Vampire Stories

Mirror Image - A human hull transformed into an everlasting prince of the night, a Vampire. So much is gained, but not without loss.

One with so many powers is now powerless to gaze into a simple looking glass. What does this malaise represent? No turning back? A release from mankind, yet the need for mankind in order to survive?

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Vampire Stories - Please Won't You By My Neighbor

ACT II

Duchess. What a total delight! She was a sweet breath of fresh air, such wonderful company for those long and languorous lonely nights. Drake’s entire world had changed since he’d taken the lady into his home.

But Mr. Smith didn’t like Duchess. And ‘didn’t like’ wasn’t a strong enough word. The man totally despised her! What a foul person!

On midnight during two altercations, he had almost pounded the front door down, complaining that Duchess was keeping him away with her loud howling. Drake found the howls to be of a soothing nature, not harsh and not at all too loud. If anyone was loud, it was that Mr. Smith person banging on his front door!

But tonight was the worst confrontation to date. Mr. Smith had informed Drake that a lawsuit would be filed come morning. Why? It appeared that Duchess was driving his boxer, Morty, insane.

Well, if the truth be known, Morty was already on the coocoo side, had been since birth. It wasn't Duchess’ fault that the idiot mutt was turning the white fence that separated the properties, yellow. It wasn’t Duchess’ fault that Morty would require a leg operation due to a strained tendon from extended hiking of the leg.

Drake had been keeping a keen eye on Morty since he’d first moved here, three years ago. Morty tended to switch from one habit to the next. The first year Drake moved in, the dog spent most of the night digging foxholes in the Smith’s backyard, some of which would accommodate a troop of men!

That second year, the dog had developed a passion for licking. Half of the paint was missing from the Smith’s back screen door due to Morty’s efforts. Perhaps the paint had been laced with lead, thereby adding to the dog’s phobias.

Last year, he’d spent each night, all night, barking at the moon – even when there was no moon.

So it wasn’t Duchess’ fault that the idiot mutt was spraying the fence on a nightly basis.

Perhaps he imagined himself as a skunk with a misplaced shooter?

Drake knelt to deliver an affectionate pet to Duchess’ beautiful white head. “What a pretty dog you are!” he told her, and she bowed her head and looked queenly, as if she had understand his kind remark.

“Jones! Out of here!”

Duchess rolled her large eyes into her head, Drake rising and walking to the back door to exit into the yard. The moon was full and bright, hanging low overhead. He could clearly make out Smith in the short distance, confronting him over the five-foot white fence that now bore a wide yellow streak. Thank you, Morty.

“It’s three A.M.,” Drake felt inclined to point out. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

This was getting ridiculous. Until now, the nights were preciously sweet after midnight, when Smith generally hit the sack.

“I could ask you the same!” Smith bit out, his voice cruel and rude.

“I’ve told you before that I work nights,” Drake reminded, noting that Morty was jumping in the background, leaping up like he was trying to catch some imaginary Frisbee. Nutty dog.

“Nonetheless, what’s the matter this time?”

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NAVIGATE SHORT VAMPIRE STORY BY ACT

Act I | Act II | Act III

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