Vampire Diary: Queer Eye for the Vampire Guy

Dear Diary,

Tonight I stood outside in the cool breeze, under the sky with few stars, only the moon and the planet Venus, and occasional airplanes. How different the world is where there is so much light at night that even when it feels dark we can not see the stars.

It was the year before Louis XIV, The Sun King, died. I did not find out that for another three hundred years. I had heard another group of Vampires had left for the New World. I missed the American Revolution. My own country, my own small bit of the world fell into chaos and ruin…

I stood under the night sky with the wind in my long honey colored hair fell to the small of my back. I wore a coat of the finest wine colored fabric trimmed with ribbons with gold thread. My boots were of the finest leather and the color of my jacket. My shirt was trimmed with lace. It would all have been approved of by the Sun King, or any king, because I, Vlad, was King of the Vampires.

Here I take a deep breath and wonder what the Hell happened. I was standing alone in my thoughts enjoying the night air in a Foreign land, returning from a trip to Italy, when the last thing I remember was the sight of a beautiful woman and a sharp pain in my heart. It had nothing to do with romantic thoughts.

My attackers, who are still unknown to me, sealed me in a crypt, and there I remained for the next three hundred years. My location was unknown to my family, friends, or allies. My citizens were without a leader and lost to the winds and ravages of marauding hordes. Those who were not slaughtered went into hiding. My friend Randolpho was one of them.

For three hundred years I lay in a state of trance like sleep, occasionally mixed with consciousness, unable to move, or cry out for help. I was dead, but undead, in a cruel state of hibernation. My heart had been stabbed with a stake but not fully pierced. My throat had been slit but my head not severed. It is rather disgusting now that I think of it.

Of course one can imagine what it was like when Randolpho and my love Gillian found me. First I heard the lock snap, and the gates of the crypt forced open, then the top of the tomb moved off, and then they opened the coffin.

“Oh shit,” was the first words that I heard, coming from the mouth of Randolpho.

Gillian bent over and kissed me. I opened my eyes. “It’s him,” she said in a now unfamiliar accent. “Let’s get him out of here.”

My fine clothing had all but rotted away. My hair was in tangles with years of bugs and mice having their children in my golden locks. When I awoke I found myself not in a coffin but in the softest of beds with sheets so softer than anything I could have imagined.

Everything smelled good. I smelled good like flowers and fresh spring herbs. I wore a soft robe, and drawstring pants. My hair was clean but now short to my collar. I often think of growing it long again but maybe not.

Gillian came in, not as I remembered her, corseted in a long gown and elaborate ringlets, but in a short skirt and a long jacket. Her hair was straight and down her back. The skirt was black leather, the jacket was a pink color I could not describe, her shirt was simple white lace. She smelled like oranges and roses. Later she told me it was grapefruit scented lotion. Her legs were showing. Almost all of her legs.

In all of my centuries I could have never imagined the modern world in which I had awakened into.

Louis XIV was the King of the Sun, and I was the King of the Moon.

Now I wear jeans. I am no longer King. As for Louis, alas he is still dead.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Gillian said, “You could wear a burlap bag and you’d still be cute.”

“What is a burlap bag?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. The door bell rang and she left me standing, once again wondering what she was talking about.

I quickly looked up burlap bag on the Internet. Why would wearing a brown bag made of rough cloth make me cute? What did she mean by cute? Do I look like an onion or potato or coffee bean? Onions are not cute. I do not understand half of what she says to me.

Friends came to binge watch Netflix. I asked them once what Netflix represented. They told me that movies used to be called flicks because of how the film would flicker. They explained more but I was lost. I smiled and thanked them. Gillian and Randolpho tell me not to be overly concerned about the names of companies. I disagree. One never knows what might be lurking in secondary and secret meanings of names. They laugh at that. I scoff. I was not Vampire King for 306 years by not paying attention. The one time I did not pay attention I ended up in the 21st Century.

Randolpho and friends, Innocenzio D’Antonio, Jackie Rafferty and his girlfriend Willow came over. Gillian’s friend Elizabeth was also in the group. I have no kingdom but I have new Vampire friends.

Tonight we watched something called Queer Eye. In my wildest dreams I never imagined such a thing. We watched for five hours.

Five men go from town to town and fix the lives of other men who need fixing. They also help women, but mostly men. How do I say this… they are what is now called “Queer” or “Gay” which in this language means odd or happy, but also means they choose to be with romantic men.

Back when I was King of the Vampires in my old country and old centuries back world we did not care who anyone spent their time or lives with. It did not matter. We were Vampires and I was their King.

As a youth it did matter. There were men who were afraid of those who loved freely. They were violent against those who were not the same as them. That was my uncle and cousins who were unfortunately eaten by wolves or ended up somehow, mysteriously with their heads on posts.

They would torture me when I was young because they said I looked like a pretty girl rather than a boy. They also tried to take advantage of my sister and harm her. They were not the kind of Vampires who would binge watch Netflix. But they are no longer here and I look around my home and have decided that I need to how do I say, step up my game.

Alas clothing for men is so plain now. Everything looks good on me but it would be good to know what would look best on me.

