Vampire Diary: Shelf Critter Theater

Dear Diary,

My young friend Willow, a baby by Vampire terms, asked me tonight about wine, women, and song of long ago when I was Vampire King.

It made me think of when my friend Randolfo and I were traveling to the edges of the civilized world. We were in exotic territories that were not to be found on most maps of the time.

My friend Randolfo said, "Vlad, we should go out on the town and find some beautiful women and drink their blood."

My friend Randolfo said, “Vlad, we should go out on the town and find some beautiful women and drink their blood.” This portrait here is of Randolfo taken 423 years after this tale which I am about to tell you.

 

 

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We arrived at an old castle on the hill where it was rumored there was a tavern. We knew it must be an important place because of the armored guards. We were allowed inside because we were obviously important, and because we were Vampires.

 

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Some of the most beautiful women I had ever laid eyes upon were sharing wine. I knew I’d have blood, and maybe even bring one or two of them back to the castle in which we were staying for a late night snack.

 

 

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As I walked by all of the women looked my way. Women always look when I walk by. I am told that is because I am cute.

 

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

Around the bar important men and women were meeting over drinks and food. They came from all corners of the Earth. The beautiful women we had passed earlier continued to drink and act like fools.

 

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“Come join us,” said Lady Lynx. “As you can see,” she purred, “we have plenty of food and drink. What brings two such handsome Vampire Lords to our far corner of the unknown world?” The Two-Can added, “We have cases of chili and fruit cocktail. It is the kind with cherries. We also have 3,000 pounds of goldfish crackers from the exotic ponds of Madam Lili. Please partake with us Vampire Lords.”

 

I noticed how drunk the women had become. "What time is it?" Randolpho asked Count Crow. "I believe it is Never More, but you need to go ask Alice."

I noticed how drunk the women had become. “What time is it?” Randolfo asked Count Crow. “I believe it is Never More, but you need to go ask Alice.”

 

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“Seriously Vampire King, you must go ask Alice because I am a lowly bird and do not know how to tell time.” I knew the bird was a liar, as all crows are, but still went in search of Alice.

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We found Alice sitting on a rare and valuable exotic rug by the window. When I asked her about the time she said, “Shirley you jest?”

 

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Then Shirley said, “I NEVER jest. Stop saying shit about me bitch.”

 

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Then a lone skull warming himself on the hearth said, “Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?”

 

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“It is almost 2:00 a.m.” yelled one of the Armadillo armoured, I mean Armored guards. You can always count on an Armadillo to tell you the correct time.

 

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“Music,” yelled the Unicorn. “Where is that Rainbow Donkey when we need him?” Then he blew his trumpet and the party became out of control.

 

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Lord Two-Can and Lady Lynx wanted to play some Jazz records but unfortunately records had not been invented yet.

 

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Love was in the air.

 

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I told them to be careful or they would end up in an unfortunate way.

 

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Even one of the guards found romance that night.

 

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Even the Lord Mayor ended up romancing the shy woman who lived in the frame. Before she had ignored him but now she was quite frisky. Tonight love was completely black and white to her.

 

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Suddenly there was a scream. A great beast had grabbed one of the women.

 

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I rescued the woman and disabled the Hell Hound.

 

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The women celebrated and danced in formation, like human flowers.

 

"LAST CALL," yelled the bartender.

“LAST CALL,” yelled the bartender.

 

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By then all of the women were too drunk to drive home. The bartender was mightily pissed.

 

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Then the strange and serious ghostly Woman in White said, “We need Vampire Blood – NOW.”

 

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I turned to see a bloody alter waiting for Randolfo and me. What Vampire had gone before us? We could only guess.

 

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BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD. The sound of their cries shook our very Vampire bones to the core.

 

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We ran, and they ran after us like Zombies. Only they were faster than Zombies.

 

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Then the Hell Hound jumped up and rescued us.

 

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The Hell Hound reduced them all to well chewed bones.

 

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Then an angel appeared and said, “Get the Hell out of here Vampire scum. Go on, don’t be stupid. Get your pretty asses moving.”

