My Vampire Challenge
Born To Be Mild
Born To Be Mild
The horse-drawn hearse crept to a stop on the edge of the forest, invisible to any eyes that might be apt to witness the proceedings but situated so that the driver could see into the clearing. Only the light of a harvest moon filtered onto the path as the back doors opened and a cheap pine casket rolled off. A quick snap of the latches allowed the lid to swing open, revealing a corpse positioned on its side, legs pulled up against the torso in the fetal position, both hands underneath the face as if deep in prayer… hardly the customary funeral parlor pose.
“Okay, pal, time to get up. Nappy-time’s over…up and at ‘em!” The driver’s hand shook the shoulder of the corpse until the eyes opened. The stiff sat upright and a small groan squeaked out as he raised his arms to stretch, then three staccato bursts of flatulence escaped, causing him to grin.
“Atta boy… come on!” A quick slap on the cheek caused the corpse to frown as his hand grabbed the driver’s.
“You’ve made your point, knock it off, already!” The eyes now glowed in the darkness, causing the driver to cower a little.
“No offense, Drac, it’s just that lately you’ve been— well, let’s just say you’ve been off your game a little.”
The otherworldly red glow subsided as Dracula rested both arms on opposite sides of the casket and hoisted himself to a standing position. “Yea? Okay, smartass, let’s see how well you do when you’re six hundred and seventy four years old! You think it’s easy staying sexy all the time? It’s not like I have access to Bobby Weiner…”
Stepping out of the coffin, the vampire pointed to it and stared at the driver. “Is this the best you can do? Pine, for Christ’s sake, you’ll excuse the blasphemy? What does a guy have to do to get a little respect these days? I mean, I could understand it if you were new to the job, but, Igor, you’ve been with me for… what, two hundred years? Come on, how about we dress it up a little… who knows, I may get lucky tonight, and I don’t particularly like the idea of bringing someone back to pine, that’s all I’m saying here…”
“Hey, boss, times are tough right now. Have you priced horse chow these days? And if you’ll forgive my saying so, you’re beginning to sound a little meshuggeneh.”
Now, something approaching pity emanated from the vampire’s expression. “Oy…” he croaked, shaking his head back and forth, “I should have known better than to allow you to vacation in Miami.”
The driver removed his black top hat and placed it at his chest, now staring at the ground. “My bad…”
Vlad Tepes gently squeezed Igor’s arm. “It’s okay, forget it. Feed the horses, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. We’ll dine tonight, my old friend… we’ll dine tonight.”
The driver stared intently at his boss. His human countenance now showed some of the ravages of age; an unsightly bulge plagued his waistline and Igor knew he’d secretly been receiving hair implants along his forehead.
“Would you like your cape?”
“I guess that would depend… where are we, Igor?”
Igor consulted his map before scratching his head, “As close as I can tell, about a mile outside of Sweet Home, Alabama.”
A quick glance at the moon caused the vampire to shake his head. “Naaah… it’s still a couple of weeks until Halloween, no cape… I’m going to score just like I am, like a mortal… with my innate manliness.” Now, the Count grinned and brushed his hands down both arms of the cowboy shirt he wore and tugged at the huge belt buckle peeking out from under his paunch. Brown and white ostrich boots offered a neon presence below the skin-tight stone-washed Levi’s. Then, with an embellished pirouette, he disappeared.
******
The honky-tonk could have passed for any of its namesakes depicted in the endless string of bad movies featuring loud country music, line dancing and too many drunk rednecks packed into a bar room setting, oblivious to time and, judging from the depth of the necking currently being practiced in nearly every venue both on and off the dance floor, any semblance of or concern for, virtue. Sodom and Gomorrah held nothing over this place, this should be easy.
A quick perusal of the scene yielded immediate gains. A youngish lady stood by herself keeping time with the music. Although certainly not a beauty, she held a certain comely charm in the way her hips sashayed in time to the music and the longneck amber beer bottle danced in her right hand. This gal wants to party!