Among the seven Vampires watching we used two entire boxes of what is called Kleenex while watching the shows. We might be Vampires but we are what do they call it, suckers for sentimentality and turning lives around. After all, that is what Vampires do. We turn lives around as well.

Antoni, Karamo, Tan, Bobby, and Jonathan made me laugh and think about style. I believe my hair would look good if it was styled the same as Tan’s. I do not like angels, as most Vampires do not, but in this case I believe Bobby is the human form of one.

When the sun came up and we decided to sleep, I wondered if Bobby would help an old Vampire design his guest chambers?

I almost stayed up to watch the rest of Season 2 without the others.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

In my bed, with Gillian asleep in my arms, I wondered how out of touch I am with the modern world. Maybe it is not that I am so out of touch as… I do not know. I seem to adapt.

It is a full moon. I wonder if I will hear the Werewolves howl tonight. I wonder if they will have their sinks clogged with fur. I wonder where they keep their clothing when they run as wolves. I wonder why even now Werewolves still dress in such tacky and distasteful clothing. I wonder if I get measured and order some new suits tomorrow how long it will take for me to get them. I wonder if ribbons and lace will ever be popular again for men to wear openly without shame?

Gillian runs her hand across my chest and up my neck. She never asks what I am thinking. She knows. Her cool touch to my face brings me out of my own thoughts.

“Do you think I need a Queer Eye?” I ask.

She smiles with a hint of fang. “No, just a few history books.”

Then she kisses me, and puts her naked leg over mine, and this is where I stop writing.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 39th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning (or randomly read them) CLICK HERE.

 

 

 

The “P” and the “V” Words. Six years of Vampire Maman.

A life with a blog and children is a life of continuous interruptions. Add in a spouse and, well, good luck with any train of thought you might ever have forever.

I just realized, today that the first post on vampiremaman.com went live on April 12, 2012.

In the beginning I didn’t know the “P” word, and the “V” word carried so much emotional weight with readers. OK I’ll admit I knew the “P” word would. That is parenting. That is something I am firmly and completely dedicated to.

The “V” word, that is “Vampires” is something completely different. At first I had readers show disbelief. There were also Vampire “experts” who felt the need to tell me that I was wrong. Excuse me? As a mom there were only two words I wished to express to those yahoos and that was “fuck you.” But like a good mom, and even a better Vampire I refrained. Several folks told me that I was going to go to Hell without so much as a Do Not Pass Go. It makes one sort of think what motivates people to search out others and tell them that? Parenting 101 will tell you to teach your kids NOT to behave like that. Since then those kinds of assholes have ceased their yammering. I know all of you who blog know the type.

But enough of that. I have been so surrounded by love and support and community that it completely warms my cold Vampire heart. Completely!

Six years ago I started the musings of a modern Vampire mom. Six years. Wow.

My blog has grown from what I thought would be a few parenting posts, and maybe a bad poem or two.

My first guest posts in May 2012 were from Marie Williams the Half Pint Historian, and Mandy White, author of The Jealousy Game (a book about relationships that I recommend to everyone.)

In the summer of 2012 I started to blog about the TV show “America’s Got Talent and Cocktails.” The comments from the Vampire peanut gallery, plus cocktail recipes from my husband Teddy proved to be fun and popular with readers. I’ve continued the series every summer since then.

It was then that I also posted “Love Poems and Letting Go”, my first post about love letters and the teenage heart.

September 2012 brought the first appearance of The Ghost. Yes, that would be Nigel. Yes, he is still around, making snarky remarks and flipping me off every single chance he gets.

In October 2012 you were introduced to Tellias and Eleora the ancient Vampires. Like a lot of my readers I was raising children and taking care of elders. It is both frustrating and rewarding to be in the middle like that.

Soon after that came the most popular post on this blog, “How to Write a Response to a Love Letter (which is more fun if it isn’t addressed to you.) On some days over half the traffic on this blog comes from that post. Since then I’ve written quite a few posts about love letters. I’ve become the Queen of Love Letters.

On August 4, 2013 I first posted the story about my brother Andy called, “Dancing on the Beach.” I need to write a book about Andy and his crazy adventures.

Sometime around then I started the regular feature “Short Story Sunday”. Every Sunday you get a new story, or a good rerun.

2014 brought “The Hunter,” and the introduction of the Austin and Elizabeth series. He is a Vampire Hunter. She is a Vampire. Yes, it is complicated.

And in December 2014 I posted the first installment of Vlad’s “Vampire Diary.”

That is just a few of the regular features. I’ve written about taking your kids to rock concerts, school, a lot about bullies, helping your kids get through rough patches, and all of those things our kids go through until they reach adulthood and leave.

Now that my kids have reached adulthood they still need me. And I still need them. You never stop being a parent.

I continue to write about Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, and others who are different.

A long running occasional feature is “What we talked about this morning on the way to school.” Today I write about this feature with a heavy heart. Too often we talked about school shootings. Since 2013 there have been over 300 school shootings in the United States. There have been at least 43 in 2018 including Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland Florida where 17 were killed, and today in Texas. I cried when I told my kids about the Sandy Hook School shooting. I still cry. It has to stop. It is happening in elementary schools, high school, and colleges. It is happening at concerts, in clubs, and you name it. The insanity needs to stop and you need to talk about it with your kids. You also need to VOTE and tell your 18+ year old kids to VOTE.