 

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When we arrived back at our lodgings my sister told us that we were fools. Then I told her, “only fools fall in love, and we have not fallen in love for anyone.” She was not amused by my joke.

Willow wiped a tear from her beautiful brown eyes and told me that she was touched by my story. After that we went in search of blood, booze and goldfish crackers. We found all in a place with no skulls, or Vampire killers. I think I am beginning to like Modern Life.

~ Vlad

 

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Note: This wild and crazy tale is my 2017 entry to the Evil Squirrel’s Contest of Whatever. Thank you ES for providing the most frustrating and silly contest I have EVER entered in my entire 157 years. Holy Ghost Balls – what were you thinking?

Hope you all enjoyed this silly Shelf Critter adventure. For more information about The Evil Squirrel’s Nest (where all the cool squirrels hang out) and Shelf Critters CLICK HERE.

Previous Contest of Whatever Entries from Vampire Maman (and I love all of these posts):

https://evilsquirrelsnest.com/2017/01/29/the-fourth-annual-contest-of-whatever/

Monsters In Love

Love posts for Valentine’s Day

Vampire Maman

Halloween Love Letters

While taking clothes out of the dryer I found a crisp folded piece of notepaper with a note, written with a red Sharpie.

Dear Garrett,
I don’t think you understand how you tear my heart apart. You don’t do anything. You just are. You drive me crazy. You act so cool and I know how you put on a mask. Everyday is Halloween for you.  Stop being so afraid of being yourself. I love you – you idiot.
Ione

Sigh. Seventeen year old Garrett has been writing love letters to girls since he was six years old.  Now girls are writing them to him too. He has known Ione almost his entire life but they just started dating last Spring. If they make it as a couple or not, I’m sure they’ll always be friends – I have a feeling they will (they’re both Vampires.)  So I…

View original post 636 more words

Vampire Diary: Drive Me Nuts

Dear Diary,

As a former Vampire King,  I find myself reflecting on my place in the universe. I understand my unique position to reflect and look back and compare, then and now. I am at a loss for words. After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years, then out for two, this new world still keeps me confused and baffled. It is as if I have been dropped into a mad house.

My neighbors invited me to the PBR Championships. PBR stands for Professional Bull Riding.

I am to understand that we will go to the large arena and watch men ride large angry bulls. While entertainments of my past included bear wrestling and snake dancers there was nothing of this scale and magnitude.

My lover Gillian placed clothing on the bed. “Wear these Vlad.”

I looked at what she had brought. Blue jeans, a brown shirt with an odd collar, boots, and a brown hat.

“What is this?” I asked her.

“Wrangler jeans, a sexy button up shirt, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat,” she said.

“But we are going to see bull riding, not cow riding. This reeks of  Halloween.”

“Vlad, I’m not going to spend another three hours trying to explain it to you. Just remember Wrangler Butts drive me nuts.”

“Three hours? You jest. You can tell me in a few minutes. What are Wranglers and why do their butts drive you crazy? Why should I remember something you have never told me before, and I do not understand.”

“Vlad, for someone who used to rule a kingdom…” She put her lips to mine, and ran her hands down my back and into the back of my pants. That did not get me into the new clothes, but it did get me out of what I was wearing at the time.

I decided to wear whatever she told me to the Professional Bull Riding event.

~ Vlad

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Dear Diary,

I do not understand the term cowboy. They are neither cows or boys.

I looked up Western and cowboys and bull riding on the Internet. It seems one must have a truck. I do not have a truck. I do not haul large things. I could haul my cats but that would not be wise. Cats do not like to be hauled.

I have a car. It is black. It is fast. I do not haul things. Last night the coyote pup Jane rode with me as I searched out blood and adventure. The adventure part is my attempt at humor. Gillian said I must work on my humor. I told her no and slept alone that day. On the night out with Jane there was no adventure, only blood. Jane, who has the soul of a Werewolf, sat on a blanket on the back seat while I drove. I held her in the crook of my arm while I made my usual rounds at night spots and taverns. Jane is what I believe is called a “chick magnet.” There were no chickens, but all of the women and many of the men were attracted to her cuteness, almost more than they are attracted to my cuteness (which I am still baffled to understand.)

