someone else, a Vampire girl he has a strange sort of bond with, but he doesn’t want any emotional entanglements with her. He was afraid she’d be too much for him, for his heart. I’ve never seen a guy try to logic and think his way out of falling in love like Max has this time.”

I saw a long burn along Celeste’s arm. “Oh that. I brushed against Max’s arm where the demon scratched him. Damned if it didn’t burn me too. The salt water will heal it. But you need to check in on him. He’s in pretty bad shape. The Demons really got to him this time and not just physically. They really fucked with him big time,” she told me in her whiskey and silk voice.

I took her arm and looked at the burn. It was hot to the touch. I spit on my finger and rubbed it along the burn.

“It stopped hurting. Thanks,” she said with a smile full of sharp white teeth. It was a smile that she won’t show a Regular Human. I have to admit I was flattered.

After a bit more small talk she left and no doubt went back into the Pacific Ocean and turned back into a seal.

I went upstairs to Max’s room. He was asleep, curled in soft gray blankets wearing a black silk robe. I took his arm and looked at the deep scratches that had turned an angry blackish red.

He opened his eyes. The usual blue gray hazel had turned dark, almost a dull black. I could tell he wasn’t well.

“I saw Celeste. She is worried about you.”

He gave me a “join the club” look. He didn’t need to say it out loud.

Taking his arm, I put my hand over the poisoned gashes and saw the ugly face of the Demon who clawed him.

“Don’t little sister. You’ll get sick,” Max said.

Ignoring him pricked my finger with the tip of my fang and let a drop of blood fall on his wounds. I put my hand back on his arm and willed the poison away.

Yes, I did end up making it to the bathroom before I threw up and almost fell over from my head spinning, but I was fine after a few minutes (ok hours). The poison wasn’t meant for me so I was fine – bothered but fine. It could have stayed with Max for weeks or even months. It could have set him back into a spiral of depression and hopelessness that if not taken care of could have done permanent damage. Demons are like that. They’re horrible evil things.

I kissed his cold cheek and left my brother to sleep.

When someone you love is poisoned by Demons you need to help them get through it – no matter what kind of Demons. They do a lot of damage, but it can be fixed. Demons hate any kind of love or understanding and will poison us against it. So we fight them. And those like Max fight them so they can’t hurt anyone else.

Like I’ve said, when you’re a Modern Vampire every single day has the potential of being weird, but we do what we can do avoid it.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Short Story Sunday: Fallen

Fallen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re just friends.”

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

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

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

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

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

Max started to pull the robe open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ End

Short Story Sunday: A Change of Heart

A Change of Heart

The Demon sat on the roof of the house wondering what to do next. She looked around wondering how they put on the roof with such a steep pitch. 12/12 she figured. Standing up she stretched out her leathery wings and brushed back her hair with claw tipped fingers.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know her job. It wasn’t like she wasn’t trained right. It wasn’t like everything she was ever to be was to be wasn’t drilled into her head for centuries.

Flying to the next yard over she found, the handsome Vampire sitting in a chair, with a goblet of blood and his Nook. She knew him. He would know what to do. He would help.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” the Demon told the Vampire.

“What do you mean?” He glared at her with no light in his eyes.

“I am so frustrated with everything. I want to open an art gallery, the kind with pictures of seascapes and sunflowers. I want to paint and draw, all the while promoting up and coming artists. I’ve got a knack for marketing so I know I could make it work.”

“What sort of stupid trick is this?”

“No trick. I just…I just don’t know how to be…to get out of my contract. I can’t very well ask my boss about it.”

“Why not?”

“I’d be sent back into the fire as a pitch fork handler. I’d never see the light of day again.” She looked into his ocean colored eyes with her yellow-orange orbs. “You’re a Vampire so you don’t know what it is like to have someone own your very being. I’m not my own creature. The Master of Evil owns me. Damn it. This is not what I want. It is not who I want to be.”

“Do any of your peers feel this way?”

“No. They’re happy. They’re content. Seriously what is wrong with me? Who wouldn’t want to spend the day convincing people to have affairs, feel crazy, commit murder and abuse elderly people and twist the necks of animals until they die a slow and painful death. The rush of it all is exhilarating, like the best sex anyone could every have. I mean who wouldn’t want that? Who wouldn’t want the rush and thrill of convincing someone to sell their soul? That is the ultimate. Damn, do you know how many souls I’ve taken to my Master. Millions. And you know what? You know what Vampire? I’m tired of it. I never liked it in the first place. OK I did for a while but after a couple of thousand years it is getting old. Really old.”