My main message here for parents always has been, and always will be TALK WITH YOUR KIDS. Don’t talk at them. Don’t lecture. Share and listen. Listen to your kids. There is a lot you can learn. Don’t shelter them. Don’t judge them. Be honest. Be firm. Be loving. Let them know that they can trust you and come to you with anything. They’re your children. There is NOTHING you need to be uncomfortable about. And even if you don’t agree with them, the least you can do is hear them out. Let them know that their opinions count. Let them also know that your opinions also count. Guide them, love them, hug them, treasure them.

And on a lighter note, this year I started the NEW feature “50 Burning Questions.” For fifty weeks, always on Saturday, I will be asking a BURNING QUESTION. On each post is a simple poll where you can check your answer. Comments and theories are encouraged. Check it out!

With almost 2,000 blog posts here there is a lot to read and something for everyone. I hope that in the next six years I’ll have another 2,000 posts to share.

Thanks for helping me make Vampiremaman.com a success.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

juliette

Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Bicycle Rides and Other Journeys

Dear Diary,

Tonight I discovered something called an artichoke. It is a vegetable with a heart but it has no blood. I usually have no blood in my heart not unlike an artichoke. I find that extremely amusing.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today I learned how to ride a bicycle. A bicycle is a machine with two large thin wheels, a small seat, pedals, and handle bars. One sits upon this contraption and puts one’s feet upon the two pedals. Then one moves his feet as if running in a circle. The bicycle then propels forward. Balance is not an issue with me because I am a Vampire. That is not completely true about the balance. It took an hour for me to learn. I was out in front of my home at 2:00 a.m. so that there would be no witnesses if I should fall. I like these bicycles. I can ride. I understand I will never forget how.

At dawn I rode my bicycle down to the bicycle trail which runs along the length of the river. I stopped to watch an otter catching fish. As a cool breeze fluttered across me I took off my helmet and shook out my golden hair. Then I took off my shirt and let the breeze surround me like a sweet caress. Then I heard a shout, a scream, and bicycles crashing. Behind me three female bicyclist had run into each other and were now in a pile of bicycles on the ground. I quickly put back on my shirt and went to assist them. There was blood. I could smell it. Alas this was no time to think of food.

I kissed their wounds to make the bleeding stop, as only a Vampire can do. Seriously that is something only a Vampire can do. As I helped the women up and tended to their bicycles I asked them why they had all crashed into each other.

They all said at once, “you happened.”

“I was standing at least ten feet from you on the edge of the water,” I said to them.

“You shook out your hair,” said one woman.

“Then you took off your shirt,” said another one of the women.

“Then the light hit you just right,” said the third woman. “You were too cute.”

“You’re magnificent,” said the first woman.

Then they all made high pitched sighing noises. Together. Every one of them.

I blinked a few times in an attempt to process this information. Of course they were distracted. I am magnificent. I am not sure about cute. Kittens are cute. Ducklings are cute. Babies are cute. I am a Vampire King which is not something to be considered cute. I still do not understand this cute.

After taking many group selfies with me the ladies went on their way. I offered to help but they only blushed and giggled despite their scrapes.

I shall reconsider removing my shirt the next time I stop for a bicycle break.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

The weather is now getting warm. It is much warmer than what I have been used to over the past 675 years. Sometimes I wonder how I got so old. Lucky for me I do not show my age. That would not be cute.

But I digress. The warm air and bicycling made me ravenous. Tonight I had two hipsters with waxed mustaches, three vegans, a middle-aged mom who was more than happy to have me bite her neck, a couple of high school teacher who were out for drinks after work, and a State Senator who was walking through the park trying to sort things out. I am sorry but when Vampires are around there is not time to sort things out.

They are all fine. I never drink to kill.

I feel like, what does my neighbor say, like I just had Thanksgiving Dinner, twice.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

After being held captive, locked in a crypt for three hundred years, then out in this time they call the modern Twenty First Century for four and a half years I still find myself at a loss. I lost three centuries of culture and technology. I might have well have found myself on Mars. Only there is no one on Mars so I would have starved, at least until the first human colony showed up, but that is neither here nor there.

I am in awe of many things but not so naive as to become enslaved by modern technology and culture, or by those who would try to take advantage of me.

But there are others… This modern world is strange indeed, especially for Vampires who have no direction.

Last night a bat flew through my bedroom window and dropped a note on my bed.

“What the fuck,” hissed my love Gillian. She was not amused. We were busy in other activities.

I opened the note and read:

Dear Vampire King,

 Come and honor us in our coven of blood lust and darkness. We honor your reputation as the most powerful Vampire of all. We wish you to share your knowledge and wisdom with us. We want to learn. We follow the tradition of the Vampire.

Gillian grabbed the note. “Freaks. Don’t even bother with them. These guys don’t know the difference between their ass an a hole in the ground.”

My beautiful and gentle love was quite agitated. I am not sure what she meant by asses and holes in the ground but I am sure it was not a compliment.

“What would be the harm with me meeting with these Vampires?”