It is said that one should not live with a coyote because it is a wild animal. One should not live with a Vampire either, so I see no problems with Jane.

I would have maybe enjoyed living in the Wild West where coyotes roamed. Then again coyotes roam my neighborhood in what is called suburbia. There are also creatures who wear masks called raccoons. These animals have hands and come to my house at night like thieves. While I researched cowboys I found someone called the Lone Ranger. I am sure he was a raccoon. His side kick must be the thing they call a possum for they both travel at night like Vampires and bats. Now I know. I do live in the Wild West.

When I returned home the cats yelled at me from the front porch, and hissed at Jane. The former Vampire King then fed his subjects who all curled up together and slept while he brooded.

~ Vlad

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Dear Diary,

Tonight I experienced the PBR Event. Professional. Bull. Riding. It was in the new arena called Golden 1 Arena. Why do they call it Golden 1. It is not gold. I saw no gold. Gillian told me to chill. I told her that I was already cold. We are Vampires therefore we are chill. She told me to be quiet. I told her to chill. That made me smile. Gillian was not amused.

As with all events that have to do with sports there is great pageantry. I sat back and could almost feel the wind on my face from days when I would watch the flags fly along the walls of my castle as my subjects cheered at great events I would hold for my citizens. Gillian took my hand and I was back into the present, where I was a cowboy.

A man dressed as a clown in red, white, and blue, danced and said funny things. A “kiss cam” forced Gillian and me to kiss. Then the bull riding began.

The bulls are huge. A rope made of cloth is tied around the waist of the bull, like a belt. A man then sits on the bull. Then the bull, an animal who weighs 2,000 pounds, jumps and kicks until the man falls off, or until about 8 seconds have passed. I imagine the bull is like my cats and gets a treat when he goes back into the pen after the ride.

I wondered if these magnificent animals were killed, but they are not.  I was glad.  The men who ride bulls are from all over the Earth but most tonight were from the USA. I could not take my eyes off of these bull riders. We sat in an arena which is what from what I understand is like something out of a science fiction story, something I could have never imagined before now, in my old life – and now I am here and watching men ride bulls. Bulls. Animals. Large fierce animals. Not cars. Not machines. It is a game of skill between animal and man.

Then the clown told everyone to sing the song. Everyone sings that song here. Don’t Stop Believing. I heard the man sitting behind me saying it has to be with Steve Perry, not the current imposter. They sing this song everywhere and at every single event around here. Even I know the words now. Yes, Vlad the once feared Vampire can sing every single word. The blood of the Twenty First Century is now in my veins.

At a break Gillian took my hand and said she wanted a beer. Out we went into the main hall.

I hear the giggles and muffled squeals, and the gasps as I walk by. I tipped my hat as instructed by Gillian, winked, and gave a smile without my fangs. I will be well fed tonight. I say, “ladies” in a low voice, and they giggle and run into each other.

I hear one woman say to her friend she would like to ride me like a wild bull. I couldn’t imagine jumping around trying to get rid of her, then I thought for a moment, then it occurred to me what sort of ride she was speaking of. Oh.

Then I heard a woman say, “Wrangler butts, drive me nuts.” Now I understand.

Gillian and I arrived home just as the sun came up. I did not sleep with my boots on.

~ Vlad

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~ End

 

Cowboy

For all of Vlad’s Vampire Diary posts CLICK HERE.

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

Vampire Diary: Resolutions

Dear Diary,

I do not understand all of this talk about resolutions. I am already doing every task I need to do. Why should I proclaim in public my short comings and lack of decisiveness?

My love Gillian told me that it would be fun to make resolutions. She said I would feel more modern. Fun? Bah. Writing such things is not fun. Chasing down Vampire Hunters in the forest on horseback and ramming them through with spears is fun. Dancing with beautiful women then sinking my teeth into their necks is fun. Finding no blood stains on my clothes after a night out is fun. Resolutions are not fun.

Alas even a Vampire Kings has to do things to amuse his lovers, so I made a resolution. I told Gillian that I would take it upon myself to learn all there is to know about the games held in the huge arena where large men play with their balls before a cheering crowd.