He rolled up his sleeve and showed her an ugly scar. “Demon, this is from your last visit. You nearly took my arm off. I was in bed for three weeks because of your poison.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. You have to believe me.”

He glared at her, hate filled his voice, “I can’t believe a word you say.”

She stood in front of him looking into his handsome face. There was no soul she could tempt. There was no blood she could spill. Taking a step towards him the Demon held out her hand. “You could teach me,”

“No. It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“I love you.”

“You need to go. Now.”

She stood looking at his face. If she had been created with the ability to shed tears she would have, but she could only stare at him in disbelief with yellow-orange eyes.

“I love you.”

“Go.”

Unfolding her wings she flew off, out over the bay, over the city. There were so much damage she could do to hearts and souls down there, but her own heart wasn’t in it anymore.

Turning towards the ocean she flew out, then upwards towards the night, trying to imagine what it would be like to be accepted for what she was not.

~ End

2015 Juliette Kings

 

Vampire Diary: Hot and Cold

Dear Diary,

Last night I attended a party which was given by Vampire friends, a former Count of some now nonexistent country, and his wife who is from another now nonexistent country.

Her name, or what she now calls herself is Angelica. She explained to me that she is repelled by the feel of the body of a warm living human next to her, and no longer seduces her prey in the warmer months. What is it that the teenagers who live in my neighborhood call it? TMI. Too. Much. Information. I was tempted to suggest she bring a thing called baby wipes with her so she can wipe down hot sweaty necks before she eats. I knew she would not understand, or even see the humor in my comment.

I next heard that Angelica was going to bring in live food for us. That would be live people whom some of the younger Vampires call Vamp Tramps. They are those people who let Vampires feed on their blood willingly. Some like the excitement. Some hope to one day become Vampires themselves. I find them distasteful. They are like beggars asking for something they can never have, or whores who never get paid for their services.

I left the party with lie about having a headache. One does not earn the title of King of the Vampires by spending time with crass bores. I like my meals to be quiet, private affairs.

It reminded me of a time, centuries ago, when a wealthy and powerful man brought his daughter to my castle.

“Oh Vlad, King of Vampires, I bring you my daughter in exchange for immortality as a Vampire.”

A frightened girl of fifteen years stood before me. I told her to sit by the hearth and make herself warm.

I faced the father. “What should I do with the girl?”

“Drink her blood. Take her as a mistress until she can no longer take a breath on her own. I have too many daughters, but she is the boldest and strongest. She is a pain in my ass. Take her as my gift. Enjoy her.”

I looked over at my friend Randolpho who was also in the room with me. “Randolpho, please take this good man out to meet some of the other Vampires. I wish to speak to the girl alone.”

When they had left the girl cowered in the chair in which she sat.

“Do not be afraid. I am not going to drink your blood or kill you. I will not keep you as my mistress.” There was still fear in her eyes. I then told her that I would send her to friends in Italy where should could live with artists and eat oranges and live without fear. She could be happy and choose the man she wished to be with.

Then we heard screams. “Your father will never bother you again. His blood will be gone and we shall boil his bones and feed him to the hounds. That is what we do to men who try to barter their children for their own gain.”

She smiled then took my hands. I remember the warmth of her fingers around mine, and how she smelled like lilacs when I gave her an embrace.

“Thank you. You are so cold,” she said.

“Of course, but I will make sure you are never cold.” And she never was cold or unhappy for the rest of her seventy eight years, which was a long life in the 1500’s. We should all be so lucky.

Fifteen years later I spent the winter in Italy at the villa she now owned. We became lovers for several months. She then told me that it would never last because she could never fall in love with a man who was far more beautiful than she was, and for the fact that she was in love with another. They married the following year, and lived a long happy life together.

I heard rumors that her father’s skull was used in the first production of Hamlet but do not quote me on that fact.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight I went to the local pub, owned by a woman named Cassie. We have become friends over the past year, Cassie and I have. I stayed late talking with her at the bar.