“They’re idiots Vlad,” she said, getting up and pulling on her pajama pants and a tee shirt.

“Where are you going?” I asked. Where was she going?

“Downstairs. I’m going to watch Narcos,” she said as she grabbed her pillow and left the room.

So much for a passionate romantic evening.

I dressed in jeans and a black shirt then I drove to the address on the bat delivered note. Yes I can drive. I own a car. I was born in the 14th century but I now live in the 21st.

In a storage building, I believe it is called a warehouse but I do not see any Werewolves so that confuses me, I find the Vampires.

I stood in the doorway and said, “I Vlad, King of Vampires have come. I received your invitation.”

They stand there, three men and two women, then jump on the floor and bow with their heads to the ground like bad novices in an ill run convent.

“Stand up,” I tell them.

As they stand I notice their clothing. One is dressed in a black suit and wears a black cape with a red lining. Another is all in black leather with many zippers. I wonder if he has trouble getting dressed. The third man was in black jeans and a black shirt with glitter all over his skin. The sleeves had flaps on the bottom that look like bat wings. One of the women has long black hair down to her waist, and wears a tight low cut black dress. She could hardly walk or keep her breasts inside of the dress. I wonder if I should loan her my knife so she can pick out the side seam. The other woman wears what looks like a giant red rubber band that barely covers her body.

“Oh my God,” said one of the women, “He is sooooo cute.” I did not catch which one said it.

“We are honored and in awe of your presence oh great King of Vampires, Lord of Darkness, we quiver in your sight,” said the man in leather.

“If you pee on the ground like dogs I will leave,” I said to him. My neighbor has a dog who pees when she gets excited to see someone. These Vampires reminded me of that dog. I looked again at their odd clothing. “You did write in the note that this was to be a costume party.”

“We are dressed as proper Vampires,” said the man in the red cape. “I take my inspiration from Dracula. Wasn’t Dracula modeled after you of King of Vampires?”

“No,” I said. “I have read the book. It is fantasy.”

“We take our inspiration from the great Hammer films. Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee, Vincent Price,” said the man in the red cape.

“Who are those men?” I asked.

“Great horror actors,” said the woman in the red rubber band.

“Who are you fashioned after my dear?” I asked her.

“Vampirella.”

I do not know who this Vampirella is but she has extremely bad and impractical taste in clothing.

“You are all like silly children,” I said. “Let me tell you how to act as a real Vampire least you starve to death or be killed by Vampire Hunters.”

“Van Helsings,” they all whispered.

“He is but a fantasy character in an old book. The real Vampire Hunters can and will kill you. Now gather around and listen,” I told them.

“Are you Vlad the Impaler or related to him?” asked the one in the tight black dress.

I found myself almost rolling my eyes at them. “Have you seen a painting of him? The man is quite unattractive. The man you speak of, who was not a Vampire, was born more than one hundred years after I was. I am not him, nor did he base his life and personal philosophy on me. I do not think he knew I existed and if he had he would have peed all over himself.” I was amused at my joke but the new Vampires just stared at me in awe.

To make them even more impresses, because they are of simple minds, I take out my iPhone and show them pictures.

“See,” I say, “this is Vlad the Impaler. He looks nothing like me. He is what is called rather goofy looking is he not? In the end he was vanquished by his enemies. He was an idiot.”

Unknown

“And look at this one,” I continued. “It is an actor playing a Vampire. Do not tell me you think this is attractive or will get you more blood. If you use these imposters as role models it will only set you up to fail. Nobody want that in their face.”

These new Vampires were unfit to be Vampires but as my friend Randolpho says shit happens. In the old days they would have starved and turned to dust.

For the next three hours I told these Vampires what they should do to be successful. The first item was to change out of their silly clothes. The second was to stop basing their existence off of silly movies. The third was to wipe the blood off of their chins so that they did not look like silly children.

Then I went home. They exhausted me with their questions. I promised to meet with them at a later date. I hope they survive. On the other hand maybe I don’t.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Gillian and Randolpho laughed when I told them about my new followers.

“They will learn and grow and one day be embarrassing to me,” I said.

I think about the old days when I lived in a castle high on a mountain surrounded by wild forests filled with Werewolves, Ghosts, and dangerous creatures.

But then again I think about now. It is strange. Life is always strange when one is undead – when one is a Vampire. Even if one is a cute Vampire who likes to ride his bicycle, among other things.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

This is the 38th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. Click here to read them all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Modern Knowledge

Dear Diary,

I was out looking for blood.

Just as I was about to go in for the seduction and take my dinner to a quiet spot she asked me, “Who did you vote for?”

“What?” I asked not understanding her question.

“You’re fucking gorgeous and so cute I can hardly believe it, but I can’t take you home if you voted for Trump,” she said.

“Where I come from there is no vote,” I said. I did not tell her that I was king and in charge of the life and death of every single citizen in my kingdom. It did not seem to be, what do they say, neither here nor there. I looked into her lovely brown eyes. “I am not yet a citizen here. Tonight, let us forget the overload of news that gives us all headaches and heart aches, and makes our blood go cold, and concentrate on just you…” I paused and brushed her cheek with my lips. “And me.”

After I drained her of about a half pint of blood I made her forget she ever met me. If I see her again we can do the dance all over again.