She told me not to say that to others. I questioned her about that. Why should I not talk about sport? It is the only thing men are allowed to speak freely about. She said it was how I used the expression, “their balls.” I did not understand.  Then Gillian told me not to be a fool. I called her a bitch. She locked me out of the bedroom. It was not a good night.

I will make a resolution to ignore her next time she asks me to do resolutions and talk about the confusing sports of idiots with balls.

~ Vlad

__________

Dear Diary,

Balls. Now I know what BALLS is. Why did not a soul tell me about balls? Back when I was Vampire King heads and balls would roll. Now I look back and realize I sounded like a young boy laughing at his first vulgar jest.

~ Vlad

___________

Dear Diary,

Balls! How did I not know?

~ Vlad

___________

Dear Diary,

I brought Gillian a case of Romance Writers’s Blood, and a diamond bracelet. She is now happy with me again.

Tonight we went out in the city streets to see fireworks and other lights in the old part of town.

As Gillian and I walked through the crowds I could see heads turning, and eyes upon me. They smile and whisper to each other. “Oh my God,” they say, “he is so cute.” I do not understand what this cute means, but I do know it is important.

One New Year’s Eve when I a young Vampire of eighteen years my Auntie Dorgania said, “Vlad it is too bad you do not have the dangerous hooked nose, the pointed chin, and dark large eyebrows of your grandfather, and your uncles. He made those who saw him in his magnificent robes recoil with fear, but also bow with respect. Vlad, you are hardly a figure to be noticed. You are like your father. You are more like a woman. Do you have anything under your tunic or just a smooth spot like a fork in young tree branches? You will be nothing. That is too bad. You have so many other talents. Maybe I should sew you a dress. You should grow your blonde locks and braid them with pretty red ribbons. I will find you a husband who will beat you into submission.” The she laughed and licked her lips like a dog. We were not alone. Everyone at the party in the great room of the castle laughed with her.

I went home and looked into a mirror. It was nothing but fog and I had a hard time finding my reflection. I caught my eyes and my image became clear. I did not look like a woman. Yet, the cruel words of Auntie Dorgania still stung. Later that year I sent a pack of wolves after her horse and she was never seen again.

My father kept saying, “I wonder what happened to Dorgania?” I said nothing. I kept her skull for many years then gave it to a monk who made it into a goblet and gave it to a nun he was in love with. Nobody can accuse me of not believing in true love.

Tonight I walked proud, as I had when I finally became King of the Vampires. I was no longer the ruler of anything but I was coldly confident and content.

For Vampires the eve of a new year is the time for secrets. I asked Gillian how she became a Vampire. I have known her for four hundred years but never had heard her story. She smiled and kissed me under the first explosion of fireworks. I forgot about her secrets.

Gillian and I dined in the dark basements of the old city on merry makers. They slept well, and we celebrated. Then we made resolutions. Only two.

  1. We will learn games with big and small balls.
  2. We will drink no bad blood.

Then we wished all we saw, and all who saw us, a Happy New Year, as much as two Vampires in love can wish anyone anything, which isn’t much. That is our nature after all.

~ Vlad

 

 

Vampire Diary: A Werewolf Carol

Dear Diary,

It is the time of year for tradition and feasts. It is a time of celebrations and gatherings. It is a time for stories told over and over.

When I was a child, at Yuletide I would ask to be told the story of The Werewolf Billig Shooshow and the Three Demons.

Billig Shooshow was a large man with golden brown eyes, and dark glossy hair. He was a powerful and a wealthy man, but because of his greed and cunning he knew nothing of love or the comforts of friends and family. Billig Shooshow was also a lone Werewolf – one who did not run with a pack.

One night while he was alone in his mansion a ghost flew through Billig Shooshow’s window. It was a large half man, half wolf covered in large traps like jaws of steel.

The ghost howled, “These are the traps that caught me during life. If perhaps your throat is ripped out tonight, or you are stabbed by a sliver knife blade, or you are burned to death, you will haunt the world covered in ten times more traps than I have. You might say that is not a bad thing, because I know you are a strange one, but it is a bad thing because the traps pull and tug at not only your flesh and fur, but at your heart and soul. You do not want that. On the other hand your soul is so dead already that you might not feel a thing. A Werewolf with a dead soul is a pathetic thing.”