“Where is Brody tonight?” I asked about her large black dog who is usually behind the bar with her.

“He ripped a claw out. Poor baby is home wearing the cone of shame,” she said.

“But surely it was an accident,” I said. “One should never shame a good dog.”

“It is a just a joke Vlad. The veterinarian, the animal doctor, puts a plastic cone shaped collar on dogs to prevent them from chewing on themselves.”

There is so much to learn about the complexities of the modern world after being locked in a crypt for three hundred years.

We had a few drinks together and talked about our pets. Since Brody was not in service tonight I offered to walk Cassie the three blocks to her home. She accepted my offer.

She invited me inside. I looked at her and locked my eyes on hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said and pulled her shirt over her head, then proceeded to pull my shirt over my head. How I love the modern cotton knit fabric.

“You’re so cold,” she said as she put her arms around my waist and pulled me close.

“You are so warm,” I said, kissing her on her forehead, then her cheeks, then her eyes, and by then she was smiling in a lovely trance as I moved on to her neck. She was a perfect A+ blood type. Even in her trance she let out a slight feminine sigh, and barely whispered my name.

That is one of the wonderful things about being a Vampire in this day and age – we know blood types. We have names for them. What do the young people say? Cool. That is it. It is very cool. The blood is hot, but the expression “cool” means it is something wonderful.

I left Cassie and Brady asleep with sound dreams of all things good.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

It is now considered summer as the month of June passes by. When I was young we did not wonder why the weather changed. It just did. There were seasons. Some said it was the Gods, but we did not believe in the Gods of those who came to judge us. They told us we would be damned so we drained them of blood. If you can’t beat them eat them. I know the new expression is “join them” but why? They had too many Gods, like what they call Super Heros now. Nobody has time for men in tights (see I make a joke.)

So now the sun comes up and I will sleep. Yesterday I had a dream of a warm body next to my cold side. I woke to find the two cats curled up by my side.

I thought about many years, in fact centuries ago when I was awakened one morning from great commotion at the doors of my castle. I pulled on a robe and went to see who was there. A group of men, twenty of them, stood with swords drawn and grim expressions on their faces. They wore white robes with red crosses stitched on the front.

“Who are you and what do you want?” I heard my friend Randolpho ask them with his fangs out.

One man took a step forward. “We are the Knights Templar.”

I came out from behind my Vampire guards and could hear the Knights Templars gasp in unison.

“Please,” I said. “Put down your swords. We have no need for that here. I am Vlad. How may I help you?”

Then they all went down on one knee and bowed. To make a long story short they were under the false assumption that I, Vlad King of the Vampires, was an angel. It might have been my long blonde hair around my shoulders, or maybe my beautiful face, or just what do they call it, my magnetic charm. I do not know why, yet I was quite amused.

Then my sister came running out and a few of them almost fell over. I later learned those men, for whatever foolish reasons had taken vows of celibacy but upon seeing my sister they all became overcome with a sort of brain fever of wonton love for her.

I invited the men into my realm. The leader, a man called John, asked if they could keep some of their items in my castle.

“I would be honored and your treasure would be safe,” I told him.

Then from his coat John pulled an old goblet and handed it to me. “This is the cup from the last supper.”

“I see. I will have dinner prepared for you and your men tonight. You may all have new cups tonight.”

John then looked upon me with compassion and passion in his face. “Vlad, this is the cup which held the blood of our Lord.”

I could feel the cup getting hot in my hands, enough to burn an ordinary man. I smelled it. Yes, it had contained wine at one time, but no real blood. I later learned the blood was symbolic.

“The cup is the most holy of relics,” said John. “Would you keep it safe.”

“I will,” I told him.

He also asked me to keep a chest with something which I now believe to be an old radio receiver.  I hope if he ever comes back that he will be able to find tubes. I will send him to eBay.

The Templars stayed for four days then left. I locked their treasure in a room underneath my castle. They never came back for it. It was not like now where I could text them or sell the items on Craigslist.

Now I still have those items in my basement at my home in America. I doubt if the Templars will try to look me up. They are long gone. With no women in their lives they had no children to come get their things. Maybe I will get out the cup and polish it up. I could always restore the radio or whatever that thing is. I will look into it. Maybe there might be a YouTube video explaining it. One never knows.

~ Vlad