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

Dear Diary,

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

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

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My friend Randolfo wearing one of his silly hats.

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Stories Old and New

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

They did not appreciate or understand my answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

“Bambi,” said Gillian.

“Indeed he is like Bambi,” said Randolpho.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or at least I think I am.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

 

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

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Man of Steel

Dear Diary,

My friend Randolpho and I decided to watch a movie. After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I find that movies are one of the more pleasant and entertaining things about modern life.

I looked at the guide on the cable TV to find a movie.

“What is this Man of Steel. Is it about a robot?” I asked Randolpho.

“Robot?” He looked surprised.

“Yes, a man made of steel or metal. A machine man.”

“No.”

“Then it must be a pornography movie?”

“Pornography?”

“Yes, Randolpho, when people take their clothing off in front of the camera and…”

“I know what pornography is,” said Randolpho acting somewhat defensive.

“Explain Man of Steel.”

“No. Jeeze Vlad. It isn’t that. Man of Steel is about Superman.”

“Who is Superman? Wait, I read a book. A man who called himself a philosopher. His name was Nietzsche. He thought about an  Übermensch, a superman.”

“You read that? What did you think?”

“Nietzsche was what you call a dick. Or at least most women I know would have called him a dick. That is the term that women use. Dick. Maybe he should have been a pornography man rather than a philosopher. You know because he was just a big dick.” Then I laughed at my joke. Randolpho was not amused. “Randolpho my friend, I also read a play called Man and Superman by a man called Shaw. It was an extremely sexist view of how a woman should choose a mate, and she of course, in the ways of the time, picked the man old enough to be her father. I found it curious and somewhat amusing but disturbing to think a woman had so few choices. They are obviously not Vampires.”

“You read all of that?”

“I was locked in a crypt for three hundred years. I have been trying to catch up on my reading. So who is this Superman you speak of who is made of steel?”

“Just about the most famous comic book super hero of all time.”

“Why is he so famous? What is his story?”

So Randolpho gave me a pile of old comic books to read. I had some questions. Why Superman pretend to be Clark Kent? Why did nobody recognize him when he put on glasses, changed his hair part, and put on a suit? Why was Lois Lane so obsessed with him? She was not a smart woman as she was unable to tell when Clark was wearing a costume, or was it Superman wearing a costume. It was confusing. Why was Lex Luthor so difficult? Then again, he would have made an ideal politician. The American capitol called DC is full of Lex Luthors. Is that why it is called DC Comics? Why were Superman’s parents so old? Where did they find someone to forge a birth certificate for him?

“So he puts on a leotard, tights, and a cape and rescues women and children from harm by lifting cars and fighting bad men.” I said.

“Yes,” said Randolpho.

“Does he shave his legs before he puts on his tights?”

“Of course not Vlad.”

“It will not look smooth. Why does he not wear pants?”

“Vlad.”

“Why not let the police do their jobs?”

“It isn’t as fun that way.”

“Why should it be fun? I know from experience that finding bad people and disposing of them can be satisfying in a perverse sort of way but it is never truly fun.”

“It is just a story.” Then Randolpho rolled his eyes.

“Why do you roll your eyes? I would never be involved with a woman as silly or stupid as Lois. I should hope you would not be either. Most people do not know I am a Vampire but I do not wear a silly costume when I go out to find blood and engage in other Vampire activities.”

I do not understand this Superhero concept. I have seen the movie Guardians of the Galaxy. Randolpho told me it was a superhero movie. I thought it was about a man and his raccoon and a tree. I found it highly amusing. The green woman was not an idiot. I also liked the music, though I do not know why.

~ Vlad

Dear Diary,

Tonight I turned on the TV, which can be quite addictive, and saw something on the History Channel called The World’s Strongest Man. These were not Super Heroes. They were just large friendly men who lifted and pushed extremely heavy objects. They did not wear tights or capes. They wore flannel jackets and knit caps. Some of them had beards.

Then I wondered why the History Channel is called that. There is little history shown on it. So much for catching up on my lost three centuries.

Tonight I went out into the night alone. As I walked down the city street I could hear women as they sat together on sidewalk seats in front of restaurants and clubs say, oh my God he is so cute.

I am never sure what they mean by cute. I have yet to understand the full meaning of that term. Also, the calling out to God confuses me. Women use that call out a lot when I am around. I am a Vampire, not an angel, or some man wearing the robes of a religious order. They also say oh my God at the most private and inopportune times. I do not understand.

After getting my fill of fresh blood from lovely women who kept saying Oh My God, I walked down the street and took a short cut through a narrow alley. The alley smelled vile but not as vile as the alleys in the 16th and 17th Centuries, and not even close to the vileness of the 14th and 15th centuries.