It was Billig Schooshow’s dead partner Alexi Growling. After much banter, insults, and snarls, Billig Scooshow said, “You are a big douche and need to go. I never liked you when you were alive and I like you even less now you are dead.”

Alexi Growling said, “Billig Scooshow, you might still yet be saved. Tonight you will be visited by three demons. They will teach you valuable lessons. Believe me, for once I tell you the truth.”

Then the ghost of Alexi Growling vanished in a puff of sulphur and wet dog smell.

Billig Schooshow sat in his large stinky chair and waited. He did not wait for long. A blinding light came into the room. A large white wolf was snarling in his face, then she transformed into a beautiful woman in a white gown trimmed with fur.

“I am the demon of your past Christmas. Come with me Billig Scooshow, and I will show you things.”

He took her hand and they flew high above the land. Then she brought him to a house where he was a young man, barely out of childhood and not a wolf. His father was beating him. Young Billig thought he would die, then a large black wolf came into the house and grabbed Billig and took him to the forest, then tore his neck. Billig woke from the ordeal and found himself running and running under the full moon in the form of a wolf. He was happy and free.

That night he howled with the pack and found his new home. Elaina the daughter of the black wolf was sleek and gray. In the morning she lay beside him, as a warm beautiful woman. Billig made love to her and told her that he would stay with her forever.

Billig soon became a successful man. There was no time to howl at the moon – only time to kill. As a man he found money and power was more important than his pack. He would rather be a lone wolf who took only for himself, than run with others.

Elaina said to him, “You no longer run under the moon. You no longer run with me. I will no longer submit to your horrible growls or bites. You could do great things with your wealth but you do nothing. You live a cold life. You are a cold man. Goodbye Billig.” On the way out she peed on his front door mat.

Billig Shooshow asked, “Demon, why do you show me these painful memories?”

The Demons showed him her sharp teeth. “Because Billig Shooshow, you have not learned from your past. Now sleep before I slap you across your hateful face.”

At the chime of the clock Billig Shooshow woke from a horrible dream, but it was not a dream for the second demon was standing before him. The demon was tall with broad shoulders, pale white skin, long black hair, and a smile that was as white as fresh snow. He was dressed in a great coat made of furs of many animals, with a giant flask, and a goblet of gold.

The demon laughed. “Billig Shooshow, I am the demon of the Full Moon. Tonight I will show you what you are missing alone here in your house.”

The Full Moon demon took Billig Shooshow by the hand and flew out the window. First they landed in the woods where his pack was having a party. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, until someone mentioned Billig Shooshow.

A female with a woman’s body, and a wolf tail and ears, stood in the middle of the circle. “My man works for Billig Shooshow. The old ogre makes my husband Hob work day and night with no time off, not even for a full moon run. Our youngest Tiny Peter, the runt of the litter is sick, but Hob still works on for Billig Shooshow without enough pay to give our poor runt the food and medicine he needs. Soon I know our runt will be dead and Hob will still remain chained to his desk. We starve while Billig Shooshow sits alone in the dark counting the money he will never spend. I spit on Billig Shooshow.

The demon of the Full Moon looked at Billig Shooshow and said, “You are a bad boy. A very bad dog. Then the demon laughed and threw Billig Shooshow against the wall.

Billig Shooshow opened his eyes and saw the third demon, the demon of No Moon. It was a huge wolf with shape pointed teeth, huge claws, and the blue eyes of a man.

It said, “Billig Shooshow look,” and pointed out the window. There hanging from a tree was a large black wolf, with Billig Shooshow’s golden brown eyes. Half a dozen men came and skinned the wolf alive then hung it’s flesh over a fire. It turned into a man with no skin. It was Billig Shooshow. His eyes went around and around on his fleshless face.

Billig Shooshow screamed. Then he found himself alone in his own bed. His skin smelled of smoke.

Opening the window he saw a boy and yelled, “Boy, what day is it?”

