If you have to spend time locked in your apartment with a vampire, Lucy is probably the right choice. She drinks like a fish, loves pop culture references, makes fun of herself, makes fun of others, and doesn’t do any of the typical vampire shit, like try to use me as a chaser for her rum. We spent Sunday day sleeping, and then Sunday night drinking some more. Probably not smart for someone who might be ‘under threat’, but what the hell ever, I’m sure Lucy was just pretending to get drunk. Vamps don’t get drunk right? I didn’t ask.

It wasn’t until probably three am on Monday morning that I realized there had been a cop car outside on the street all day. One of those unmarked dark blue crown victorias. I had noticed it earlier in the night, and thought it was odd that someone was sitting in it on the street, but I’ve seen weirder cop things. From my loft I could barely see the person, so I didn’t think anything of it. Then around three I had gotten up from the couch to get another drink and just happened to glance outside. The uniformed cop was outside the car smoking. Rain coming down slightly on him and he was looking up at my window. When he noticed me in it he turned his gaze.

From then on out I kept looking and the car was still there, right outside the door to my building, every time I peeped out the window. Creepy cops. Maybe I’m being paranoid but could whoever Isabelle thinks is mad about the blog be tied into the cops?

It doesn’t really matter. By the time shit got weird Tuesday morning the cop was gone.. Just when I fucking needed him. Figures.

I’m not sure if I haven’t had the time to write, or I’ve been pretending I haven’t had the time to write because I’m not sure how to processes my life the last few days. Not that they have been exceptionally exciting. They were actually pretty boring. Which was a shock to me after the grand talk of Lucy the morning during the sun rise.

Lucy has no walls up. Which is rare for a vampire. Jesus and his ilk, those who spend time with us mere mortals, are always throwing up masks and walls. They are always working the angle on how to use you to better position themselves to get what they want. Which is usually blood or another resource to make sure they can secure more blood. Lucy on the other hand isn’t interested in that. Well she is, but she has some other motive that I haven’t figured out yet. Yes I know she’ll read this, so bitch, you better cough it up!

Saturday we ended up going back to my loft downtown. The city where I live is full of these lofts. Old factories and office buildings converted for ‘urban living’ to try to attract people back into the city after years of white flight. It has shown some success, especially for single people in my age group. I enjoy it, except when you hear the neighbors humping all night through the paper thin walls. Walls designed to give the illusion of privacy more than have solid construction techniques applied to them.

Turns out I wasn’t evicted. Under the door was an eviction notice but on top of that was an apology letter stating rent was paid up for the next six months. Guess I do get some kinda of kick back for doing this blog instead of just doing it ‘for the access no one has ever had to our kinda’, or whatever bullshit Isabelle said.

By the time we got their Lucy was looking like she had just ran a marathon but without the sweat. Her face was slowly trying to match the color of her hair and she spoke less and less, with each movement of her body being very precise and intentional. As we moved into my apartment and I start talking about how I needed a shower in a place that wasn’t covered in blood, I noticed her standing and just staring.

“Bullshit” I said

She looked at me with her eyes half dead, like someone who is sleep walking, or unable to wake up from a deep dream.

“The day does really fuck with you. You need a dark place to rest?”

“I haven’t eaten and can’t keep myself alert. Your closet will be fine.”

So I dumped out the contents of the bottom of my closet and made her a little bed, which she quickly fell into. I shut the door and took my shower.

For a moment I worried about having a vampire sleeping in my closet but only a moment. Lucy could of totally fucked me anytime she wanted, and was being vulnerable in front of me. She wasn’t here to kill me.

Sleep is good. Once I hit my sheets I didn’t get up again until way past dark. Which is late for this time of year. I woke up to pounding ran on my windows. It’s been a wet spring with lots of storms passing through but so far no tornadoes in the city. Just lots and lots of rain with lightning and thunder.

I got up, got dressed, noticed it was almost midnight and that my closet was open. At least I was right about her not murdering me. Instead I came out into the kitchen area to find her cooking me dinner in a sun dress, floral patterned and everything. Her normal demeanor restored to it’s smiling excited self.