Upon arriving home I found my love Gillian and my friend Randolpho sipping wine and playing cards.

I asked them a question. “Do you vote?”

“Of course we do,” said Randolpho. “We might be Vampires but we pay taxes like everyone else.”

I considered what he said. Since I was the King of Vampires I did not pay taxes. Now I do. How different my existence is now.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I am still marveling at the modern world.

Vampires of my class have always kept clean to keep the smell of death off of us. However it was not the standard of clean that is today. I like this new clean. They call it personal hygiene.

When I was Vampire King dozens of women would wash the linens of my castle in large boiling pots. My own clothing was washed by a select staff of women with a light touch for my fine fabrics. Now I do it all myself with my machines at home. Gillian and I do what is called binge-watching-Netflix while we fold our clothing. I open a bottle of wine. It is relaxing. My clothing is not as complicated as it used to be.

I remember one time when I traveled to the castle of Michael Dark Lord of the Southern Vampires. His home was filthy. It smelled of death and decay.

I said, “Michael, why are you so filthy?”

He said, “To remember that we are not alive or dead.”

I said, “That is a stupid answer. You will get maggots growing under your arms.” I scanned the room full of his gaunt and dirty followers. “No wonder your Vampires are starving. They smell so horrible that people can smell they before they see them. It is pathetic that your meals run from you in advance. Your Vampire’s stench is even making me sick. No self-respecting Vampire should smell like a rotting corpse.”

Michael looked confused and angry. “So my Vampire army should smell like a botanical garden?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” I told him. “You would attract more willing food sources.”

When I left Michael Dark Lord of the Southern Vampires I stopped in an inn and asked for a bath to be drawn. My golden blonde hair had turned a greasy ashen gray after spending time in the putrid atmosphere of Michael’s castle.

A week later Vampire Hunters had wiped out the entire lot of Michael Dark Lord of the Southern Vampires. Their Vampire heads were put on poles and their hearts cut out and sold to oddity seekers. The castle was covered in vomit from the Vampire Hunters who had become ill at the vile smell. How embarrassing and unfortunate to be remembered to be the Dark Lord of Vomit.

This is a cautionary tale for any Vampire. If you smell like death you will be death.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I have been thinking of those three hundred years in which I was locked in a crypt. I missed the 18th, 19th and 20th Centuries. I missed the birth of this strange and confusing modern world.

To catch up I read a great deal. My friend Randolpho told me of a man named John Waters. It was John Waters who said, “If you go home with somebody, and they don’t have books, don’t fuck ’em!”

As I sat reading into the morning, the blinds drawn against the raising sun, my cats settled in my lap. The coyote Jane curled her skinny gray coyote body at my feet. Gillian, my love, was asleep upstairs in my bed. I was tempted to join my love, but I had to finish the last chapters of the book.

The book was about a man who studied the sea. He walked among the tide pools. He was educated but the men and woman who loved him were among the lowest of the people of his world. They had no common sense or learning, or money, yet their hearts were large. The last pages were about music and love and animals and science, and of the human heart.

Even now
I know that I have savoured the hot taste of life
Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast.
Just for a small and a forgotten time
I have had full in my eyes from off my girl
The whitest pouring of eternal light.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. And the white rats scampered and scrambled in their cages. And behind the glass the rattlesnakes lay still and stared into space with their dusty, frowning eyes. 

I was born the same year as Geoffrey Chaucer. Over the centuries I have appreciated his legacy, and that of the ancient masters and classics of previous centuries. Yet, it is the modern words that speak to me and touch the very shadow of my soul. These words that are written now speak not just to the scholars, or the kings, but to all. They speak to the quite times when one has cats in his lap, and a canine creature curled at his feet, and the woman he loves upstairs in his bed. They are stories that touch even the coldest Vampire heart.

I must now sleep. There is wedding planning to start tomorrow night. So I’ve been told from the woman in my bed.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 37th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning CLICK HERE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Frankenstein

“My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading.”
~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein; Or, the Modern Prometheus

Dear Diary,

I missed the entire 19th and 20th Centuries. So much happened. I am, how do the young Vampires say, clueless on so many cultural references.

When one is imprisoned in a crypt for three hundred years there is a great void in culture.

Books. Book changed. I completely missed Daniel Defoe by a few years. Of course I’d read The Ingenious Nobleman Sir Quixote of La Mancha and all of the ancient Greek tales, but where I lived, there were rarely anything considered a what is known now as a novel.

I have been reading many books over the past several years.

I started a new book today. It is called Frankenstein. I understand it was written by a young woman. Sometimes one must read light fluff because it is recommended by friends. Understanding modern women is also a good thing. I hope this book will clear a few items up.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I continue to read Frankenstein. It is not what I imagined it would be.

What is that expression my love Gillian always uses? Yes, I remember. Holy shit.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Last night I ventured out to my favorite local night time meeting place. It is owned by a woman named Cassie who is both beautiful and smart. She could have also written Frankenstein. I had planned on asking her if she had heard of Frankenstein but there was no chance.

My friend Randolpho and my love Gillian joined me. We are all Vampires, and know that Cassie’s bar is popular with a few other local Vampires as well. Cassie and the other patrons have no idea what we are. We do not plan to tell them.

