by Rebecca Foxx
To get here they would have to locate the empty grave, open the secret hatch, and crawl inside. It’s dark, but that’s the way we like it. I sit by candlelight at my personal desk working on my ancient journal it is mostly drawings. As I skim through it I am able to relive my two thousand year old life.
I am mostly sulking. My life had been a long one, although due to my vampire state I am still youthful. It had been long and incredibly dull. That was the life of a vampire. Sneaking around in the dark, hiding out in caves, and drinking blood was pretty much all we ever did. The journal was proof for myself that I had done more than the basics.
After a few moments of flipping old, worn pages I realize something. There are so many stupid drawings of men. Not just men- human men. Each drawing tells a story of an old fling starting with my first love, Theodore.
Most people know him as Jack, but that was a weird point in his life. Supposedly he had killed a few women in London before fleeing to the states. I don’t judge. I mean, it’s not like I had not ever killed anyone before. I am a vampire. My relationship with Theodore ended like all of my other relationships with humans would.
My blood lust got the better of me, and he became a snack. I have tried dating humans time and time again, but it always winds up being a real mess. Seriously, blood gets everywhere.
There are no vampires in my ancient romance journal.
I hate vampires. Sort of ironic considering that I am one. I have never been your typical vampire though. The pink nail polish on my fingers is a dead giveaway that I am not like the others. That and my yellow sundress.
I stand out amongst my clan like a daisy amongst black roses. I still have the pale skin that is associated with my kind. That and my long black hair and blue eyes that occasionally go red is the only part of me that really looks vampire-ish. I wear pink lipstick and throw on blush. I even wear fake silver to show off my style. I’m allergic to real silver. Well, not exactly. It burns through my skin like every other vampire.
As I am skimming through old memories, I find myself feeling a little bit sad. It had been a long time since I had last been in any sort of relationship.
Sure, there were plenty of vampires who were interested, but I preferred to date the living. I decide to finish working on a sketch of a more recent love affair when I suddenly feel someone’s finger nails scratch the back of my head. I spin around, half expecting to spot one of the men screwing with me.
Instead I see my sister, Loraine, and she has a chicken under her arm. “Hungry?” she asks; there is blood dripping from her lips. Loraine is the classic vampire. She is wearing a long, slimming black dress and black corset.
Her lips are painted a dark red color, and her nails are black by nature. She has a piercing on her nose and bottom lip. Her hair is short and brown, and her eyes dark. Her skin si pale, and her general attitude is somewhat frightening.
“Not really.” I say.
“What did you kill another boyfriend?” She asks.
She knows me pretty well. “No. I had cow earlier today.” I say.
Loraine leans over my shoulder and drops the now dead chicken on the ground. “You drank a cow’s blood? Where did you find a cow?”
“There is a farm not too far from here.” I say.
She observes the drawing I am currently working on, “I liked him. He was pretty cool with the whole living dead thing.”
“Not really,” I say. “He just acted like that because he was afraid you would kill him. He got over the fantasy of it really quick.”
“Would you just date a vampire and give up the whole human thing?” Loraine leans on me, practically pushing me out of my chair. She is a bit melodramatic, “There are plenty of available men here.”
“But they are not like me.” I say.
“Oh, yes, believe me, little miss sunshine. You know, some men find the whole pink and sunshine thing a little quirky.” Loraine lets out a lazy laugh. Lazy laughs are about as enthusiastic as anyone around here ever gets.
“I don’t want to date another vampire.” I say.
“Why not? I do.” She says.
I shake my head, “Yes, and the whole on again off again bull that you and Damion do over the century’s looks so appealing, let me tell you-”
“You have that twenty first century sarcasm. Lose it. It’s not attractive.” Loraine lets out an overly dramatic moan, “My poor lonely sister keeps sucking her boyfriend’s dry. Just because they do something that annoys you does not mean you have to give into your blood lust, you know? It all goes back to that Theodore fellow, doesn’t it? He was a creep- even by my standards.”
“Please, he was the biggest loser I ever dated.” I say, “I think I should try to date a normal guy. I always go for these high end socialites.”
“Ewe,” Loraine mumbles, “Are you talking about dating a peasant?”
“It’s the twenty first century, Loraine. We left the Middle Ages a long time ago. No one calls them peasants anymore.” I say.
“What’s the word then, a hobo?” she says the word like it tastes gnarly on her tongue.
I laugh. A real laugh. “No. Just a normal guy. Like someone who lives in one of those apartment things and plays football with his friends on the weekends. Not the son of a senator or a famous serial killer. Just a normal, fun guy.”
“You have such a weird laugh,” Loraine grumbles, but then in a slightly perkier tone says, “I liked the serial killer. He brought us dinner a lot.”
“Yeah, but like you said, he was a creep.” I sigh and close my journal. “I just want to date a normal human. A nice human.”