“good, your awake. You know how hard it is the make food for someone after you haven’t had to cook for twenty years! I hope you like sketti cause it was the easiest thing to remember. I couldn’t recall if you ate meat so I kept the beef separate, and I didn’t make garlic bread but I made a garlic butter dip that you can dip this fresh french bread in. Do you like wine? I brought two bottles, a red and white…” etc etc. etc.

I stood there kinda amused. Freak, my inner cynic said. If she was human I’d accuse her of being on meth. Instead I sat down and let her serve me. I joined in her ramble a bit but mostly just let her talk about how she loved storms and how she liked to dress ‘counter weather’ which I think means that she dressed bright on stormy days and dark on sunny days. What was most fascinating about us eating is that it was US eating. She ate and drank with me as if she was human, even after stating that she hadn’t cooked in twenty years.

Then it hit me. Lucy and I were the same age. She looked twenty years younger than me but we could of been friends in high school, we had to be that close in age. Pretty sly move on Isabelles part. Fucking vampires always thinking of every little detail to make us mortals relax.

Finally I decided to get to business.

“so what we up to tonight?”

“Oh I thought we were staying in now that you are in your apartment and not in that hotel?”

“Shouldn’t we go looking for Jesus?”

“Nope, we did our part.”

“We showed up and asked a couple of questions and left, I wouldn’t call that looking.”

“yeppa, now Isabelle wants us to stay here or somewhere safe for a few days. I hope you don’t mind me being with you, she says there might be danger to you now that the blog is out there”

fucking vampires.

“so we are just suppose to sit back and watch reruns of BtVS on netflix while the whole vampire world continues on out there” I even dramatically pointed out the rain soaked window.

“well it is pretty wet out there.”

If Lucy wanted us to stay here I’m pretty sure there isn’t much I could do to change that. Even young vampires are terrifyingly more physically able than me.

“fine, how about you tell me what happened to you this morning. You did that dramatic sunrise crap and then turned into the walking dead on me by the time we got back here. I’m sure my readers would love to know what that was all about?”

She paused for a minute thinking. “I think one reason the paired us together is because I don’t know the answers. I haven’t had lifetimes to understand.”

“I kinda figured”

“All I know is that to stay out during the day I need to be well fed. It kinda goes into shut down to preserve energy. Once I stayed out until noon and could barely crawl back inside. My skin looked like those pictures of the deserts in California, all cracked, and in the cracks it looked like my body was starting to… It was gross. Then when night came I was a wreck. I’m surprised I didn’t kill anyone that night. It was hard not to I was so hungry. ”

“So why did you tell me the sunlight was no big deal?”

“Because it isn’t for all of us. For years I didn’t have that reaction. I could go about just like normal. Isabelle once told me that the more we act like monsters the more like monsters we become, although she said it better than that. I know crazy old ones that can sit at noon in a cafe drinking coffee and no one would know what they are.”

“Can I meet them?”

“… not right now?”

I shrugged. Whatever. I get it. we have to hole up until some not real storm blows over that might involve me getting in trouble for having this blog, and the one vampire I can get information from seems to know very little, or seems to think she does.

We spent the night watching Buffy. Mostly I think because I joked about it and Lucy is really really bad at picking out what to watch. I almost smacked her when she wouldn’t stop flipping shows.

The power flickered a few times from the storm but nothing major. Storms and this city go hand in hand, we are used to them, and they won’t hold us back from watching our shows!

I think Lucy and I can be friends. We headed out last night after I got cleaned up. As cleaned up as I can get after being in that room. Henry had brought me a change of clothing during the week so at least I wasn’t overly stink. The guy thought I was going through heroine detox or something, he didn’t want me to ‘Go sell my good clothing for crack’ as he put it, so he only brought me my worst jeans with rips in them and a t-shirt. Better than just my underwear I imagine. Anyways, we headed out and I didn’t even return the key to the front desk. Never going back to that shit hole again.

Lucy’s car is just about as crappy as mine. Mine being impounded from being left too long in a parking lot, so I’m not complaining about Lucy’s 1990’s Saab Turbo. The thing looks and sounds like it is about to fall apart, but it doesn’t. We got in and as soon as she turned on the car, Lou Reed’s Sweet Jane starts playing. Now I might give hipsters and vampires equal shit for their music tastes but I can’t fault someone for loving Lou. Immediately Lucy hit stop.