The boy said, “It is the Holy Day of the Feast of Saint Nicholas.”

Billig Shooshow turned into a wolf and said, “come boy, ride on my back and I will show you wonderful things.” The boy hopped on his back and Billig Shooshow took him to the home of his worker Hob. Hob’s family was overjoyed and ate the boy. They would not go hungry and without a feast.

Werewolves everywhere were amazed at the changes in Billig Shooshow. He was now a wolf who not only ran with the pack, but led the pack under each and every full moon.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I asked my love Gillian if she thought the children of my neighborhood would like to hear the story of Billig Shooshow.

Gillian said, “Vlad, do not tell them that story.” She rolled her eyes and would not explain why. I will trust her judgment. I will find another story.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today I put up black lights for the holiday. But the lights are purple and make colors change. I like these black lights.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I am thinking of getting a red suit. Then again, black is more my color. We will see. We will see.

~ Vlad

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Fangs Giving

Dear Diary,
I was sitting at a night club bar and a woman sat down next to me. She asked if I was spending the Thanksgiving day with my family.

“I do not know where my family is,” I said.

Then she asked, because people are always curious, “How about your parents?”

“My father is dead,” I told her.

Then she said, “I am so sorry. What about your mom?”

“I have my mother’s heart,” I told her.

I do have my mother’s heart in a box in an upstairs closet. It is now dried up with a silver bladed knife running through it.

I did not tell her that. I told her, “I have a sister, and maybe a cousin I could find. They might be dead. They might be alive. Who can tell?”

She gently put her warm hand on my arm, “What about grandparents Vlad?”

“My Baba. I am sure she is still alive. My Baba is a fighter. I had a wife once too but it has been centuries since I’ve seen her.”

HA HA HA. For my friend, she thinks centuries means a few years. I have not seen my former wife for five hundred years. That is a lot of centuries.

~ Vlad

;

Dear Diary,

Tonight I saw my young friends Brittany and Kate. I can say they are friends. I am happy in their company. I drink their blood. They are happy in their ignorance.

We met at a place with loud music. It was too loud like something out of a nightmare. I offered to take the women home in my car because of the rain. As we drove along dark city streets suddenly the women screamed. I stopped. In front of us a car had hit an animal. It continued on. The women got out of the car and grabbed up a small body and brought it into the car. I wrapped it in my coat.

“It is just a puppy,” cried Kate with rain water and tears running down her face.

“It died,” cried Brittany.

I could not let the women be in so much distress. I am a Vampire and my heart is cold, but it is not made of stone and dirt. “I will bury the beast,” I told them.

When I arrived home, after dropping off the women, I put the small gray body in a box. It was still warm. I suddenly thought of my mother who loved all dogs. I went to the closet and took out the jeweled box that contained her heart.

When I was a young man of only thirteen, my mother vanished. Some said she left with a lover. Some said she was killed by the Vampire Hunter Guillaume Morte. Then one night a box was left at the door of the castle with my name on a tag. Young Vlad. It was written in blood. Not my mother’s, I knew the blood was not hers, but the heart, I knew the heart was hers. My father locked himself in his room for a week in great mourning and refused to look at the heart. He told me to put it away, and say her name only in the dead of night.

“Dear Mother, how I miss you,” I whispered as I pulled the blade out of the dried out heart.

The heart vanished with a wisp of red black smoke. Before me stood an apparition of a woman, not my mother, but a ghost of a young woman I had never seen before.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She glared at me. “Who are you?”

“I am Vlad, King of Vampires. Former Kings of Vampires.”

“My name is Jane. I’ve heard of you. You got locked in that crypt for three hundred years. Bummer.”

“How did you know? You’ve been in this box for centuries.”

“I hear things,” she said. “You know, you’ve been carrying me around forever.”

“I thought that was my mother’s heart,” I exclaimed. I did think it was my mother’s heart. How could I have been so mistaken.

“I’m a Werewolf. You know, silver blade, and all that BS. I swear, I’m still pissed off at those guys for stabbing me and cutting out my heart. Damn it. What the Hell is wrong with people?”

