Tag Archives: Vlad

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Bodice Ripping Fight Night

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Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

Dear Diary,

Today is hot. It is one hundred and ten degrees fahrenheit. I am in Hell. Never before now have I been in such heat. I miss my cold castle. Even today I would deal with rats and damp stone walls rather than feeling I am being strapped to a stake and burned to a a pile of ashes with only my blue eyes looking out of my blackened skull in search of my charred heart.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

It is still hot.

Tonight my friend Randolpho and I went in search for warm blood and cool dark rooms.

In the middle of the city we walked the streets and went into bars with mists of water spraying down upon pretty young women who sat outside in short skirts as they drank cold drinks and talked among each other.

Inside these places it was cold and filled with loud music. People sat and talked. Nobody was dancing. It was too hot.

As Randolpho and I walked among the mortals I could see their eyes upon us. I could hear the women whisper to each other as I walked by he is so cute, he is gorgeous, I would take him home.

I would glance their way and smile. Maybe I would fulfill their desires and go home with them. I could taste their blood in my mouth already. I could feel their warm skin on my cool Vampire body. I started to turn their way.

Then Randolpho grabbem my arm and said, “Come this way.”

Down a hot ugly alley between old brick building we walked, then down narrow stairs into a dark doorway.

I could hear men shouting and cheering. Then I saw there was a fight.

Two men kicked and punched each other in a chain link cage. A final kick brought one down in a bloody heap upon the floor. I could smell his blood. My mouth watered.

Then all eyes turned upon Randolpho and I.

“You got a pretty face. It would be too bad to ruin it,” yelled one of the men in my direction. I looked him in the eyes and his face contorted in pain at my will.

Several other men shouted at us using crass childish profanities.

We do not belong here I thought, but it might be fun. Randolpho was thinking the same thing.

Many of these men were large. They were well over six feet tall with shoulders the size of oxen, and muscles like those of Hercules. We are not built like oxen but more like one would imagine Apollo or Hermes, or more even like those men on the covers of book that  women call Bodice Rippers. Yes, Randolpho and I are Bodice Rippers.

I am not considered large these days. At one time I was taller than most men but now I am not always so tall. I stand at five feet and ten inches. Randolpho is not tiny but he is also not huge at five feet and six inches. People have become larger. I do not understand this trend. By the end of this century I will be the size of an eight year old child. None the less I knew Randolpho and I could take on these petty men who puff out their chests and call us cats.

“Why do they call us cats? Cats know how to fight.” I asked that of Randolpho.

“Vlad, they called us pussies,” said Randolpho.

“That is what I said,” I told Randolpho. I do not understand why I have to repeat myself so much with him.

Randolpho and I faced a dozen men. Not a problem. We are Vampires and I am cute. I find that when one if cute one can do anything. Take for example cats and babies. Cats and babies are cute. They get everything they desire. I looked over at Randolpho. If I were a girl I might consider him cute as well. Maybe. Maybe not.

The men shouted FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.

I thought that as long as they did not cut of my head or rip out my heart I would be fine. It would be like taking candy from a baby, only I do not know why anyone would do that. None of these men were cute like babies or puppies or me. Yet, I would take from them whatever I could.

Randolpho tipped the ridiculous top hat he always wears, even in the 21st Century, and smiled.

“Gentlemen,” said Randolpho. “We will take up your challenge and top it. Two of us will take on all of you who wish to go home lesser men.”

Randolpho set his hat aside and went into the cage. I followed.

Ten minutes later a dozen large men sat crying like babies. These were not cute babies. They are large, bad smelling, hairy babies with mothers who would be ashamed of them. We received a prize of a great deal of money, then we left before the remaining men tried to kill us. HA! They could have tried but never would they have success. They are but spineless worms. They are lesser men.

There was not a scratch between Randolpho and me. Not one scratch. I brushed my golden hair back with my hand. I am not cat. I am a Vampire.

