Friday, May 18, 2018

"Vampire in Suburbia" (a story by Michael D'Orazio, circa 2010)

      My pale skin gives me away as I enter the Inn.  They all look with merry faces as they pin the town fool on me.  As I walk across the floor to the edge of the bar I look around for my next victim.
     I play the fool so someone will fall, and I will have my fill.  They are all remarkable of low imaginative value.  They do not know, that I know that their merry days will end, for the lady they desire will be mine.
     She sits there next to me.  She glows with a God given spirit.  So much I cannot utter words.  Her brilliance blinds me as the wicked men growl at me with murderous contempt.
“Hello” I say to her.  She goes “Hmmmffff”, and looks away.  I am beneath her.  She is untouchable to me.
     I say “Your last boyfriend wasn’t such a snob”.  She says,“Who are you anyways?”.  (A Dream, I thought, but maybe a nightmare).
I said gleefully, “That man across the bar you had relations with wants to slit my throat”!!  She says coldly, “He will do what I want and what I say.  You are a nobody in this town, and will surely not last.  You're a pretty boy, but I am sure that there is a man that will have you, and not me”.
    I thought that this was a typical answer from the town whore.  And as I absorbed her ill talk, her big burly boyfriend came, and asked me to sit in the next bar stool over.  In fact I moved to the other side of the bar to diffuse any tension that we had between us.  There at the other side I was harassed by the other cronies that were friends of her entourage.
    It’s like me not to run away, and not face the music.  I’d rather take the abuse and learn from it than not know what’s around the corner.  In fact I don’t believe in karma, for  I cant hurt a fly.  I get hurt sometimes, and this makes me think.  What is my destination?  Will I end up in a wheelchair when I get real old, or will I be in optimum  shape when my time comes.  Who knows?  Will I live 200 more years If I believe and desire to live on, and see if we survive on this god forsaken planet.
     I lived for 100 years, and I look like I am 26.  For that was the age I was brought into darkness.  And I still know very little about human existence.  For I am not a human anymore.  That was a short time, and during that time I learned very little except suffering and dismay.
     My new existence was given to me as a consolation for not knowing how to live life.  I stumbled upon an infected teen who wanted me for his own.  He lured me with his affections, and his smooth talk.  He made me feel like I belonged, and that I was needed.  We were together always, until that fateful day when he uttered words that murdered our trust.  Him and a few others stole my light, and my soul, and it was replaced with a malignant spirit that guided me into malevolence.
     Ever since those days I have been driven by worldly ambitions, to replace the love that was taken from me and lost.  Now I am no better than a beggar in the streets, looking for emotional handouts from strangers.  I have been in a state of agitation with little vital energy to sustain me.  Now I suck the life force out of the people closest to me.  I live in a whirlpool of negativity, that begins with my family, and sucks everything from it’s surrounding environments.
     I am not sure if I am a pawn, or my intelligence is making vital decisions in my life that will guide me in the right direction.
     There was a time that I summoned a spirit to carry me, and deliver me from evil influences.  For I am a pure being, but what I project and materialize in space is darkness.
     I am the illusion of a dark being, secretive, and evasive.  I can only enter the life of another when I am invited.  But when I am, I drag their souls down, and make them one of mine own.  Some stay and bond with me, others run and use their power against me.  There is no way I can’t catch something when I weave my web.  But mostly I walk alone for I am doomed by God to face the world in solitude.  I am not welcome anywhere, but frequent places of debauchery for comfort.  "I believe there is nothing more delicious than the soul of an evil man, or woman."
(Last line adopted from "Interview with a Vampire", by Anne Rice)

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