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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Pretty in Pick - A Short Vampire Story - Act II

As he transferred it onto the heathen’s plate, not only did he have to endure the searing flames whisking off the garlic-laced spaghetti, he had to listen to a loud belch that was produced by the hick amid the excitement.

“Sorry,” he feebly offered, but he wasn’t really sorry at all, Qieu decided. The idiot had the table manners of a wild dog.

Well, he’d get his in all due time, Qieu decided – just not tonight. The man had enough garlic racing through his blood to kill an entire pack of vampires.

“Whoops!”

Qieu dodged, his reflexes a bit too slow as the fork plunged into the toe-area of his leather-clad foot.

“Sorry,” the hick offered again, obviously his favorite word. “Nothing was injured, I hope.”

Qieu decided that this idiot didn’t care if he’d injured anything important, or not, for he dove into the new mound of spaghetti without waiting for a response to his question.

He chanced a look at this man’s dining companion; blond, nails and lips the color of blood, one of which rolled up slightly and quivered as her obvious response to Qieu’s curious glance.

With as much grace as he could muster, Qieu eased out, “I assure you, Sir, nothing was damaged – neither this time, or ten minutes ago when you dropped the crystal goblet on my other foot.”

His customer merely shook his head and continued eating, focusing on his pile of spaghetti that was swiftly dissipating.

Qieu meandered away, glad to escape the bumbling idiot. It also gave him a bit of time to recover from the pungent scent of the garlic.

Twenty minutes later he was bustling as fast as he could, trying to tie up all the loose ends, for closing time was at hand. A loud whistle cut through the air and Qieu honed in almost immediately on the hick. Two fingers were still locked inside his lips. He quickly removed them and motioned Qieu over.

“Need my check,” he drawled, jerking his cowboy hat from the seat of an adjacent and capping it onto his head. “Darla’s ready to go, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

Qieu widened his dark eyes as Darla blew the hick an imaginary kiss. Then he quickly deposited the ticket onto the table – a ticket that had been ready and waiting for two hours now.

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Act 1 | Act 2 |Act 3

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