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

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Hot Mess

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then they giggled some more and didn’t stop.

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

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

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

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

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

“Does he not poop like most people?”

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

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

“Exactly Vlad.”

“Do not say I am not learning anything.”

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are mad,” I told him.

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

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

He looked disappointed and puzzled. I continued to speak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

~ Vlad

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

 

 

 

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

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

I was told that he repeated himself.

“What is this record of,” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

 

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

“Bodice ripper?” I whispered to Gillian.

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

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

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

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

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

Bodice ripper. I laugh now.

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

And we went inside and did exactly that.

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

~ Vlad. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: It Will Be Fun

Dear Diary,

I went to my mail box today. Unlike when I lived in my castle the mail box is in a wall of mail boxes built like a columbarium with a lot of little boxes all together with names on the, except mail is put there. It would not surprise me to find ashes, or even a skull in my box one day. That would be a pleasant change from so many advertisements.

The two cats, and the Jane the coyote pup with the soul of a Werewolf, followed me to the mail box. They ran around together then as I stopped the cats climbed a nearby tree, and Jane sat on my foot and leaned against my leg.

As I gathered up my mail, glad to see a packet of letters from Europe, my neighbor , a woman named Liz whom I am friendly with and drink wine with came to get her own mail.

“I am so glad you and Gillian are going to see Beauty and the Beast with us,” she said with a big smile.

I did not understand. What had my lover Gillian agreed to?

“I do not understand,” I said to Liz.

“You’re so cute Vlad. The movie. Gillian said you’d go with us. We’re getting a group together. It will be fun.” Then she scratched Jane between her shoulder blades. Jane licked Liz on the chin.

When I arrived back at my house, behind closed doors, I thought about what Liz had said. It will be fun.

I thought about a long time ago when I was a young man of seventeen years and someone said to me it will be fun.

In the court of my father was a Vampire called Lord Cuthbert. Cuthbert was not only large and handsome, but he was also vain and cruel.

One day he said, “Come with me Vlad. We will go to the woods for sport. It will be fun.

When we arrived in a dark spot in the woods Cuthbert took out his whip and started to beat me. Then he pushed me to the ground and held me there with his foot.

“You are too pretty to be a man. Maybe I should make you my bitch,” he said laughing and showing his fangs.

I was strong and young. I pushed him off of me, but he sliced open my arm with his knife. I stood in shock as he laughed in my face. Then he took my horse and left me in the woods.

“Next time Vlad, I will make you cry like a little girl,” he said as he rode off.

I said nothing to my father. Only my friend Randolpho knew what had happened.

The following week Cuthbert said to Randolpho, “Come to the woods with me. We will hunt wild boar. It will be fun.”

Randolpho went to the woods with Cuthbert. There Cuthbert beat Randolpho with a club, and stabbed him over and over with a knife. Then he took Randolpho’s clothing and left him naked to walk home.

The following day Cuthbert said to a Vampire girl called Sabine, “Come Beautiful Sabine, see the wild flowers with me. It will be fun.”

Cuthbert overpowered Sabine and violated her. He cut off a large chunk of her hair. He cut her face. He carved his name on her belly with his jewel handled knife, and threatened to kill her if she told anyone.

Sabine told Randolpho for he was her sweetheart.

The following day I said to Cuthbert, “Come to the woods with us near where the Wolf Folk live in their rough cottages. We will play a trick on them. It will be fun.”

Cuthbert was happy to go with us. He enjoyed nothing more than taunting and molesting Wolf Folk. We passed the village of the Wolf People, those who are part animal, and live as poor sad outcasts in their rough villages. They looked at us from the windows of their crude houses. They licked their lips with fear in their eyes.

“Look at you ugly filthy creatures,” yelled Cuthbert. “Go back in your dens before I put chains around your necks and pull you to Hell. But first I will take your women dog style.” Then he laughed a full belly laugh and showed his long sharp Vampire fangs. I was disgusted with him but said nothing.

To make this long story somewhat shorter I will finish up as not to get hand cramps. Outside of the Wolf Village I told Cuthbert to get off of his horse. When he did I struck him down with my sword. I cut off his right hand. He fell to his knees. Randolpho kicked Cuthbert down, then took out his knife and cut off Cuthberts manhood. As he lay screaming, the Wolf Folk gathered around. I sliced into Cuthbert’s flesh and threw it to the Wolf Folk who quickly ate it up. Bit by bit I flayed him, feeding the hungry half humans. Small Wolf Children ran up and begged for his nose, lips and ears. Cuthbert watched as he was devoured and begged us to stop.

“Sabine begged for you to stop and you laughed in her face, and made her suffer the worst humiliation. You disgust me. This is for Sabine,” I said as I cut off his nose and threw it to the laughing Wolf Children. Then Randolpho and I left. The sounds of Cuthbert screaming could be heard as the Wolf Folk ate him alive, and did not leave a single bone untouched. From a place behind the Wolf Folk Sabine watched and smiled.

Then Gillian came into the room and asked, “What are you thinking about. Vlad, the look on your face…”

I smiled. “Nothing darling. Liz told me that we were going to go see a movie. It will be fun.”