All there were having a good night until three men wearing black coats and hats walked in. They looked around, then one looked directly at me and said, “Target,” to his friends.

At first I wanted to tell him that this was a bar and Target was about three miles away, then I realized that I was their target. I locked eyes with him and knew they were Vampire Hunters.

“Don’t look them in the eyes,” he yelled and brought out a large knife. As they came towards me I realized they also had guns. Why does everyone have guns?

I stood up from my seat and yelled for everyone in the club to get down. Randolpho and two other Vampires were like Shepard dogs and herded almost everyone behind the bar and into the kitchen and storage room. Gillian stood next to me.

One of the men, the tallest one, who had long brown hair, pulled out his gun. I grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back and knocked him to the floor. Their leader, a shorter man of great thickness, headed towards Gillian with a sword. I turned and grabbed his arm with my left hand and the blade of the sword with my right. I could feel it cut into me. Then I twisted it out of his arm. I did not see a third man behind me as he stabbed me in the neck. I could hear screaming from behind the bar.

“You will not hurt a soul and you will not take me down,” I said.

“You’ll die tonight Vampire King, along with the rest of your friends,” said the man who stabbed me.

“No,” I said.

As the blood poured from my neck, it was funny, because all I could think of was how I’d just gotten that blood about an hour before then at an odd show at an art gallery.

We fought as I have not fought in centuries, with Gillian beside me, and the other Vampires working to protect the fragile regular Humans. I do not know exactly what happened but suddenly a knife went into my chest, it might have been a sword. A knife went into my check and cut a hole in me, starting at my heart and working down, as long as my forearm, maybe a foot long.

Then all went dark.

I awoke in a strange place, like something out of Mary Shelly’s nightmare.

A serious looking man wearing white hovered over me. “What year where you born?”

“1342,” I said, barely getting out the sound.

“1982,” I could hear Gillian say, but I could not see her. “He’s thirty-six.”

“Do you know his blood type? We couldn’t tell. It was as if someone mixed several types together.” I heard more voices asking questions. One said they would have to give me blood. That sounded good to me. I heard Gillian say my blood type was A+. I do not know what that means. I have human blood and I have my own Vampire blood. It is red. It is blood.

I tried to sit but found myself with wired attached to me. A needle was in my arm which was attached to more machines. Bright lights were in my eyes. People were all around me and asking me questions I could not understand or answer.

I could hear their frantic voices saying that I was cold and my heart was not beating. They said I had no blood. Then I felt electricity surge through my body. I jerked.

I could hear Randolpho’s voice somewhere. “Vlad, make your heart beat friend. Don’t let them think you’re dead.”

Needles went in and out of my skin and everything underneath it. I could not understand what people were saying.

Gillian said to someone, “Randolpho is his first cousin. I am his fiance. We are all the family he has. Everyone else is dead.” Dead is a relative term when one speaks of Vampires, but she was right. As far as I knew everyone in my family is dead except my sister who is undead and thousands of miles away.

Then it happened, as I lay on the table, hooked to machines, my arms pierced by needles, covered with blood, splayed out like a hog ready to be cut into bacon and ribs, it happened…

“Even like this he is so cute.”

“He is so cute.”

“He is beautiful, but so handsome.”

“I’ve never seen anyone here this cute.”

“Oh my, who is this man? He is absolutely gorgeous.”

Cute. Even in my darkest hour I am called cute. I do not understand this cute. Babies, puppies, kittens, and teenager are cute. I am a Vampire King in a Frankenstein like nightmare. I am in the lab, hooked up like the creature and they talk about how cute I am. I do not understand.

Then one put her hand on my forehead, “Hey cutie. Can you hear me?”

I opened my eyes and smiled a bit. “Of course. Where am I?”

I could feel her melt a bit due to my charm. “The hospital,” she said. “I’m Doctor Davis. We’re here to help.” Then she turned to her companions and said, “How is he talking? His heart isn’t beating.”

I was weak but I put my hand on her arm. “Dear Doctor Davis. Please leave me alone with my cousin and my fiancée for one minute. In case I am dead I need to have a few last words.” I looked her in the eye and she could not do anything but go away. Vampires can do that. We have that magic touch (even now I can make a slight joke.)

Gillian and Randolpho helped me become detached from the machines and wrapped me in a blanket and put me in a wheel chair. When someone would approach us Gillian would put up her hand and say, “Let us pass.” And of course they let us pass, and none of them remembered seeing us leave, for we are Vampires who move silently and make memories vanish.

When we arrived home I lay in my bed feeling more dead than undead. The pain of the Vampire hunter blades was made worse by poison. My hand, my neck, and my torso were stitched up. I was full of new blood, but still weak. I ask Gillian if she can heat up a blanket in the dryer for me.

I am exhausted just trying to write of this event.

~ Vlad

 

We are unfashioned creatures, but half made up, if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves – such a friend ought to be – do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and faulty natures.  ~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein; Or, the Modern Prometheus

 

Dear Diary,

News travels fast of a hero who fought off three crazy men with knives and guns to save about fifty terrified people. Vampire friends and my neighbors all came by to see how I am doing. Cassie and her husband Justin brought beautiful red flowers. Gillian and Randolpho were the perfect hostess and host.

