Die Here Often?

Posted: June 25, 2014 by writingsprint in Fantasy
Tags: , , , ,

sexy vampireBeth was thirsty. She hadn’t had the taste of a good, healthy human in a while. Contrary to popular myth, most vampires didn’t find their donors in bars or mug them from alleys. Beth liked supermarkets. She walked up and down the aisles of the IGA, letting the smells of the customers fill her. There were two other vampires here already – she wondered if the other customers knew.

People tasted like the food they ate, with an aftertaste of how good or evil their souls were. Pam liked healthy people, mostly good, with a little tarnish on the halo.

Someone smelled really good in the bread aisle. Beth sniffed. She smelled fruit, veggies, and skinless chicken. Also the rare bar of chocolate. A little wine would’ve been ideal, but this was good for tonight. A young man in jeans and a T-shirt was reading the label on a loaf of multigrain bread. She smelled candles on him, too. Sandalwood.

“Are you some kind of hippie health Nazi?” she asked.

He slapped down the bread and spun to face her. “What?” he asked. He froze.

Beth smiled. “You’re smart. Most people don’t catch on that fast.”

“Fair skin. Stillness. Ballsy — excuse me — I mean, aggressive. You’re a vampire.”

“That’s all right. I know I’ve got bigger stones than you. So, are you or aren’t you?”

“No. Why? ”

“Just curious. You don’t smell like beer or junk food like most guys. You’re not skinny enough to be a vegetarian.”

“I do yoga.”

“That’s it.” Beth smiled. She didn’t show her fangs. “What’s your name?”

“Gabe.” He reached out his hand.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll bite, Gabe?”

“I think if you wanted to hurt me we wouldn’t be talking.”

Beth nodded. “Smart.” She looked at his hand. “I’ll pass. So here’s the deal, Gabe. I’m thirsty, and I’m not in the mood for the synthetic crap. Interested?”

“I… I want to say no… but…”

A virgin donor. Virgins always tasted better. Beth wanted to snap this guy up before one of the other vampires did. “I don’t have time to mess around. It feels better than you’ve heard. Depending on the blood vessel,” she looked below his belt, then back up, “it can blow your mind.”

Gabe stood up straighter. Quietly, he said, “I’m no blood slave.”

“I’ll be gentle, then.”

“Only if we go to my apartment.”

“What? Are you afraid I’ll kill you?”

Gabe gulped. “Yes.” He looked around. The aisle was completely empty. Conversations like this had a way of sending people to the corners of the building, even if they couldn’t hear what you were talking about.

Beth purred, “Don’t worry, Gabe. I’ve been doing this for two hundred years. I haven’t killed anyone by accident since the year I was made.”

Gabe’s voice shook. “All the same… I’d feel more comfortable at my place.”

Beth hissed, “Then we can’t fuck when we’re done. I fry at dawn, remember?”


Beth sighed. She wanted to tell him he’d blown it, but it was getting late. He would taste really, really good, too. Fine…. “Just a drink, then. Can’t have you leaving a window open and burning me in my sleep by mistake.”

Photo credit: Julija Mazhora at Flickr
Photo is unmodified
Shared under Creative Commons license

  1. A.D. Everard says:

    😀 I guess it pays to be careful!


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