Loraine rolls her eyes, “Well good luck with that. But I hate to tell you, Sahara, good boys don’t like vampires.” She spins around on her heals and begins her slow walk deeper into the channel of underground caves. Probably heading off to go find Damion. I think they are together at the moment, but I can never be sure.
I am not so easily convinced. I really want to date a human, not a vampire. Vampires are cruel, creepy, and really boring. Humans are fun, happy, and much nicer. I feel so lonely amongst my vampire clan. None of them, not even my sister, seemed to understand me.
My hope is that I can find understanding in a human. The only problem with that is humans die, but it would be nice to have a real relationship even if it is only temporary. I supposed I just have gotten really tired of the status quo.
Ch2
Thomas
My back is aching, I am covered in sweat, and I am severely creeped out as the sun starts to set on the cemetery.
Normally I am a male barista at a local café, so I am not exactly used to the sort of hard labor I have been experiencing the last several weeks. I took a side job working as a grounds keeper at this local cemetery in order to make some extra money, and the job sucks.
Tonight I would be working security until close to four in the morning when my relief guy is supposed to show up. This is after working all day in the lawn and general clean-up of the area.
This is my first night shift at the cemetery, and I have to admit that it is freaking me out a little. It is one of those old cemeteries. There is over two miles of land on the lot, which makes for a lot of graves. Parts of the cemetery are so old that you can just barely make out the etchings on the tombstones due to decades of corrosion.
The cemetery is full of creepy statues of angels, crumbling tombstones, and your fair share of stray cats just to make it all the more eerie. During the day the cats don’t seem so creepy, but at night you would think you were in a witch’s lair. I had taken it upon myself to name the cats, but tonight I do not feel as familiar with my feline friends.
I walk with a flashlight in hand, repeatedly reminding myself why I am here to keep from running off at every little noise. My girlfriend Abigail and I have been dating for over six months now.
For some people it probably seems a little quick, but when you know you know. I am working the extra job in hopes of saving up enough money to buy her a r
ing. She’s an amazing girl, and I can’t wait to ask her to marry me.
I hear a twig snap, and I spin around quickly with my flashlight in hand. “Hello?” I shout into the darkness, “The cemetery is closed for the night!”
I do not see anyone. I keep walking, waving my flashlight in front of me to keep myself from tripping over anything. I swear I hear something run up behind me, and I spin around only to be confronted with absolutely nothing.
“You’re driving yourself crazy, Thomas,” I tell myself. Something else makes a noise, and I turn to my side. It was just one of the cats. “I’m losing it. I swear.” I grumble to myself.
Another noise. This time I swear I hear deep, heavy breathing. Someone is watching me. I swear someone is watching me, but it’s too dark for me to see them. “It’s for Abigail. For Abby. For Abby. For Abby,” I keep saying over and over again.
“I hope this Abby is worth it,” Someone says from behind me. My heart races. I turn and see a man dressed in all black standing before me.
“The-the cemetery is closed.” I say with very little confidence in my voice. How did he even get in here? The gates were all locked, and that would be one hell of a climb.
“Closed?” the man shakes his head, “But I live here.”
I stutter in my confusion and overwhelming fear, “l-live here?”
Suddenly the man hisses. I see fangs. Fangs? His eyes are bloodshot. What the hell am I looking at? He lunges towards me, and I leap backwards. I spin around fast and take off running. The man had fangs. I think I have a right to run. Suddenly he is in front of me. I scream and run off in the opposite direction. How did he get in front of me so fast?
I feel as though the man is right behind me, as though I can feel him breathing down my neck. I hear a loud swooshing sound, and I look up just as the man is jumping clear over me.
He lands right in front of me, and I bump into him. He has a sturdy stance, so I bounce backwards onto the ground when I make impact with him. He lingers over me and shows off his fangs again. I am frozen. I cannot move.
The man lunges down on top of me, still showing off his fangs. I am pretty sure I am going to be murdered by this lunatic. Thankfully, someone else is in the cemetery. A young woman kicks him in the side of his head, and the man falls over. She is strong; she yanks me back up on my feet and shouts, “hurry, follow me!”
I run with her. I am pretty sure I just ran into a nutty serial killer type character. I am so flustered by what has taken place that I do not even notice that the woman is dressed pretty much exactly like the creepy man with the fangs. She has short brown hair, pale skin, and ruby red lips. She is wearing a long, flowing black dress and black corset. For a second I think that she is just a devoted mourner.
We come up on a crept at the far end of the cemetery where the oldest graves are. She shocks me again with her strength as she opens up the cemented door, and we run inside and down a flight of stairs. I am so terrified that I do not even question why there is such a huge flight of stairs in the crept or how the woman knew it was there.