“Sorry, Forgot to switch the music to the Vampire Mix before you got in the car.” These words being said at the same time as she pulls out a CD labeled Vampire Mix and looks like she can barely not laugh, and I about choke because my body can’t get its laugh out fast enough.

Lucy and I can be friends. We ended up keeping the Lou Reed on. Vampire mix can happen some other time.

Although she almost ruined the night by driving us straight to Jesus’ house in midtown. It’s a nice enough bungalow built somewhere in the 20’s or 30’s, and Jesus has someone take care of the yard, but I hate how there are always a bunch of people there acting like he is the best thing since slice bread. It is literally walking into a modern day commune.

“Fuck this Lucy, I don’t want to see that fuck.”

“It’s OK, he isn’t here, but we need to be just for a minute.”

“You go if you need to, but I’m staying here.”

Then she fixes those eyes on me the way that vampires do when they are really serious about getting their way, and she says, “You should come inside with me, it isn’t safe out here.”

I look around midtown, my home town in a way and spit back at her “Fuck you, midtown is safer than that hotel I just lived in for a week.” Her face goes blank.

“I don’t fucking believe it.” You can probably imagine the way she leaned back into her door, her mouth kinda open in shock and disbelief. I thought she was just shocked that I told her to fuck off, like I said, vampires hate that.

“You better get used to it. I really don’t like you vamps thinking you are built to command people”.

“We are.” She says but before I can pop her with another F bomb she says “… but not you. I thought they were lying. Fuck it. I’m going in. Jesus hasn’t been seen since you last saw him, so I need to go inside and see if his people know anything. Stay here if you want.” She got out of the car and of course, I followed. I don’t know what she means by ‘not me’ but Jesus going missing, as much as I hate the little bastard, is a mystery I kinda need to solve. For twenty years he has been attached to growing his little culty world. He wouldn’t of just disappeared.

The minute I show up on the porch I’m spotted by one of his trollops. They know me since Jesus has been one of the only points of contact with Vampires I’ve had. His mistreatment of me I guess is ‘brought on’ every so often by my own actions of trying to get more information out of him.

I can’t remember this girls name so we will just call her Trollop One. She’s out the door hugging me and welcoming me and dragging me inside the house, where Lucy and I are immediately confronted with an almost threatening mob of dirty hippies. “Where is he? Have you seen him? What have you done to him?” etc etc. Their frantic questions seem a bit on the aggressive side until Lucy tells them all to sit down and relax and they do. Vampires are sometimes good, I guess.

Turns out I probably am the last person to see Jesus. At least amongst his friends. No one here knew much but Lucy told them that if they heard anything to give me a call, and handed out business cards to them. When did I get business cards? Isabelle is going to need to tell me a bit more about this new ‘job’ of mine.

We search the house but nothing is out of the ordinary. Other than the house is filled with people who live together and grow food in the back yard. Vampires don’t broadcast being vampires, and generally that means they don’t tend to leave out things that hint that they exist. If they tell someone, that person can be forced to forget. If they write it down, people can make copies.

The most interesting thing about searching a house I had pretty much only seen the front room of is that I didn’t get a chance to see where Jesus sleeps during the night. I brought it up with Lucy, who laughed, and pointed at his bed, “His bed”.

“Bullshit, there are windows in here.” and I went over to make sure there weren’t any black out curtains, or shutters. There weren’t. “See, no way the sun could be reliably kept out.”.

“Twenty years you have been dealing with us? You know that is longer than I’ve been one, and you don’t know anything.”

“Yeah you people are not very good at storytelling.”

She takes my hand, and I felt like I was being lured into a trap. Vampires taking your hand.. never a good thing. She took me back to her car and we started to drive. Lou Reeds Coney Island Baby playing. I caught her mouthing the words “wanna play football for the coach” just as I was.

Terrible idea thinking a vampire could be your friend. This is going to bite me in the ass.

We went to a Quik Trip and purchased some beer, then headed across the bottoms and the Kansas river to Kaw Point. Parks of course are closed that late at night, early in the morning, but what do we care, she’s a vampire and I’m quickly becoming a drunk. Kaw Point is a park at the point where the Kansas river meets the Missouri River. If you sit at the edge of the water you are facing east, looking at the city in the distance. We sat on those rocks where those rivers meet not saying a word.

