THE OLD MADE NEW

The Vampire

THE VAMPIRE

It was a chilly Friday evening in early November. Andrew finished his classes and walked across the parking lot to his crumbling car, his mind elsewhere. His girlfriend, Mary, was bringing her friend Kimberley over tonight for dinner and some fun. The front of Andrew’s jeans swelled as he thought about the conversation he’d had with Mary the night before, about her intentions for the night with Andrew and Kimberley.

Andrew was the first guy that Mary had dated in almost three years. The two of them were nearly inseparable, their love grown from the seeds of a deep friendship. The bisexual Mary had recently suggested she make every man’s fantasy come true for Andrew; to bring another woman to the bedroom. Mary would get her lesbian fix, and Andrew would get the best night of his life—everybody wins.

Mary had chosen one of her best friends, someone she shared a few classes with at the community college. A few pictures of Kimberley from Mary’s cell phone was all it took to banish any doubts Andrew might have had and replace them with fantasies.

I hope this can turn into a regular thing.

Andrew sang along to his favorite mix CD as he sped home--Twisted Sister, Disturbed, even Princess Esperance's debut single was on his mix.  He made one stop at the liquor store to pick up a 30-pack of beer, then finished his journey in record time.  Grabbing the beer, Andrew quickly left his car and mounted the three steps to his door. He was greeted at the door to his trailer by the smell of Papa John’s—and a horrific sight.

The whole room was dark, the curtains pulled shut and heavy quilts hung over them for good measure.  Dispelling the darkness was a vast collection of candles that covered the end tables, computer desk, and coffee table.  Music played in the background, the driving riffs of metal.  What drew Andrew’s undivided attention, however, was the body of Mary on the floor.

She was dressed in the sexiest lingerie Andrew had ever seen—obviously a new purchase for this special occasion—and wore makeup, unlike her regular day-to-day.  A set of perfect, blood-stained wounds marked her neck, and her skin was much more pale than usual.  It was clear that Mary was suffering from a severe and unexpected case of the death.

“Oh good, you brought beer,” said Kimberley, who sat on the couch in a push-up bra, thong, and stockings.  She licked her red lips—blood red lips—and reached for a cold one.  Andrew numbly pulled a can from the box and passed it to the woman.

“You…you’re a…a vampire?” Andrew said, stunned. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“I’m a what?” Kimberley purred seductively, grinning, baring her fangs.

“Vampire!” he shouted in a whisper.

“Pah! ‘Vampire.’ You say it like you understand the word, like you know what the Hell you’re talking about.  You don’t.”

“I know that you’re a vampire,” Andrew retorted, only mouthing the last word, as if her supernatural nature had sucked the voice from his throat.

“And what, exactly, is a vampire?” the vampire asked, leaning back on the sofa.  From her countenance he could surmise that she was amused, but it was the amused smile of a hungry tiger.

“You know…a vampire.  Undead.  You sustain yourself on the blood of the living.  You prey upon humanity, seeing yourself as its ultimate evolution or something.  You turn into bats and sleep in a coffin all day and…and…vampire!” he finished, flabbergasted.

“Riiight.  So, you get all your ‘expert vampire knowledge’ from reading crappy teenage fantasy, playing Dungeons & Dragons, and watching the Blade trilogy, is that it?  That makes you some sort of authority on vampirism, like now you can just spot us on sight?” She demanded, her voice gaining a dangerous edge.