Soon I find myself standing with my savior in a dark cave. There are torches hanging from the cave walls to give off a little bit of light. “Thank you- thank you,” I pant as I lean over a bit to catch my breath.
“No problem, sweetheart,” I hear the woman say. “What’s your name?”
“Thomas. And you?”
“Loraine.” She says.
I stand upright and smile at her. “What the hell was up with that guy? He acted crazy. And did you see how he jumped clear over me while I was running? He must be on something!”
“Oh he’s not on anything.” She says, “He’s a vampire.”
I laugh, “There’s no such thing as vampires.”
“Oh, believe me, there is.” She suddenly smiles big, and I can see that she too has a terrifying pair of fangs.
I’m pretty sure I am losing all color in my face. “You’re a… a vampire?” I ask.
“That’s right.” She says and lets out a hiss that sounds almost casual compared to the violent hisses of the lunatic in the cemetery.
“And you saved me?” I question.
“Of course,” she says, “I wasn’t going to let that idiot have you. He got the last human who went through here. It’s my turn.”
One of two things are happening here. One- I have come across a cult of absolute nut jobs living in the local cemetery. Two- I have found an honest to God vampire clan living in the local cemetery.
Either way, I am out! I will be quitting my job first thing tomorrow. I run up the stairs only to be confronted by the man who had been chasing me. He looks pissed. “You kicked me in the head! You actually kicked me in the head!” he shouts past me. He blocks my exit, and I nervously back up into the woman, Loraine.
“You know good and well that it is my turn, Victor!” She snaps. They are arguing about me as though I am the last Popsicle in the refrigerator!
I am trapped on the stairwell between them. There is nowhere to run. I try to push the woman back, but she is sturdy.
Obviously she is a lot stronger than I am. She grabs my wrist and yanks me back down the stairs and into the cave. I cannot fathom how strong this woman is! “I found him!” the man, whose name is apparently Victor, shouts back down the stairwell.
“You know that we take turns now.” She says, “There aren’t as many humans coming in and out of the cemetery anymore. It was my turn, and you tried to snatch him up for yourself.”
I think I am going to be sick. Yeah… I am probably going to die.
Ch3
Sahara
I have finished my latest addition to my journal full of ink sketches. It was the last page in my journal, so I take out some new parchment and begin to carefully stitch in additional pages. I have to be especially cautious so as not to ruin the older parchment.
Parchment keeps better than paper, but even parchment starts to dwindle over the centuries. Blank pages means opportunity for new memories- new romances.
There is just something exuberating about adding in new pages to my ancient journal. The last drawing is certainly one of my greatest sketches. Looking back to the beginning of the journal back when I first became an immortal, it’s hard to believe it was drawn by the same hand.
In the midst of my admiration for my sketches, I suddenly hear shouting coming from the front of the cave. I glance in the general direction, but whoever is shouting is at the entrance of crept, so I cannot see them from where I am seated. It sounds like Loraine and her boyfriend are arguing about something, but my sonar is picking up a third body.
I take a whiff of the air. I smell human. I lick my lips. It seems that Lorain and Damion are arguing over a snack. It is Loraine’s turn for a human, so I am guessing that Damion thought he could snatch up his girlfriend’s turn.
Human blood is the most nutritious and most appetizing for us, but snatching up humans willy-nilly attracts too much attention. The clan has a rule to only abduct a single human a year to keep from drawing suspicion.
That meant we took turns. There are twenty different vampires in our particular clan, so that meant we each had to wait twenty years for human blood.
For humans, twenty years was a long time, but for immortal vampires it does not seem too terribly long. This year is supposed to be Loraine’s turn, but from what I am hearing Damion thought his girlfriend would let him take her turn. He was always trying to take advantage of Loraine like that.
After listing to several minutes of shouting, I decided to go to her defense. I close my journal after having sewn in the pages I needed. I then head towards the front of the cave where I spot Loraine and Damion staring each other down. “What’s going on? You two are yelling so loud you’re going to wake the dead.”
“He knows it’s my turn.” Loraine hisses at Damion, showing off her pearly white fangs.
“I shared with you.” Damion reminds her.
“Yeah sixty five years ago was the last time you sh
ared with me, Damion.” Loraine snaps, “He’s mine, and you know it.”
I spot the human cowering on the floor behind Loraine. He is an incredibly attractive human. His hair is blonde, his eyes blue, and he is strong and sturdy looking. I love a man with a strong jawline.
I prefer a braver acting gentleman, but I’m assuming he’s never run into one vampire let alone two who are arguing over who gets to drink him dry. I smile at him, “Hi, how are you?”
He looks like he is going to be sick, “Um… I’ve seen better days,” he manages to say in a shaky voice. He obviously does not realize I’m one of them.
While Loraine and Damion are arguing, I reach a hand out to the man and help him stand. His knees are shaking. “I’m Sahara.” I say.