I figured once that sun started coming up over those buildings we’d high tail it to her hidy hole. Yet the sky kept getting brighter and we just sat there, me drinking my beer and her just smiling. It was very pleasant. Yet my nerves started to act up. She had to get inside. Any moment those rays would come over those buildings making my eyes see one of the best views of a sunrise you can see in this city, but making her eyes and body burn.

“Lucy, stop this, we can go now, I’m not sure what you are trying to do, but OK.”

“I won’t burn.”

“Fuck you won’t.”

“Trust me.”

“It’s your funeral.” After all seeing her burn would be the first time I’d ever seen a vampire do that.

The sunlight hit the downtown buildings, illuminating them in color. Then it shown through where the streets are and hit the water of the rivers, reflecting a deep purple that slowly changed to orange and red. It would have been more stunning if the clouds wouldn’t have been so low in the sky, but the impact was still there.

Lucy didn’t burn. She didn’t change at all. She just looked at the sunrise and smiled. When she caught me staring at her she just smiled at me.

“What the fuck?”

“I could sit here all day.”

“What the fuck?”

“We don’t burn, Alex. Sometimes it is good that people believe the stereotypes you know. Just let them, it might come in handy. Besides we don’t come out during the day for other reasons, mostly energy conservation reasons. I think you’ll find that if it takes more energy to do something, we don’t tend to do it.”

“I think I need another drink”.

 

If a vampire comes into your room in the dark you can expect to not wake up at all, wake up having your blood drained out of you, or wake up with them trying to freak you out so they can have a leg up on whatever it is they are going to try to do next. There really isn’t any other reason for it. I’d probably die of a heart attack if they just wanted to say hello and didn’t knock because they forgot how. A good rule of thumb is, if you wake up and you are not in pain, you don’t have to panic… yet.

Which is why when I opened my eyes earlier tonight to see the outline of Lucy’s fuzzy mop in front of the TV (crouched at the end of my bed like an animal watching me sleep) I wasn’t phased. Then again it is hard to be phased when you have very little strength left from a week of expelling your insides into a toilet. I was mildly annoyed that she interrupted my sleep. I just laid there and stared at her until she threw her hands up in the air and said “What the fuck!”

“The scare people by sneaking into their room trick is very 1995,” I said. “Get the lights.” As she was moving over to light switch I continued “Next time try something like licking my nipples, that would freak me out.” 

By the time the lights were on I was sitting up in bed and got a good look at my leather pant wearing peeping Tom. Sure enough she looked like she had last night. All retro goth and Dracula inspired. Yet I have to admit she did wear it well.

“I’m Alex, but I’m thinking you know that.”

“Yep a do, Alex.” she mumbled swinging her hands from back to front clapping them as she paced around the room. Not moving slow means a vampire is either new, or pretending to be new. I’m not sure why, I think it has something to do with energy to animation ratio. They never explain anything to me.

I just looked at her as she cased the joint, her nostrils flaring as see smelled the rankness of the place. “It really works.” she said, kicking a beer can out of the way.

“For me. I hear it only works for some people, and only if you start it within a few hours of being murdered.”

She laughed, “Murdered! I begged to be ‘murdered’.” She did the air quotes around murdered and I wasn’t annoyed, she was kinda cute doing it. At this point she started to remind me of Karen Gillan more than Lucy but I decided to keep calling her Lucy.

“So Lucy, I know you won’t tell me your real name so I’m just going to call you Lucy, what the fuck do you want. I was sleeping for once this week and you just messed that right up”.

“Isabelle says for you to write about last week, that night with Jesus. She says do it right now, and then when you are done, I’m to take you out and show you a good time. She said I’m to be your cicerone, which I think she means tour guide.”

“We going out for ice cream?”

“Although that sounds awesome, nope. No iced cream for you dear blogger. You need things to blog about and I’m going to point you in the right direction. Not just any old direction.” She sat at the side of my bed for this line, as if what she was about to say was so important that she had to look at me directly. “I’m going to show you everything you have been trying to learn ever since you met Jesus.” I could tell by the look in her eyes she expected me to be thrilled.

Which I am, don’t get me wrong, but now I’m starting to understand something else. Vampires don’t have good will like this. They don’t say.. hey you spent twenty years dealing with our rejects so we are going to reward you by letting you see all our inner workings. This was more than just some old vampires whim. This was some kinda game.