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Movie theaters fascinate me. There are times when I am unable to tell I am just sitting and watching. I am transported into another world.

This movie Beauty and the Beast is an old story. Like a girl falling in love with one of the Wolf Folk, only this man is enchanted by a wizard. He is a beast in a land of no other beasts. That is how some Vampires feel when they are out of sorts and wonder who could love them. Oh the prisons some put around themselves.

It was fun, but the theater was full of people so there was no chance to go to a back rows for snacks.

But the story was odd. I prefer the film Gillian and I saw last week. It was straight forward and to the point. It was about a man called Rick who owned a bar in a place where refugees met. The woman he loved and mysteriously lost showed up with a new husband who was a famous leader. Rick let her go despite the agony in his heart because it was for the good of all. I might not have been so noble. A kiss is not just a kiss. A bite is just not a bite. And all beautiful friendships have notable beginnings.

All of the women who went to view the movie with us said I reminded them of the Beast. I asked why. They said it was that we were both cute. I do not understand, but I smile without my fangs to be polite. I do not want them to ever consider me a beast. I thought of the Wolf Folk. I do not ask Gillian about it because she would only roll her eyes at me.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I had a dream about dancing with Gillian in a huge ballroom. She wore a yellow ball gown. I’d never seen her look so beautiful. We danced around the floor with eyes only on each other, then the chairs around the edge of the room started to move towards us. When they started to attack I woke.

Tonight I went out to more adult places to hunt. I had had enough of fairy tales and talking furniture. At one intersection there were bars, alleys, dark corners, and people wanting companionship, if only for a night.

When I arrived home, full from a successful night, the cats and Jane were waiting.

Gillian came out wearing something pretty, yellow, extremely small, lacy, and almost completely transparent.

She held out her hand and led me towards the stairs to the bedroom. “It will be fun,” she whispered.

“I have an idea for some games,” I said.

“Be my guest,” said Gillian, as she put her lips to mine in kiss that would enchant the coldest heart and deadest soul. Then she…oh yes she did.

And she was telling the truth. It was fun.

~ Vlad

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Game Day

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Game Day

Dear Diary,

The cat stood at the door. She asked to go out, or I assumed she did from her meowing. I opened the door. She walked away. I’m not playing this game. The door is now open. She doesn’t realize that the cold doesn’t bother me. For a brief moment I reveled in the thought that the cat does not understand Vampires. Then she jumped on the table and bit my hand. She was purring. I do not understand her game. I hate cats.

~ Vlad

 

kitten

 

Dear Diary,

My neighbor took me to a Kings Game. It is what they call Basketball. The team is called the Sacramento Kings. I was not sure what sort of game this basketball was.

He told me that I was to dress casual and to wear purple if I had it. I wore a purple dress shirt with a black tie and black slacks. The ladies had to rub my arm and smile. Women are so forward now. They said I looked gorgeous.

We arrived at the stadium. The Kings were going to play the Celtics. I missed pageantry and was feeling excited about the spectical.  Every seat in the stadium was full. People wore purple and green. Some had cowbells. A new leader, someone they called the Coach was to be crowned…or at least I thought.

The Celtics were not the Celts I knew of. They were huge, tall men. Some were over seven feet tall. They did not look like Celts.

Then the Kings came out. They were the huge men as the Celtics. I wondered what sort of challenges they would partake in. I saw no weapons.

They played with a ball. They threw it into a basket. At first I didn’t understand why everyone was so excited, then I was swept into the pandemonium. Girls danced. Music played, The crowd cheered. People yelled. Everyone danced. My neighbor’s wife grabbed me and we were on the “hug cam.”

Nobody was killed during or after the game. The losers were not punished. Everyone was happy. I don’t understand. There must be consequences unless this is just a circus show masked as a royal tournament.

~ Vlad

 

Kings vs Celtics

 

Dear Diary,

The spectacle of last night made me think of a story my Baba used to tell. It was long centuries ago when I was a child. It was back when my blood still ran warm and my heart would beat strong in my chest.

Once there was  a prince called Alexander who was betrothed to marry a woman he did not love. This woman was beautiful but she was also shrewish and it was rumored she took many lovers and would continue to do so after marriage. She planned to lock Alexander up and keep him to herself, as her toy. Young Alexander, only 16 years old, wished to be free like the squirrels and other woodland creatures. So on the eve of his wedding to the woman he did not love Alexander fled into the woods. 

Alexander became lost in the deep dark forest. The branches tore at his clothing and hair. He did not know what to do until he heard the sound of clicking and then laughing. Going towards the noise he found himself in a clearing. In the middle of patch of mowed grass was a table. At the table sat a squirrel, a possum, a cat and a snake. They sat around the table with bottles of wine and a cup of dice. 

They looked up at the startled young prince. The cat said in a voice rich with musical tones, “please, Alexander, come sit with us. Come play our game.”

“Tell me the rules,” said the prince.

The squirrel bushed up his tail and turned his head to the side. “First you must tell us your wish. Then we all throw the dice. Those with low scores must take a drink. The player with the high score gets to ask a question of one of the players.”

