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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Dark · #1661488
A vampire finds himself driven to madness by the Glampire fad.
**This is still a work in progress, but I thought I'd post what I have so far.**

  “Did I ever tell you about the day I died? No? It was funny really; not haha funny, but...well damn it, yeah I guess it was kind of haha funny. If, that is, you have a sense of humor that runs to the morbid.”

  “Vinny,” Amiee said disapprovingly, “leave the boy alone. He’s been through enough tonight. You know, with the whole dying and being reborn thing.”

  “Ah come on, I’m just trying to make him feel welcome.”

  The boy, seventeen and nervous, fidgeted as he looked at the door to the warehouse. “Look, I don’t know what kind of weird shit you guys are into but....”

  “Guys?” Amiee protested, “ do I look like a guy to you?”

  It was true, no one would mistake Amiee for a guy, she was tall enough at six-foot-one, but with her long raven hair and her well developed bust-line not many would doubt her gender. Besides, Amiee had always taken great care to dress in a feminine yet provocative way. It was her way of dealing with centuries of ‘how’s the weather up there’ or ‘hey stretch’ comments.

  Not that Amiee took the “you guys” comment to mean the boy thought that she really was a man, but still, after all of the abuse over the years, she took a bit of umbrage.

  Amiee flipped her hair and leaned over to pick up some imagined object from the floor. Her low cut lose blouse left little to the imagination. The boy reacted by leaning towards her until he realized that she had noticed, then he quickly averted his eyes.

  Just like a man, she thought, dead for just hours; frightened and confused, and still, he takes time too look at the first pair of boobs he sees. The thought amused her to the point that she had to stifle a laugh. This one would be fun to play with in the future, she knew it. Sure it would drive Vinny nuts, and it might get the boy’s throat ripped out, but really, when you’ve lived for hundreds of years you find any diversion that you can. There is only so much on TV after all.

  The boy looked at the door wanting to run but not quite sure that he had the strength; he wasn’t even sure he could lift himself from the folding chair that he dangled from. What have these people done to me? I need to get out of here before they really do kill me, he thought.

  “I wouldn’t do it,” Vinny said, smiling at the boy,”it’s getting close to daylight and you wouldn’t make it two blocks before you were consumed.”

  “Consumed?” The boy looked to Amiee hoping that maybe she could make sense of this madman’s ranting. “Ok, I know you think you’re vampires, and sure that’s fun and all. But really, don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too far. Kidnaping, drugging me, if you let me go now I wont say anything, I swear.”

  “Go if you’d like, but as I said you wont get far.”

  “Listen,” the boy shouted, trying to hide the panic in his voice, “you don’t want to screw with me, my dad’s a cop.”

  Amiee laughed.

  “What are you laughing at? When he finds out what happened the whole Cleveland police force will be looking for you. You wont be able to hide anywhere.”

  Vinny ignored the boy’s bluster. He thought back to when he was made; he must have put on quite a show as well.

  “Why are you doing this?” The boy’s voice changed tone from aggression to pleading.

  “Why were you following us? Why did you attempt to befriend us in the bar?” Vinny knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from the boy.

  “I thought you were different. You didn’t seem like all of the posers pretending to be nosferatu.”

  “Nosferatu!” Vinny screamed grabbing the boy and lifting him, slamming him firmly against the cold wall of the abandoned warehouse that had become their home. “What do you know of nosferatu?”

  “Vincent, por o menino para baixo agora!” Amiee shouted reverting to their native language. “The boy hasn’t harmed you.”

  Vinny relaxed his grip a bit letting the boy slid to the floor. “What do you know of the undead? What do any of youin that bar, drinking your blood colored tomato juice and dressing in black know of the undead?” Vinny growled angerly.

  “I...uh, we...well...” The boy stammered.

  “Nothing!” Vinny shouted with an anger steeped in centuries of aggravation. “You play nosferatu and glamorize things you can’t possibly understand. You play at being dead and now you make us into some sort of effeminate joke.”

  The boy crawled along the wall trying to get away from Vinny, but vinny moved closer, more angry with every step.

  “Why did you follow us?” Vinny demanded and answer.

  “I guess because you seemed old school, you know, more authentic.”

  Vinny relaxed and backed away. Amiee ran to the boys side and helped him back into the folding chair.

  “Você fêz bastante ao menino, ele deve alimentar logo.” Amiee said, not wanting the boy to understand.

  “English woman,” Vinny scolded, “Our young friend can’t possibly speak our tongue. You don’t do you boy?”

  “What?”

  “Speak Portuguese. Do you speak it?” Vinny waited for an answer but the boy just stammered incoherently. “No, I didn’t think so. Now speak so he can understand.”

  “I don’t think I want to.”

  “What did you ssy?” Vinny looked sternly at Amiee.

  “I said he must feed soon” Amiee mumbled.

  “And he shall. Are you ready to begin your new life boy?”

  “B-Bruce” the boy stammered.

  “What?”

  “My name is Bruce, not boy.”

  Amiee laughed, “Oh that’s just perfect, you’ve created a fearsome creature...Vampire Bruce.”

  “Shut up” Vinny screamed.

  “Bruce,” she doubled over holding her stomach as she laughed, “Bruce the Wicked. Now that's rich” 
 
                                             
                                       
© Copyright 2010 J Gordon Bennett (jgordonbennett at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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