Men from law enforcement came and spoke with me.

They asked questions. I told them that I remembered nothing.

Then, I do not know why, I quoted a line from the book Frankenstein. “I see by your eagerness, and the wonder and hope which your eyes express, my friend, that you expect to be in formed of the secret with which I am acquainted. That cannot be.”

I gave them a small uncomfortable laugh and told them that I could not think today. They said they understood and asked me to call them if I remember anything.

The men who attacked us were not apprehended that night. They will be found, but not by local law enforcement.

None the less Gillian and I insisted Randolpho stay with us for a few days. We are fierce and dangerous Vampires but even we have to watch those who do not understand us and wish us harm in their ignorance.

But now I sleep, and rest, and quickly heal as only a Vampire can.

Tomorrow, or maybe next week we will find our peace, and with any luck discover books that do not scare even Vampires.

~ Vlad.

 

“I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathize with me, whose eyes would reply to mine.” 
~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein; Or, the Modern Prometheus

 

2016-04-08 09.04.16

 

Note from Juliette: This is the 36th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read it from the start click here.

Vampire Diary: Protecting the Cuteness

Vlad’s Vampire Diary #35, Protecting the Cuteness

 

Dear Diary,

This afternoon I was awakened by the sound of the doorbell.

My neighbor, a woman named Casandra, stood at my door with panic in her eyes.

“Vlad, are you free for a few hours?”

I escaped after being locked up in a crypt for three hundred years, then found out I was no longer Vampire King. Of course I can be free for a few hours.

I smiled, ran my hands through my thick golden hair and said, “Casandra, you look distressed. What can I do for you?”

She told me that her five year old boy, a lad named Lucas had fallen on the playground and broken his arm. I was asked if I could watch her four month old son Trevor. Of course I could. What else was I doing? I am a former Vampire King who has not decided what to do with myself aside from observing this confusing modern world, and writing in my diary.

Cassandra works from her home and only, as she tells me, has part time daycare. Her husband was out of town on business she told me. I have been around babies. I could do this.

I went two houses down and went inside, where Cassandra showed me where all of Trevor’s food, diapers, and other gear was. Modern babies have an overwhelming amount of gear.

Trevor smiled when he saw me. Cassandra gave me a hug, then said, “You’re cold. Do you want me to turn up the heat?”

I told her that I was fine. I did not tell her that I am a Vampire, therefore always cold.

Trevor was in his crib. I held out my hands and he grabbed my index fingers. One in each hand.

“There was a time when a baby boy like you would have been served up on a silver platter by some Vampires. You would have been a delicacy. You are a lucky boy young Trevor,” I said to the tiny child.

He laughed.

I pulled my hands up, Trevor hung on but his head fell back. His tiny neck was unable to support his massive baby head. I put my hand under his head to support it. He laughed. I laughed.

Here we are together, two males, bonding in our cuteness.

He laughed again then looked into my eyes and said “blee eeebub.”

I laughed. “Ahhhh you want me to tell you a story do you? Then you shall have one,” I said to him.

“Dear Trevor. Once upon a time there was a baby. She was cute. More cute than me. More cute than you. She was more cute than a puppy or a kitten. She was, what shall I call it, universal cute. No baby had ever been more precious, at least until you were born.

One night, when her parents were asleep a Vampire came in through the window of their villa and took the cute baby girl. The Vampire was on the way to a party and said to his hose that he would bring an appetizer. It was like that big game, the Super Bowl, where people get together to watch sport and eat and drink until they fall asleep. He put the cute baby upon a large sterling platter, not into a super sized bowl, and took her to the party.

Everyone at the party ran their tongues over their fangs, ready to feast upon the baby. But this baby, this tiny cute baby, who was cute beyond cute, this baby who was almost as cute as you are cute, caught the eye of a handsome Vampire named Wydo. He was a prince. Yes, my young toothless friend, Wydo was a Vampire prince.

Wydo was enchanted with the child, not because she was so very cute, but because he knew she would one day be able to control everyone she saw, including even a Vampire King.

Wydo demanded that dancing dwarfs come into the hall and do gymnastics, and then fighting games for the crowd of Vampires. There were no dwarves, for they had been drained of their blood earlier in the day, so musicians, who were alive, were brought in. Then the Vampires danced. Wydo went into a dark stairwell and summoned Demons to come in the guise of beautiful maidens full of blood and distract the other Vampire.

Then do you know what Wydo did? I bet you do know what he did smart baby Trevor. Wydo wrapped the baby girl in his cloak and stole her away in the darkness of the night.

And did Wydo drink her blood. No he did not. He brought her back to her parents home. Seventeen years later he turned her into a Vampire. Do not be shocked my little one, it was her idea.

Another thing you might not have guessed yet was the fact that Wydo was my grandfather.

Several years later, about fifty years later, she became my first wife. We were both Vampires and of the same age. It seemed like a perfect match. But then she tore out my heart. She stabbed me in the back. She left me. She left me alone. She did not physically tear out my heart. She broke it. Badly, in the worst way a woman can break a man’s heart.”