Alexander thought this was an odd game. “Who wins?” 

“You’ll see,” purred the cat, then she licked her paws and slicked back her whiskers. “What is your wish.”

“I wish to marry for love, eventually. I’m only sixteen,” said Alexander.

They all nodded, even the snake who stared with a flicking tongue and black eyes like polished obsidian. 

The cat motioned for the game to start. The squirrel rolled five, the cat rolled seven, the snake rolled two, the possum rolled eleven and Alexander rolled twelve. 

The snake hissed and rolled it’s eyes, “I win because I rolled my own eyes. I’m also tired of our wine.”

“And we’re tired of your whine,” said the squirrel. He then took the snake by the tail and threw it into the forest. Alexander could hear it cursing and slithering away through the brush.

The all drank big slugs of wine and told Alexander to ask a question of one of them. “I will ask you a question,” he said turning to the possum. “Why do you play dead?”

The possum grinned with sharp teeth and answered, “I play dead because there are Vampires in the woods. I wish to keep my blood so I play dead.”

The squirrel laughed. “Roll the dice.”

The squirrel had the high score of ten. He asked the cat, “Do you like living in the woods.”

The cat slowly closed then opened her bright green eyes. “I love my friends but I wish I had a forever home.” 

The possum started to cry because her answer made him so sad, so they all quickly took a drink and rolled the dice again and again. The game went on for hours until they were all too drunk to play anymore.

In the morning Alexander woke up on the table with the cat sleeping in the crook of his arm. The squirrel was sleeping on a branch above them. The possum was sleeping under the table. The snake had returned and was sleeping curled in a tight coil by the prince’s feet. 

The cat opened her eyes and started to purr. Alexander scratched under her chin. “Who won dear cat?” 

“You did,” said the cat, “but there is a catch. You must take me back to your home in the castle.”

Alexander and the cat said goodbye to their friends and promised to return. 

Upon his return Alexander was greeted with angry words from the woman he was to marry. She pulled him by the ear and slapped his face. When he could take no more he opened his jacket and out jumped the cat. The horrified woman backed away. Her eyes started to water and turn red. Then she sneezed so hard that her brains blew out of her nose and she fell dead upon the floor.

The cat said, “I had heard she was allergic. That is why all cats were banned from the castle as soon as the engagement was announced. Now you can become a man in peace and I will live with you as your cat. I’d like to tell you that I’m really an enchanted woman, but no such luck, I’m just a cat.”

Then the dogs came in and licked up the brains and they lived happily ever after together. And eventually, about ten years later the prince found his true love, and she loved his old cat as much as he did.

And that was the end of the story.

After writing down this story, my cat jumped in my lap. I wondered if she would kill for me. I doubted it.

~ Vlad

 

sunrise woods

 

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight I went out for dinner.

Meals used to involve cunning and seduction. Sometimes meals would involve force and stealth.

Now I go to a local gathering place and women approach me. They smile and tell me I’m cute or gorgeous or dreamy. Their goal is to seduce me. I don’t understand this change in culture but I am not going to complain. Finally there is something about the modern world that I find pleasing.

When I arrived home I put my hand in my coat pocket and to my surprise it contained a pair of dice. In the woods next to my house I could see the glow of eyes and the rustle of leaves in the trees above me.  My cat rubbed against my legs and mewed. The game is on.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

A note about this post:

This is in response to a contest run by Evil Squirrel in 2013 (Contest of Whatever).

These were the rules (from 2013):

1. The theme is games. I want some form of a game to be involved in your creation. Anything that involves competition between two or more participants is allowed… board games, sports, multiplayer video games, children’s activities… etc.

2. Since we don’t want any solo gaming, your creation must include at least two characters… and they must be at least two different species of animals (and while your entry may contain humans, they do not count towards this two species requirement. Fictional animals, such as unicorns, do count towards this requirement). Note that your creation may have as many characters as you wish, just so long as there’s at least two different animal species represented.

There are a lot of other really great entries. Please check out the link below or CLICK HERE to see all of it.

http://evilsquirrelsnest.com/2015/02/01/the-second-annual-contest-of-whatever/

And thanks ES for a fun contest.

By the way I won the 4th Annual Evil Squirrel’s Nest Contest of Whatever – another Vampire Diary post. CLICK here to view it. Woo Hoo.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

I Won The Evil Squirrel’s Nest 2017 Contest of Whatever

 

2017-02-17-13-57-58

The last Vampire Diary involving Shelf Critters has been awarded the WINNING prize for The Evil Squirrel’s Nest 2017 Contest of Whatever. I am so honored.

Click Here for my winning entry (from Vlad’s Vampire Diary.)

Click Here to learn more about the Contest of Whatever.

Thank you so much Evil Squirrel.

As a bonus, in place of the usual Short Story Sunday I’m going to repost my Contest of Whatever entries from 2014, 2015, and 2016.

When you get a chance check out The Evil Squirrel’s Nest Blog and become a friend of the nest.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Around the bar important men and women were meeting over drinks and food.

Around the bar important men and women were meeting over drinks and food.