I was briefly distracted by a mural painting on one of the buildings in the alley. It was of giant flowers and a woman in a flowing yellow dress. When I glanced back up in front of my at the end of the alley were two large men. They were as large as the men on The History Channel, but not wearing flannel. I glanced behind me and saw three more large men behind me.

I am not small at five feet and ten inches tall, but I am not huge either. As the large men approached me I saw the objects in their hands and realized they were Vampire Hunters. It was quite inconvenient. I had no desire to take on a fight after such a lovely evening with women who kept saying oh my God and calling me cute.

Over the centuries I have noticed that Vampire Hunters have not evolved. They are still as ignorant about Vampires as they were back when I was born some 675 years ago.

“Take your last breath Vampire,” one of them yelled at me.

“Dear hunters,” I said. “Can we not settle this like gentlemen, and not as adversaries. I mean you no harm. In fact…”

“Die Vampire die,” they shouted. Now I know enough after staying up late for the past five years that this was the kind of line that was used in dreadfully bad movies about Vampires.

“According to your lore I am already dead, so what is the point?” I said.

As I talked I used a soothing voice. I used a seductive voice of a Vampire King, the king that I am, the Vampire song that slays the foulest of men who wish us harm.

“You need to go now before I do you harm. Forget your mission to do harm to Vampires. We have no ill will towards you.”

I locked my eyes with the leader and he started to howl with pain. As he fell to the ground the other charged me. I would describe the rest of the time in the alley, but I will not. At the end of it all they were all sitting on the ground holding their heads and moaning oh my God.

Oh my God. I do not understand the use of this term. It is said for everything.

Later that night with my Vampire lover Gillian I told her of it all.

“Now who is a super hero?” she said.

I kissed her and said, “Yes, I will show you what it means to be the man of steel.”

And I did.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 To read Vlad’s Vampire Diary from the beginning CLICK HERE.

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Dear Diary,

My my my

Why do people say that? It is as if they think that they rule the world in their smug sense of overly obnoxious self worth.

What is it about that like in the movie about the little lost fish and the birds who all yelled mine mine mine. Those were gulls.

I have had people say that to me only to minutes later have their throats ripped out. That was a long time ago, in another life. Such is the world of a Vampire King. I now try to resist the urge to rip into the flesh of those who annoy me.

Today I found myself in an overly bitter mood. Back when I was the King of Vampires living in my castle on the mountain I would go into the tower and let the wind blow through my hair, and view all that was mine. At other times I would take my horse and ride through the woods until we were both exhausted.

Now I have a more modern approach. I get into my car and drive.

After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I could not have imagined a world with cars and paved roads. I could not imagine not having a horse. Maybe one day I will get a horse, or two, or three again. Until then I am content with my cats, though they resist riding in cars.

In the past five years I have learned much, including cars. I have two cars. One is electric and quiet. It is also expensive, but that does not matter. My advisories might have taken three hundred years from me but they did not take away my fortune.

My my my.

In my car I open the hole in the top of the roof, then I turn up the sound on the radio. A radio is another thing I could not have imagined having three hundred years ago. I was wearing flip flops and I could not have imagined those either.

The radio is an interesting thing. On it is every kind of music one can imagine. There are also those who talk angrily and excessively. I ignore them. Early in the mornings there are those who speak of farming and fishing. Late at night people speak of alien creatures who live in space and visit people at night, in their beds. I believe they have aliens confused with cats, or maybe even Vampires. It is not worth my time to wonder about it.

While I was imprisoned by my enemies in a crypt and thought to be dead I missed out on so much music. I did not know of Bach or Valvadi. I did not know of Mozart, Handle, Haydn, or Pachelbel. I missed Chopin. I missed the invention of the modern piano, which I now play. I missed Beethoven. I missed Verdi, and Greg, and Lizt. I missed Scott Joplin, Lead Belly, and Janice Joplin. I missed Jimi Hendrix. I missed Ravel, Stravinsky, Debussy, and Strauss. I missed the waltz. I am not sad that I missed Disco or Blue Grass. Those two types of music are not, how do I say it, conducive to the Vampire sense of being. I missed smooth jazz. I missed the starting of Rock and Roll. I missed Toto the first time they sang Africa. I missed so much. I did not exactly miss the polka because the villagers who were not Vampires had loud parties and dances that might have well been polkas. They vomited a lot. Then they slept and the Vampires moved in on them but that is a different story for a different day.

That is the beauty of radio. I can hear all of it now. Except Country Western and Rap Music. I do not listen to those kinds of music. I do not understand them or enjoy the sounds. Yes, for an easy meal, I will pretend to like them, or at least tolerate them for a short time.

Now where was I? I heard a song. It was a song about a Vampire. I do not understand it quite. As I drove my car through the countryside a song came on.

My, my, my.
Once bitten twice shy. 