I suddenly had a thought. “I have a dog. It is dead but the body is still warm. You could take that body.”

Jane went over to the small body still wrapped in my coat. “That is no dog.” Then she kissed the pup.

“I do not understand,” I said to the ghost.

The pup stood up and walked to me. Then I realized that this was no dog. It was no wolf. It is an animal I have only seen in North America – a coyote.

“She will be your companion, and your familiar,” said Jane. “Her wild soul has left her body so I left her with a piece of Werewolf soul. Hey Vlad, I normally don’t keep company with Vampires, or even like you guys, but thanks for getting me out of that box and freeing my heart. I gotta go. Have fun.” Then Jane vanished into a burst of opalescent light.

The cats walked in large circles around the pup. “I will call her Jane,” I said to them.

The small pup then squatted and peed on my floor.

~ Vlad

__________________

Dear Diary,

The blood of small children and virgins is highly over rated. It lacks in character and depth.

The great feast of Thanksgiving will be here this week. I must prepare. I know almost nothing of this feast. I watch wild turkeys walk in flocks up my street, but these are not the turkeys who will be consumed along with blood red cranberries, bread soaked with broth and cooked until it is dry, and great quantities of root vegetables, and pies.

I will have the blood of poets. I will have the blood of football players. I will have the blood of strong middle-aged women who rule their homes and make the feasts. Then I will sleep it off.

My neighbors asked my Vampire lover Gillian and me to join them in their feast. Gillian asked what we could bring. Blood of course, but Gillian said no. She is bringing roasted yams with garlic and thyme, and a few bottles of Cabernet. She said we must eat a small quantity of food, then have our blood at home. I told her that I know my manners. I am not uncouth or without cultural sensitivity. It makes me angry that sometimes she treats me as if I am a soul-less Vampire of the shadows who is driven by nothing but blood lust.

I even made a joke, the kind that makes one laugh, but Gillian was not amused. I said we would bring blood pudding and blood sausage to the Thanksgiving feast. She said I was disgusting. I made a joke. It was funny. I told her we could bake black birds in a pie. She rolled her eyes at me. I do not understand women and their lack of humor.

When I go out at night among the humans I hear men speaking to each other about their women. Their women treat them like children, questioning their actions, and telling them to behave and use their manners. They are told not to speak of politics, and sports, and automobiles. They talk of building man-caves to escape. This must be a bad situation if they wish to leave the comfort of their homes to live in caves away from women. I wonder about these caves and what motivates the women to drive their men away.

When I return home Gillian greets me with cold passionate kisses and leads me up to our bed. I think I will not have a man-cave.

~ Vlad

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Dear Diary,

Today, during the day, I walked the wee Were Souled Coyote pup named Jane to the park in my neighborhood. My two cats followed me with their tails up high.

When I arrived I found myself surrounded by the women who were out walking. There are always women out walking at this park. It is what Modern women do. They walk in serious ways alone or in groups. And they surrounded me.

They said Jane the Were Souled Coyote pup and I were so cute. They said the cats were so cute. I am a grown man, almost six feet tall, how I can be considered cute as a six week old pup or cats I still do not understand. The logic of these women is beyond me. What is this cute. I have yet to find an answer that will satisfy me.

I smiled at them, minus my fangs, with a small wink, and show of my dimples. I have found, even centuries back, that my special smile with a wink makes women weak at the knees and in my power.

Chuck who lives around the corner told me that puppies are “chick magnets.” Chicks are women. I did not know that until recently.

The grown women giggled like girls and all wanted to hold the small coyote pup. When they asked what kind of dog she is I told them a German Shepard, Queensland Healer, Husky mix. I know one, in this modern age is not supposed to keep wild animals, even if one is a Vampire, but this pup is no longer all coyote. She has the soul of a Werewolf, and no longer has her wild coyote pack soul. She only has her lone soul. The full moon has just passed, but I will be ready for the next full moon. I wonder what will happen, if anything. Time will tell.

In the meantime I will continue to earn my dinner with a wink and a smile.

And if cute helps I will do that too, whatever cute may be.

~ Vlad

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Kissed by a Vampire

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