Wednesday, May 6, 2015

A GUILTY VAMPIRE SHARES TALES ... 5/7/15

I had a vision.... was supposed to 'cull' a rather nasty piece of work... Dealt drugs. Ran sex parlors masquerading as less blatant massage parlors staffed with pathetic, Thai and Cambodian sex slaves. Cornflakes and tuna fish... Cornflakes and tuna fish... That's all he feeds them, cornflakes and tuna fish. And they think it's gold. Sure they get milk for the cereal and mayonnaise for the tuna... sometimes a loaf of dollar white bread from the ShopRite, but that doesn't make it gold.

Well, tonight he died. But I waited til he strong armed a guy out of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars and a Maserati... Then I killed him. Figured I'd feed the kitty. Does that make me bad? I freed the sex slaves. Gave each one twenty five hundred dollars. Figured they could fly home. Only (for them) home was even worse than here. So I don't know where they went. Probably Atlantic City.

Yo, sex slaves, you just got liberated! What are you gonna do next!?..... We go 'Lantic City!...... Only in America. Actually, I don't think they even spoke English.....

The guy had a nice watch. Took that too. You know, besides the townhouse, we support the elferinas and elferinos too, plus a few people you don't know about. 

I don't want to go home. Sarah knows about Sylvia and Aura. I know how she'll be. She'll act like it's not important... just 'stimulation'... nothing to do with her and I... But she makes me feel so guilty. why would she even notice what I do with mortals? They're all going to be dead soon anyway. Like clouds, they are. Here one moment and gone the next. Even their bones decay. Naturally occurring preserved skeletons are rare. Most coffins, even the metal ones, oxidize and disappear after sixty years... surviving bone fragments go soon after. There's your mortals. That's what happens to mortals. Why would she even notice?.... But she does. Oh, God, why do I do this?

Maybe I'll stay at The University of Pennsylvania Museum. They know me there. Management hates me from the big Luna versus Sarah cat fight a few years back. Mummy dust flew like confetti. Another romantic fiasco that was. But the watchmen like me. I'll tell them stories... point out ghosts... sublimate through walls for them... sing bawdy Dutch tavern songs... Take my mind off things. 

Still, not a bad haul. Maybe she'll like the Maserati? Baylah can arrange a sale if she doesn't. You see Maserati coming and going down the shore..

Oh look... There's that shoe store I like. Excuse me while I sublimate inside and pick up a pair of black, leather ankle boots. Don't worry. I'll leave money....

Buenos noches, amigos.....

(with that, the trim 'young' vampirino, known as Jonathon, or Tomas, melts through the old, bronze doorway and disappears into the shop... Bienvenido a filadelfia after midnight... And remember... We only pretend that it's fiction...)

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1 comment:

Antonio Westleyw said...

Even though this ain't my sort of thing, I gotta say this chapter reminded me of Sons Of Anarchy, where you trying compliment that element here or is this bad ass nature usually apart of what I deemed as colorful reading?