I stood in the middle of the room bouncing a baby, and thought my heart was going to explode. As empty as my heart was of blood, I felt like it was empty of everything else. It was not a feeling of cute. It was a feeling of pain.

Then the baby Trevor laughed. I laughed and showed him my fangs. He laughed even harder, and so did I. The pain in my heart stopped.

I told him more stories of adventures, with gore and death, and large hungry carnivores animals. As long as Trevor laughed I told him stories of my life.

“Do not marry a bitch,” I said to Trevor. “Make sure she is warm like you, even if she is a Vampire.”

Trevor laughed his cute baby laugh and I was once again  at peace.

A few hours later, after it was dark and I sat on a leather couch which was the color of blood, Cassandra came home with the child Lucas. A green plaster cast was on the child’s arm. His fingers stood out. He looked as if he was in pain.

I touched his fingers. “You are a brave young man,” I said. I did not flinch as I took the pain away from his broken bone. He smiled at me, then his mother took him to bed.

I handed Cassandra the baby Trevor. He reached out his tiny arms and practically fell at her.

“Oh I could just eat you up,” said his mother as she kissed his cheeks.

Me too I thought.

Then she looked right at me and said, “You and Trevor are so cute together.”

Sigh. I was once the Vampire King and now I am a cute guy who watches babies who are also cute. This is a confusing world in which I exist. I also changed Trevor’s diaper, not once but three times, and I fed him breast milk his mother had pumped earlier. I am indeed a good friend to have around.

“With Brad out of town I don’t know how I’m going to sleep,” said Casandra.

“I can help you,” I said.

Once Cassandra was in a trance, and less a pint of blood, she slept. I made sure she had sweet dreams of her boys growing up to be strong men, like Vampires of old, but not so much as to scare her, and not Vampires.

I walked home thinking about my former wife. I must stop doing that. Not stop walking home. Stop thinking of my former wife. The bitch.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I lay in bed in the arms of my betrothed, Gillian. Her head is on my chest. Her arms are wrapped around me. She is as still and cool as marble. If she was not a Vampire I would think she was dead.

The two cats lay curled at our feet, hot and vibrating.

Jane the coyote lays curled at the foot of the bed on a blanket Gillian gave her.

I feel loved.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Oh the number of hearts I have broken over the centuries. Thousands. Maybe more. My capacity for breaking hearts is vast.

I was sitting in my favorite chair, with two cats attempting to keep my lap warm, when my love Gillian came home.

“I would stand but the cats would be so sad,” I told her with a smile, and held out my hand to her. “What brings you home so early? How was the Spa Night with your friends. You do not look relaxed my love.”

“It was weird and horrible even for people like us,” she said. By “us” she was speaking of Vampires, or at least I assume that. She then continued. “First They put something on my hair that smelled like dried cow patties. I went to the ladies room and washed it out of my hair. After that it was time for facials.”

“Cow patty? They put hamburgers on your face?” I asked.

“No Vlad. Oh you have missed a lot during your time in the crypt. A cow patty is a large dried cow poop.”

“My darling, how vile. How was the facial?”

“Worse than the cow pattie part.  I was told to lay back and relax as someone rubbed salmon oil on my face. If that wasn’t horrible enough, cats were then brought in to lick it off of our faces.”

“Cats? Why cats?” I asked.

“I was told it was the latest thing in natural skin care. The cat’s tongues exfoliate the skin. Bull shit.”

“Cow patties again?”

“No Vlad, bull shit is an expression for something that isn’t true. I don’t know where it came from. Please don’t ask me to explain. But damned if I was going to let some cat lick salmon oil off of my face. Darling I’m not going to kiss you or even come near you. I smell like a garbage can. I have to take a shower. I’ll be back in a bit.”

I watched my poor dear walk up the stairs, then went back to my pondering.

I’d heard of women centuries ago who would use the blood of virgins to try to make themselves beautiful.  That never worked. Oh the crazy things that vanity makes people do. On the other hand I appreciate the efforts that women take to make themselves appealing, and beautiful. Dare I say cute? Yes, even cute.

As a male I find it fascinating, horrifying, and completely confusing and mysterious. I would be maybe too bold to also say I find it cute.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today is Saint Valentine’s Day.

Last night Gillian said I am more cute than the one called Timberlake. I rolled my eyes at her and it made her laugh. Then she said she was still on the fence about the one who rides the board called Shawn White. Then she explained to me about this Shawn White. Then we watched the Olympic game coverage.

I know it was a joke Gillian was making but I was impressed and amused beyond words.

I love that woman.

I will now learn to ride a snow board.

But for now I will ride… excuse me, I will make love to Gillian. Maybe she’ll give me a high score. And I find myself with three gold medals! See I can find humor. 

Gillian and I made love. It was perfection. Then we talked, our bodies and minds entwined. I will no longer think of my former wife, or other Vampire loves of my past. Thoughts of Gillian are all I want or need. Of course I have my memories, but that is all they are. Just memories, and none as sweet as my thoughts of Gillian. Who needs chocolate when one has true love. Then she whispered in her sleep saying, “Vlad, you’re so cute.”

Sigh. Such is the life and love of a Vampire King.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire