Become a Fan
Unlucky in Death
By Dan Dillard
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
David is a vampire. This is distressing to him because he faints at the sight of blood, misses bacon, coffee... the simple things in life. He'll find a way to cope... read on to find out what it is :)
“So, tell me why you are here today?”
“I‟m a vampire.”
“Interesting, and how long has this been going on?”
This is my life—er—death now. Three weeks ago I got jumped by some hippie in the park and he didn‟t drain me completely. Fuck.
I have issues with this for the following reasons:
I love garlic. All the wonderful ethnic foods that are out there and I‟m stuck with blood. It tastes like iron. I don‟t even suck on a paper cut like most folks. I took a bite of pizza from my fridge that next morning and it burned my tongue. It was cold…Fuck.
I‟m a morning person for Christ‟s sake. I liked getting up early. I like coffee.
This just sucks (no pun intended).
That brings me to my final point. This is a tad embarrassing, but I pass out at the sight of blood. Can‟t handle it. Don‟t even like strawberry jam or red paint because it makes me swoon. So here I sit with a therapist who thinks I‟m one nut short of a testicle sack and I just want help.
“A few weeks,” I reply.
She scribbles something in her notepad. I‟d bet it‟s a shopping list.
“Is that why you requested such a late appointment? You‟re my last of the day.”
“Yup, sunscreen wasn‟t as effective as I‟d hoped.”
She looks up over her reading glasses but isn‟t amused.
It was true . I put on sunscreen after I figured out I was undead. SPF 60. It was the strongest stuff I could find at the drug store. The next morning I rolled out of bed and wandered outside just to sizzle like a piece of bacon.
God I miss bacon.
“How did you become a vampire?” she asked in her droning clinical tone.
“I got bit by one walking through the park,” I said.
“How did you know he was a vampire?”
She stopped writing and crossed her fingers on the desk.
“He gave me his business card,” I said.
“Honestly, he had fangs and bit me on the neck to drink my blood. Don‟t you read books? I mean, you‟re a doctor.”
I‟d let some frustration show.
“Yes and I rather enjoy vampire stories,” she crossed her legs under the desk, “shouldn‟t I be afraid you will kill me?”
“That‟s just it. I‟m afraid of the sight of blood. I faint.”
That got a laugh.
“I see your predicament,” she said now scribbling again.
“How did you think I could help?”
“You were just the first shrink in the phonebook that had an open appointment slot. I‟m not sure if you can.”
“Well there‟s no cure that I‟m aware of for vampires, but we might be able to work something out,” she smiled as she wrote.
“Are there any other creatures of the night I should be aware of?”
I knew this was a bad idea and my face showed it.
“How the hell should I know? This is all new to me.”
I lay down on the couch. I was actually surprised to see the couch, just like in films. Terms like „crazy couch‟, „loony loveseat‟ and „daft davenport‟ kept running through my head. It was surprisingly comfortable until she spoke again.
“Where are your fangs? You do have fangs, right?”
I don‟t. Not yet anyway. I guess they will come in eventually. How long does it take to grow teeth? In books and movies you get bit and BANG! You got choppers. Me? I had nothing but regular teeth, although my gums have been aching.
Holy shit, I‟m thirty-seven years old and I‟m teething.
“Not yet. I know that sounds bat-shit crazy. I guess they haven‟t grown in yet.”
“I don‟t use the term crazy, but it is definitely out of the scope of normal.”
She put the pen down again and took her glasses off to make a point.
“Have you confronted this man that bit you? Maybe he has the answers.”
I hadn‟t considered that. I mean, he attacked me, why would I go back? I guess being a vampire now, I had nothing to fear. What could be worse, right?
“Hadn‟t thought of it. Right after the session is over, I‟ll talk to him,” I said.
I half expected her to stop me.
“I think that‟s a good idea,” she said.
Even if she doesn‟t believe my vampire story, she should assume I was at least attacked. Now she wants me to confront my attacker.
The holes in my neck healed within a day so I had no proof.
“What if he attacks me again?”
“If you‟re a vampire, it shouldn‟t matter, right?”
This was stupid. She wasn‟t even treating me as a crazy person. I was more like a kid that needed to stand up to the school bully. I sat silent until she finally broke in with a question.
“Do you sleep in a coffin?”
“No, a waterbed, but I did have to black out my windows. Like I said, the sun is not my friend.”
“Ah. So the legends are all true in your experience?”
“So far. I haven‟t been staked yet, but I‟ll make sure and let you know if that happens.”
Fuck this quack. I was fed up and ready to roll. Thankfully our time was over.
“Will I see you next week?” she asked.
“Yep, maybe I‟ll have proof by then,” I said and walked out. She‟s probably a werewolf. Bitch.
On the way to the park, I caught a whiff of the little Italian restaurant on the corner. Heaven.
It was also my hell. That fucking hippie better be there. I need answers.
He was. Lying on a park bench, I could see his dreadlocked hair and tie-dyed shirt.
“What the fuck, dude?” he said when I kicked his legs off the bench.
“You don‟t know who you‟re messin‟ with.”
“I do actually; you bit me a few weeks back.”
He already pissed me off.
“Oh yeah, man, I remember you. Sweet, what‟s up bro?”
“Why didn‟t you kill me?” I asked.
“Have a seat man,” he said.
Great a polite bloodsucker. He‟s like an attorney.
“I don‟t kill people, man. I just take what I need and move on. I was a vegan before this happened.”
“You tellin‟ me that you‟ve created others?”
“Let‟s see. I feed about twice a week and goin‟ on six months of the night life now, that‟s like fifty bat-people, I guess.”
As crazy as that all sounded, I kinda liked this guy.
“Six months? Fifty vampires, you say.”
“Yup. That sounds about right. Did you need somethin‟ man? I‟m sorry I turned you.”
“Lotta good that does me. Look. I can‟t drink blood. I don‟t even have fangs. Can I change back?”
“Ha ha, no dude. This is pretty permanent. Your fangs will grow. I had mine in a few weeks. You gotta feed, bro, that speeds up the process.”
“You don‟t understand. I faint at the sight of blood.”
“Whoa, that‟s pretty fucked up,” he said scratching his arm.
I got up to leave. He grabbed my arm and I saw his long dirty fingernails.
“Wait, dude. I think I can help. Like I said, I was vegan.”
“What have you got in mind?”
“You‟ve got to be starving, man. Can‟t you smell it? There‟s blood everywhere.”
I smelled spaghetti marinara and piss-stained bum. People walked all around us on the bustling streets.
“Focus, man. Think of it as something else. I call it „the juice‟,” he said hypnotically.
“Yeah, bro, the juice of life.”
“This is fucking corny.”
“Let it ride man, trust me.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes ready to take a new tack. Once I felt sufficiently focused, I opened my eyes and took another breath. I could smell it. I could hear the heartbeats. I salivated.
Then I fainted.
What the hell is that noise? I feel so clammy.
“Hey, dude? You ok?”
It‟s the hippie vampire. This is so surreal.
“I‟m fine,” I said and sat back up from my slump.
“Man, you really are a pussy, aren‟t you?”
He was smiling at me, the points of his fangs tucked behind his lower lip.
“I told you, although I‟m not sure pussy is the term.”
“Oh yeah, you pass out at the thought of blood? You‟re a total pussy.”
He had a point. I was a dreaded demon that lived on the stuff.
“I‟ve got another idea that might work.”
I was not ready for any more experiments, but what choice did I have. Can I starve to death? I‟m already dead-ish.
“Can you tell me your name first? I feel like should be introduced since you killed me.”
“Totally, I‟m Bob.”
“Bob the hippie vampire? Dracula Bob?”
“Nope, just Bob. I‟m not a hippie, man. I‟m a surfer.”
“Surfer? What the hell are you doing in a landlocked state?” I screamed.
“I was visiting my parents, got bit, and here I am.”
“Well, Bob, I‟m David.”
“Cool to make your acquaintance,” he said and handed me a joint.
I hadn‟t smoked weed in almost twenty years but the idea had merit.
“What‟s that gonna do?”
“Mellow you out. It‟ll center you mind. Best of all, it‟ll give you the munchies. High people eat anything. Just take a hit, man. I got a match around here somewhere.”
“I can smoke?”
“Why not? I wouldn‟t try eating though. I tried a salad right after I got turned. It wasn‟t pretty, dude.”
“I don‟t want details,” I said.
“No. No you don‟t.” He found the match and lit the tightly rolled little gadget, taking a drag. I took it from him and sucked in some smoke. It tickled my throat but tasted nice. We passed it back and forth until I was sufficiently high.
“Now, dude. Try again,” Dracula-Bob said.
I closed my eyes and started giggling. He joined me for a minute.
“Control, man, you need control. One more time.”
This time, I relaxed and took a few deep breaths. I could hear everything. Then the heartbeats came. Then came the smell of hot blood, the juice of life and my stomach didn‟t turn. I was starving.
“You‟re a genius, Bob,” I said as I opened my eyes.
“Wow. That‟s something I don‟t think I‟ve ever heard,” he said staring blankly into space.
“I don‟t doubt it.”
I could feel the pulse of everyone around me and I stood to find a snack.
“You go get „em, man,” I heard Bob say as I left him there.
I made my first kill that night. She was younger than me and quite beautiful. I drained her completely until she stopped moving. The blood tastes different after the body dies, stale. I guess that‟s how you know when to stop. It rushed through me like fire filling my being with vitality. The worry was gone, the stress was gone and the hunger was gone. It was four thirty in the morning when I stopped feeding and needed to get to safety.
I staggered back to my apartment using the back alleys so I wouldn‟t be seen and went to the bathroom to wash my face. When I turned the light on I could see the
buds of my new fangs poking through the gums. Dried blood covered my chin and caused me to pass out.
“Nice to see you back,” said the shrink.
Her glasses were back in place at the end of her pointed nose and she scribbled again.
“Good to be here,” I said.
“Did you talk to your assailant?” she asked sarcastically.
“I did. His name‟s Bob. We got high and then I made my first kill. Nice guy.”
She continued to write.
“Really? So marijuana helped your fear of blood?”
“I guess so. The problem is now I have to find weed and blood. I haven‟t smoked in years, not sure how to go about scoring some. I hear you can get prescriptions for that nowadays,” I said.
“This is true , but you don‟t have cancer or glaucoma,” she sighed as if she was bored with the banter.
“Right. I guess I‟ll just try the local elementary school.”
“Where is Bob now?”
“He went back to the coast. He missed the surfing.”
She still didn‟t believe me. That was fine.
“I do have something to show you,” I said.
“Really, what‟s that?”
“My fangs came in,” I said licking the tip of one, then the other.
They‟re quite impressive.
“Uh huh,” she said, “I‟d like to see that.”
She finally stopped scratching notes on her legal pad long enough to look up and see that I was approaching her desk. The light glinted off of my new canines and I felt her heartbeat quicken. Then the blood drained from her face and she passed out.
That gave me just enough time to smoke up before dinner.
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|Reviewed by J Howard
|intense humor. very intense. our inner thoughts are interesting to share with others-