“Hey there, Sugarpie, how about a dance?” ‘Dance’, in his attempt to approximate a Southern drawl, sounded more like ‘daints’. Yea, that oughta do it.. come to papa.
“A what?” Her bottle stopped bopping and she stared at Drac with an air of suspicion previously unknown to her.
“You know… a dance… going out there with the everyone else and shakin’ it around a little…” This time ‘dance’ sounded like ‘dance’.
Still staring through eyes hardened to sudden devious BS, she looked him up and down and replied, “Not just no… but, Hell No!”
“Oh, come on now,” Drac countered, his eyes beginning to glow in the semi-darkness, “you know you can’t resist me. Would you like to touch the equipment and feel its devastating power?” Pressing against her with his now-throbbing manhood caused her to pull away in horror.
Reaching up, she put her face close to his and ever-so-lightly touched his ear with her lips, whispering, “Honey, no offense, but if I’m going dining, I want a meal, not a snack.”
Quickly, the woman released him, turned her back and started to walk away.
“Wait!” he said, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around so that once again she faced him. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean any harm, I’m just new in town, and I thought it’d be nice to meet someone as attractive as you.”
Through a snarl, she managed, “Buddy, if you have any idea whatsoever of how much damage one little squirt of pepper spray can inflict, you’d be wise to take your dick-skinners off me.”
Drac shrugged and released her. “Okay… I’m sorry.” This isn’t as easy as I’d envisioned.
Suddenly, her visage softened. “Oh, that’s okay…” she said, her voice now remorseful, “I just hate being man-handled. Tell you what, buy me another beer while I go potty and maybe we can get to know each other a little. Think you can handle that, sport?”
She didn’t wait for his reply. Quickly, Drac grabbed the server and instructed her to bring him two of whatever she was drinking, pointing to the woman disappearing through the door of the ladies’ restroom.
The girl glanced toward her, then back to him, and a grin emerged. “Okay, pal, whatever you say… but I hope your insurance is paid up.” She continued to stare at him as she walked off.
Funny… I didn’t see that open table before… He’d no more than sat down than she re-appeared, but now she looked beautiful. Her deep-auburn hair swished about her shoulders and a beautiful bright red shade of lipstick embellished her thick, full lips. Standing there next to the table, she appeared to have lost twenty pounds and her hourglass shape revealed no perceivable flaws.
“Is this seat taken?” Her voice, barely above a whisper, permeated the ever-present din and dripped with honeydew. The expression she showed him—timeless, yet not a smile, exactly, certainly left the impression that all systems were, indeed, go.
Pointing at the beer, he stood and ushered her to the seat next to his, suddenly feeling his heart start to beat faster in anticipation of his prey.
Grabbing the bottle, she threw her head back and drank it quickly, opening her throat to the cool brew and allowing it to flow unrestrained. Now, her expression turned to a smile as she stroked the neck of the bottle with her mouth, then allowed her tongue to ring the opening in search of any final drops that might have escaped. “How about we blow this pop stand?” Her fingers’ touch, lightly and imploring, stirred him even more.
“I have a… a place… a mile or so outside town. Will that do?”
Before anything else could be said, the couple rushed out the side door, into the horse-drawn carriage pulled by two black horses.
The two sampled the glory of each other’s kisses as they rode. After a few minutes, the coach stopped and the pair gazed out into the inky blackness of the forest.
“Come on…” he suggested, “let’s step outside to finish this. I think there’s a meadow just off the road. It’d be a shame not to enjoy this to its ultimate degree.”
“Oh, yes…” she cooed, “ but I warn you, I can’t wait much longer.”
Drac and his lady tugged at the other’s clothes as they walked, finally falling onto the soft, moist grass, where she pushed him onto his back. Before he could react, her teeth found his neck and her eyes glowed with passion as she drained the blood from his carotid, emitting sounds unknown to humans.
In less than two minutes, she lay next to the corpse, sated, blood covering her face, neck and chest. Igor walked up to her and kneeled down. “Hello, boss… my name is Igor,” he said, touching her hand with his own, “will a pine coffin do, or do I need to find some other materials of construction?”
Bob Church©10/8/07