“Alright, give me my laptop.” I said to her. Which she did, and I’ve been typing this ever since.

Now as she sits here next to me, smelling me…

“Do you have to smell me like that? I mean your nose is all flared out.”

“I like to smell. When I was alive I didn’t realize how great it was.”

“That is kinda freaky.”

Anyways. Here is what you get to know about what happened, Isabelle.

Jesus is a jealous dickhead that can’t take that I do not want to be his bitch or any one of your bitches. This time around he was waiting in my apartment for me after I got back from work. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in a long time. His body was all bones. His tongue must of been so shriveled that he couldn’t speak because I told him to ‘get the fuck out’ and all he did was make this rasping noise as he attacked me.

No one is as strong as a vampire, even a starving one. Whatever evolutionary, magical, or god like thing made them really said, F you to the human race.

When I woke up this time I had to call Suzanne but she is pretty damn fast when I’m in need. The only other odd thing about that morning. All the windows and doors of my place were open. I remember lying there in pain thinking how grateful I was about the breeze.

There. Now off to see what Lucy has planned.

I’m tired. I’m dehydrated. I’m ready to get out of this hotel room. It stinks like a waste treatment plant. There is blood and shit in places I didn’t expect it to be. I won’t feel clean until I shower at my apartment. That is if my landlord hasn’t kicked me out yet. I’m late on rent, and Henry says I might lose my job. My actual job.

I’m pretty sure the worst of my week is coming to an end.

Last night was pretty uneventful. I saw Lucy Westenra outside the window of the hotel room. Normally seeing anyone outside a hotel room for me is rare since I shut the black out curtains, but in cheap places like this, they never shut all the way. The gap in this room is grand canyon sized. I was sitting on the bed eating some pizza and drinking vamp-be-gone when I glanced over and there she was peeking in the curtains.

I’m talking Lucy Westenra from the 1992 film Dracula by Francis Ford Coppola. Average looking girl made gorgeous by her wavy red hair and twinkling smile. She didn’t look exactly like her, I’m sure it just popped into my head because of that mop of crimson sitting above her face. Either way she was there staring at me, a cute button smile, tight The Cure t-shirt ripped down the front revealing her cleavage. Who the hell listens to The Cure now a days anyway?

I couldn’t ask her that because I blinked and she was gone. Good ol’ Lucy. I hope she comes back, new vampires are always fun to meet, all posing and dominance themed. The real question is what has Isabelle been doing to let others know about me? Surely this blog is a threat to them somehow.

Fuck it I’m going back to sleep.

I received an email tonight from editor@thevampirejournal.com Kinda creeped me out. I didn’t even know that anyone else was monitoring this site. I’m not overly shocked by that in and of itself. I’m more freaked about the content of the email. I quote:

“There is something you do that is, I’m sorry to say, a bit of nails on chalkboard for my inner grammar Nazi. It’s “of” – should of, would of, might of, all should be have“

Then they continued on by giving me suggestions on how to rewrite!

“I quickly decided that he wasn’t on PCP, but I was when he stood over me smiling that shit eating vampire grin that he has. Fangs out, Laughing. Then he said “I’m not going to give you the choice that I had”. All I could think about as he bit the hell out of me was that this monster, this vampire was misquoting vampire movies. Seriously. I’m fucking doomed to idiot monsters that are so high on being what they are that they regurgitated Hollywood.”…but that I was…
…that shit-eating vampire grin that he has; all fangs-out, laughing silently….this monster, this vampire, was misquoting vampires movies. (paragraph break)And whatever descriptors you like.

Great, now I not only get to be around vampires all the time, I probably have to deal with a vampire editor! Maybe I’ll learn something, or maybe I’ll tell them to just deal with my white trash upbringing.

I met Jesus years ago. My first year in college. I was looking for off the wall people for an art project I was doing and my roommate knew this group called the Nocturnia’s or Noctornians or something cheesy like that. They were a group of people who considered themselves vampires and were part of a subculture of goth subcultures. Since I couldn’t find any other people to work with I decided to go check them out.

Essentially it was this coffee drinking club that met at the Broadway Coffee House every week. They liked the walled off court yard where they could sit out in the darkness and say things like “The night speaks to me…. shhhh.. can you hear it?” (or maybe that is just a line from Near Dark). I’m not shitting you on that by the way. They really did speak like that. Especially if there was a new girl in the mix. Which makes sense since, most of them thought they were vampires.