What is this music I thought as I pulled over to the side of the road to hear more closely.

It was a song about a woman who spent a lot of time with men, but the singer was unsure of her. I think she was a Vampire. She bit him. Now he is shy of her. So she sleeps with many many men. He is of an old fashioned view where he finds that unsettling. Then he thinks she is a failure, but she exacts her revenge in a way I have yet to understand, but she comes out better. He is now shy of her because he fears being bitten again.

I looked this up on my Smart Phone, which three hundred years ago would have been considered magic to the point where if you had one you would be burned as a witch. If you were a Vampire it would have been alright, but regular normal warm blooded people are often ignorant fools who embrace that ignorance and the fear of new things. Vampires must always adapt and accept what is new and what is true.

The band that sang my my my was called Great White. Like a shark, not a racist name. I know now about racists. Great White an odd name but I have long since (for about four years) stopped questioning band names because that would be all that I would do all day every single day.

The men had long hair. I used to have long hair as they did. My golden blonde locks at one point came down to the middle of my back. Maybe my hair was a little longer.

That night after I arrived home I could not stop thinking about that song. Once Bitten Twice Shy.  

My beautiful Vampire lover Gillian came over to see me. I told her I was thinking of growing my hair long again like the men in Great White.

She told me no.

I told her the band Great White would be playing in Reno next month. “We could drive up there and stay for the weekend. It would be fun,” I told her just like a regular 21st Century man would ask his woman for a good time.

She said, “we’ll see,” just like women of every century since the dawn of time.

I may be a 675 year old Vampire but even after all this time, and so many women, I still will never completely understand them. Calling them them the fair sex is quite the misnomer. Women are never fair.

~ Vald

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

You have just read the 49th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read Vlad’s diary from the start CLICK HERE.

Vampire Diary: Mysteries

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

I finished and said, “wake my friend.”

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

“Is Kit for Katherine?” I asked softly.

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

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

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

“You’re pregnant.”

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

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

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

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

“Try me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

I admired the explosion of flowers in her yard.

“What is the hole for?” I asked her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds reasonable to me,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chicks dig scars,” said Zoe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: April’s Fool

Dear Diary,

After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years my friends have told me many things to watch out for.

  • Do not talk to anyone who says they are tax men.
  • Nigerian banks are not real.
  • Do not take up smoking.
  • Do not listen to those who say the Earth is flat, and that men never walked on the moon.

The list goes on and it is ridiculous that obvious absurdities are not legitimate business or true. I was away for a while but I did not come back with the mind of a child.

I do not understand many things but I am not an idiot.

So this morning my friend Randolpho, whom I have known for over six hundred years  came to my house and said, “I have to show you something.”

“Then show me,” I said.

He put out his hand and there on his palm were two fangs.

“What is this?” I asked.

“I am no longer a Vampire,” Randolpho said.

I asked him how such a thing could have happened. He told me that he went to meet friends the night before and while walking down the street was pulled into a basement and injected with a powerful drug. It burned through his body. He thought was on fire. The he passed out. When he awoke in the morning his skin was warm, and his fangs had fallen out. He was hungry for real food, like bagels, and cake, and things Vampires do not eat. He said he felt suddenly vulnerable and fragile.

“The drug I was given turned me into a normal person. Vlad I am no longer a Vampire.”

“Do you wish me turn you back into a Vampire?” I asked.

“Are you not curious about the drug?” Asked Randolpho.

“Of course I am,” I said, “but I am more concerned by your well being.”

Then he laughed and yelled, “April Fool.”

I looked around and did not see anyone. “Why are you laughing Randolpho?”

“It is April 1st. April Fools Day! It is a day for jokes.”

“Not being a Vampire is no joke,” I said.

“I fooled you didn’t I?” Randolpho laughed again.

“Stop laughing'” I said, “or I will find a Witch to turn you into a baboon.”

“I can’t believe you fell for that Vlad,” he said, still laughing.

“I am serious,” I told him, “I will have you turned into a baboon.”

I wonder if Witches have Yelp pages.

~ Vlad

 

 

Dear Diary,

The morning has passed and I long for the night. Afternoon rain is coming down and making me feel calm after Randolpho’s incessant joking.

My love Gillian came to my house.

As I let her through the door I said, “Please, Gillian, no fooling around today. I have had enough of that.”

“Fine,” she said then turned to walk out the door.

“What?” I asked.

“What do you mean what? What is up your ass today?”

“April Fool Day,” I told her, then I told her that nothing was up my ass. Then I told her about Randolpho’s prank.

“So I can stay?”

“Of course,” I said. Then I kissed her. No fooling. I am dead serious. No pun intended.

I will leave the rest to your imagination.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 47th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. Click Here to read Vlad’s diary from the beginning.