The sound of sirens of Police cars came close as we walked away. Nobody in the basement where the fight took place would remember the faces of the two young men who beat them senseless. They would only remember that we were cold to the touch and exceptionally good looking. I laughed at the idea of us being young. I am 675 years old and Randolpho is a scant year older than I.

I do not know how to make one of those little yellow faces with a smile. There is a number code. Little face with smile. There. I put it in italics so it is so. The Vampire King has spoken.

The women we had passed earlier did remember us. They got their wish. We got our blood. It was, what is the expression, a Win-Win situation.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

When one is imprisoned in a cold dark crypt for three hundred years one has time to think. Then one stops thinking. Then one wakes and starts to plan as if the night will come when the crypt will break open and you will escape.

Then one day you find yourself awakened with a shake of a shoulder and look into the face of friends. The world has changed into a place that even Jonathan Swift or Jules Verne, or Nostradamus (the hack) would never have imagined. It is a world world, I Vlad, the Vampire King, could never have imagined.

Yet things do not change. Men still fight. Women still turn their heads and smile when I walk by. Randolpho still wears his ridiculous hats.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Ice. Whenever I want it. I love this century.

My Vampire love Gillian lay with me on my bed. We had turned on the thing called air conditioning that makes the summer air turn to winter inside of my home. It is like magic.

I kissed Gillian’s hand, then her shoulder, then her cheek, then her beautiful lips.

“Do you think I am more of a Greek God or a Bodice Ripper?” I asked her.

She gave me an odd look. “Vlad, I’m not even going to answer that.”

“But I am serious,” I said.

“So am I,” she said.

Gillian took her hand and pushed me down on the pillow and straddled me. I did not stop her.

“You’re a magnificent pagan beast,” she said.

“A pagan beast?” I asked, but even I had to laugh.

“Maybe not, but what you are is cute. You’re so cute,” then she pulled her shirt over her head, and kissed me, and I will say no more.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

This has been the 39th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. For the entire series, including more Vlad cuteness CLICK HERE, or go to the sidebar for the Vampire Diary page.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Queer Eye for the Vampire Guy

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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.

 

 

 

Burning Question #11: I had to ask…yes, it’s about Vampires

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Well crap, I accidentally posted this today instead of Saturday so just pretend the weekend is starting early. As an added bonus I’ll post burning question #12 on Saturday. And remember don’t just tell me you like this post, give me an answer. It is fast, painless, and easy.

vampire girls

If you’re here you know this blog is Vampire Maman – Musings of a Modern Vampire Mom. And if you’re here you know it is Saturday and time for the BURNING QUESTION.

Yes, I have to ask this one. 

Everyone has different ideas about Vampires.

Some believe they are evil beings lacking souls and from the depths of Hell (of goodness.) Some believe the Twilight shit and think they are weird old sparkling creatures who stalk high school girls (the whole concept disgusts me, both as a parent and as a woman.) You do know that is fiction don’t you? It is. Get over it.

Some believe they follow ancient blood rituals and live by a strict order set down by ancient laws (I can’t even hardly write that without laughing.) It just doesn’t work for most Vampires.

Some believe they are all like Dracula or the Vampires in the Anne Rice books (all fun and well written, or at least most of them.)

And some… a few, know that Vampires are just like everyone else except we live a long long long time, have a lower body temperature, can see ghosts, drink blood, can be pretty scary if we want, are extra sexy, can get a bit pissy, and are generally good parents, among other things.

And sometimes Vampires are just dried up old assholes who live in crypts and come out at night with their joints creaking as the dust falls off of their jackets and scare the shit out of people. There ARE Vampires like that and they’re pretty disgusting.

Just like normal folks real Vampires come in a lot of flavors.

If you aren’t sure of an answer please feel free to ask questions, or search this blog for answers.

Burning Question #11: Would you willingly become a Vampire?

 

Now that didn’t hurt a bite, I mean bit.

Oh come one, admit it was fun.

I’ll be back next Saturday with Burning Question #12. If you have a burning question you’d like answered let me know. See me on FB or email me at juliettevampiremom @ gmail. com

xoxox

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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

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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

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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

by

4

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.