When I pointed out that they were just rehashing old genre troupes about vampires that they gleamed from films and fiction they about threw me out on my ass. It was Jesus who told them to cool their jets and that I just didn’t understand. He invited me to hang out more with them and encouraged me to take the photos I needed for my project.

Back then he wasn’t a leader, he was just another guy hanging out in the ‘wear all black and eyeliner club’. He still had his shoulder length brown wavy hair and wore his Thors hammer pendant over the top of the chest hair that liked to peak up from his shirt. Total early 90s guru look, if the guru was wearing clothing that Hot Topic would be selling now.

Over the course of making the images I needed for my college project, I got to know the group pretty well. I’m not going to spend the time today writing up a theoretical talk about if “living vampires” are real. I’m going to leave you with this wiki link about the Vampire Lifestyle and then you can rabbit hole yourself to death researching it if you want (like this site here that is more directly related to the culture, Sanguinarius.org). 

*The above website link no longer works. It appears the founder of the site passed away in 2015 and soon after the site went down.

I find it interesting that not more websites are devoted to this niche culture, after all it was college bbs’s that really got people together. The N’s met because of that. Jesus did also, although he wasn’t looking for a community more than a vampire friendly food source. Which is why he wasn’t the leader of the group. It suited his purpose to just push them into more and more blood sharing. Making it look like it wasn’t him doing it. If I had been a member of that group I might of been so wrapped up in the culture of it that I could of missed it. Instead I was an outside observer and I watched as his control from the sidelines became absolute and then I called him out on it. In front of everyone.

Probably not the right thing to do in. Directly asking why he was taking in so much blood but never sharing his. I had pictures and pictures in my archive for the project of this trend. They turned on me, banning me from the group.

Bitches.

It turns out that by outing him I actually did him a favor. I ran into him a few years later, still in the black, still with the group but they didn’t have some shitty name anymore. They presented as any social group of friends would, just friends. He invited me back with his sexy smile and that direct eye contact that vampires have. I told him to fuck off and then something changed in him. He became obsessed with me.

“No one tells me to Fuck off.” he would say. So I’d tell him to fuck off again. Vampires can’t take no for an answer because they think they can bend everyone to their all mighty willpower. I didn’t know that then, I just thought he was being a dick, since I hadn’t realized he was not just a crazy person.

Let me be straight, those people who he was friends with, they were not really crazy even if they believed, or felt that they were a certain type of vampire. Eccentric is a good word, but not crazy. Jesus on the other hand was manipulative and socially controlling until he didn’t get his way, then he became obsessive. I had no clue at the time that actual vampires existed and I don’t think his group did either.

He started showing up at my work, at my house. Sometimes he’d be friendly, sometimes he’d be his true dickhead self. Then one night the he broke into my home and took me. Literally took me by force. Shoved me in the trunk of his car and drove me to Cliff Drive.

If you have never been to Cliff Drive before it’s this long rundown area of the city that used to be a glamorous park. Now it is an overgrown area where you can dump anything you would rather not see around. Every attempt to clean it tends to fail. When I was pulled from the trunk of the car by my fucking hair, the only thing I knew was that I saw trees above me. When he threw me on the ground I landed on broken glass, leaves, and a tire. That tire probably saved my life because he threw me so hard. I was like a child to him.

I quickly decided that he wasn’t on PCP, when he stood over me smiling that shit eating vampire grin that he has. Fangs out, Laughing. Then he said “I’m not going to give you the choice that I had”. All I could think about as he bit the hell out of me was that this monster, this vampire was misquoting vampire movies.

I’m fucking doomed to idiot monsters that are so high on being what they are that they regurgitated Hollywood.

I don’t remember much after that until the morning. He was gone, I was puking up the contents of my stomach as someone drug me up the hill. She stopped when she noticed I was awake and tried to give me some water. Instead she got a full face of bloody vomit.

That’s how I met Suzanne. She saved me from being turned into what Jesus wanted.

I’m fucking tired from being up all night, so I’m going to hit the sack. Maybe I’ll find time in the future to tell you how that all worked out. Obviously, I wasn’t turned into a vampire but at that point I knew they were real.

