Something Different Though Sunday Will Always Be For Vampire

 

“Was I a vampire in a past life? Why are mornings so offensive or at least I used to think so when I was younger. How I loved the night and never wanted the sun to come up. That’s definitely food for thought. Somehow over time I evolved to a day-walker. I love getting up early as the sun rises, even going out on the balcony to feel its warmth. I tan pretty good. Geez, why am I so groggy? Whatever I was in the past I know I wasn’t overindulging in blood last night. Sinus nosebleeds are bad enough besides I hate the taste of blood anymore. The blood is the life, ha, what does Dracula know anyway. They killed him he’s dead, so much for immortality. Yeah, if I don’t nod out typing this I’m definitely making coffee. Huh, when I yawn the keyboard gets blurry. Too dumb to go back to sleep… and I need another tissue. At least the coffee will cover the taste of blood running down my throat.”

 

Crazy thoughts or not but can I turn them into a story – forever the million dollar question.

 

What I know is I’m enjoying the cool breeze for now; later on it’s going to be in the 90s and I’ll get the espresso pot percolating shortly. My gosh I can’t stop yawning. That crazy dream I had last night. Was there a message? It’s lost if there were, I can’t recall it at all but I dreamt. I know I did. Had to do with that movie, the obsessive boyfriend-husband, his secret lock box, and not wanting to leave the lake they went to for their honeymoon, devil’s lake. Can’t help but wonder if he didn’t kill his father but the tension was building and I had to stop watching. Maybe I’ll pick up on it with renewed stamina, stamina. I’m so groggy

 

In media of in media res, realities blur, and the million-dollar question remains.

Sunday Is For Vampire

 

They had a friend who worked in the kitchen. “Of course they did, how else could this work…

 

You had to have known, at least suspected there’d be a friend, a fellow vampire or sympathetic bystander to create the Steak Tar tare keeping it on the raw side or pan seared dripping bloody – vampires don’t eat food per se, of course; if there can be some that glitter in the sun rather than burn up we can have ‘em dining out” he said looking directly into the camera but the director didn’t say cut. He let it keep rolling figuring the directness would appeal to the audience like in older films but how effective would it be? Would they appreciate the banter? Hopefully. Maybe another promo to win a cameo on a Jeff Conrad movie could draw others like Nathan in. It’s not so hard to separate worthy from undesirables. Eh, it was something to do… for now. They had forever. Who can fathom ‘forever’? Even with a few centuries in, not yet.

 

Conveniently there were a chef and waiter who had always been helpful. They were seated, ordered and their meals were brought…

 

“Cut!”

 

“What… the steak?” Everyone laughed as Marie and Christof walked toward Jeff. “How did you like it?” “Very believable.” Jeff poured the three of them wine from a decanter. “Thanks Nathan. What a good actor he turned out to be.” They gave knowing laughs as glasses were raised. “Your fangs!” Marie cozied up to Jeff, Christof moved close in behind. “You’ll break another one and cut yourself.” “Blood is blood.” “Where do you come up with these storylines? I can’t imagine only animals…” Jeff covered her mouth with his.

 

 

Sunday Is For Vampire

 

“Guess he shouldn’t have blamed us for his murder”. “Yeah, always know your opponent… or victims in this case.” “Research is important…” They kept appearing then vanishing, appearing then vanishing as vampires do corralling him but he was too busy running for his life to realize it. “What do they call this these days, shimmering?” “Love it! Wish I could’ve pulled this off before. I spent a good part of my life doing an awful lot of running. This would’ve been an incredible skill to have when a patient codes. Being there immediately. Saving more lives…maybe.” He was heading toward an opening that lead into woods not that it would’ve helped him. “Oh, should pay better attention.” “I was.” He shimmered to the point the murderer was going to turn to run. “No you don’t. Going somewhere?” He collapsed to the ground.

 

“Now would be good a time as any.”

 

“Just a nibble like a mouse. You’ll be staying at my house.” She bit into his neck just enough to make a difference in his life… or you could say death. He would then be compelled to stay within the boundaries they set as they populated it with others just like him, you know, of his kind. “Who is this guy anyway?” Marie pulled his wallet out of the inner pocket of his very crumpled and torn jacket. “Nathan. Nathan Mastracchio. Cosa Nostra Nathan?” Her voice became soft as if speaking absent minded, “Cosa Nostra turned slayer. In either case not any more.” She handed it to Christof. He pulled out a considerable wad. “A night on the town dear? Bat mode or shimmer?” They stood outside their favorite pizzeria. “Bat mode! I’m tired of bumping into things…”

 

Arm in arm they entered the restaurant.

 

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Prompt 3: An awful lot of running.

Prompt 5: No you don’t

 

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