It set the course for my life for the next twenty years (give or take a few).

Vampires. Pieces of shit. all of them.

This motel has Cable TV. It doesn’t even have clean sheets and it has cable. Seriously, the priorities of life are sometimes confusing to me. Then again, everything is confusing when you are having the week I’m having. I bet it is easier to keep the cable bill paid in this neighborhood than it is to find good cleaning crews. I’ve been watching a metric ton of AMC. That channel knows where it is at.

Isabelle showed up again and wanted to know about the circumstances leading up to my current involvement with the porcelain god. “Not much to say,” I tell her and she doesn’t move. Just stares at me like she is trying to read my mind, her eyes not really blank, and not really power drills, but somewhere in the middle. Trance like. Instead of thinking inwardly it is like she is thinking in my head, or trying to. Which is when I noticed the TV directly behind he. There is Betty Draper.. Francis.. Sitting on her bed talking on the phone to Don. She is dying, lung cancer. Don is all busted up and Betty is all being Betty. Isabelle is just being Isabelle but I can’t help but notice that my reference last time about the 60s house wife is very much true. Isabelle and Betty could be the same person if Isabelle had any idea what it was like to be human. So far she hasn’t showed any sign of it. I wonder if vampires can get sick. Vamp cancer would probably be something bloody and terrible.

She blinks. Which draws me back to her. She hardly ever blinks. “Will you write about it?” She asks.

“Maybe,” I shrug just as I double over in pain from the flow of my insides into the outside world. She doesn’t flinch even with the stink, which must be overpowering for her senses. When it passes I continue.

“Not much to tell, just like last time, Jesus tried to turn me or whatever you call it.” His real name isn’t Jesus, I just call him that because the dude loves to pretend he is gods gift to humans. I’m not using anyone’s real name on this blog. It’s one of the ‘rules’. Besides I bet none of them are using their real names either. I met one the other day who was calling herself… shit. Can’t joke about their names if I can’t use them. Fucking vampires. “What do you call it any way? The embrace, turning, becoming, fucking, rising again?” I make this spooky horror movie noise and raise my hands above my head, which sends me into another spasm. I should not of had Henry bring me Taco Bell, tonight is going to be hard.

“We don’t.” She says. “Does he find it funny to try to wrap you in our power?” I’m too doubled over in pain to reply for a minute. Not even to point out that she is stretching to not use a word in the list I just used. She tilts her head to the other side like she is examining me.

“He must, he laughs the whole time he is doing it. You think he’ll stop now that I’m your… whatever I am?”

“Journalist.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. I’m a photojournalist, or wanted to be once, but failed at that. Besides this blog can’t have pictures, it’s a rule.

Then she turns and leaves. I yell after her, “Who picked the fucking name of the site.. it’s shit you know that. Should of named it Shitting Blood!”

She probably heard me. Super vamp powers are cool like that from what I hear.

At least the end of Mad Men was kinda happy. I hope I have my ‘om’ moment sometime. Probably not.

I guess this blog is official now. Isabelle brought me a laptop. She said I needed it since, “You are regulated by necessity to the commode at the current moment.” Everything was all set up and booked marked in the browser. If she set this up I completely underestimated the skeksis. I doubt it. Her clothing is way out of fashion. Sometimes when she is standing there looking at me, her bird like head half tilted, her body not moving, skin tight on her bones, pale, waxy, I think she is the corpse of a 1960s house wife. I say “sometimes” because on some nights she is flush and hot, her polyester knee length skirt tight against hips. Hips built to be the dream makers of late night films everywhere. Fucking vampires.

I guess you’ll have to get used to me saying fucking vampires also. Yeah, and writing like a someone who failed English class four times. Cause that’s what you got here. Maybe I’ll hire an editor if my boss allows me. Ha!

They even bought the domain name. Weird ass creatures. They have to be fucking with me. This is what I have been wanting to do for years and they finally let me do it. I’m fine with their shitty rules about their privacy but a domain like that? What is this a CW show? Some shitty movie from the 90s? Whatever at least they told me they’d not censor me as long as I stuck to ‘the rules’. Fuckers.

Anyways the refrigerator in this dump is on the fritz and I just convinced myself the ‘vamp be gone’ was cold enough to drink. I better get my ass to the bathroom.