The Vampire and The Desk

Is it still in fashion? Where would I keep it? It's two hundred years old at this point, older than my daughter. A thick layer of dust and a single slash through the aged but sturdy cardboard from the last time I pulled it out. A large mahogany desk from back when I was going to setup a painting studio, and I know how that went. The stone walls were covered in black mold and oozing green. No one came down to this place in forever, except for that one brave adventurer I locked down here and forgot about. His skeleton casually lying in a corner. A beer and a book would make him more aesthetic. The roof was dripping, and the small window slits provided a nice breeze from the moonlit night. Truly a wonderful place to setup a painting studio, I spent countless hours thinking about it. Ended up burning up the local town instead; better to paint the world red than paper. Human skin is a more interesting canvas. Yet still, I feel bad for having had this desk for so long and it still not being built.

At most, it will cost me thirty or forty minutes. Less than a raindrop of the thousand years of terror I have decimated this land with In a castle built of the bones and blood of my victims, I had a blood refinery in the cellar that would make any other vampire weep. A conqueror of lands, a raiser of hell, the devil's favorite son, stumped by a desk. Well, let's at least have a look.

After pulling out the hardware and heavy wooden boards, it was still a very pretty desk. It smelled of mildew and a bit of mold, but there was no sign of termites or damage. It would look better put together. I can do this: breathe in and breathe out. It's a simple task. Just build the damn desk; it will be easier than when I raised a pack of werewolves to blend in with humans and trick them into starting a village at the base of my castle. Although a fresh, red cup of Joe does sound good right about now. I can stop by real fast, and then I'll have the energy to work on the desk.

It was a cool night out, with the wind chilling my wings. I didn't have the best sight in my bat state, but the festive sounds coming from the town meant I picked a good time. Cheers and hoorays for the fifteenth birthday of some larval child. Sweet music, with a steady beat matching their hearts. Bright red and orange ribbons hung from branch to branch, brightly colored lanterns strung up. An enormous display of all sorts of meats, cheeses, and tropical fruit not native to the area. In the middle was a big boiling pot of cheese with several metal sticks that partygoers seemed to be sharing, unsanitary. Cups of assorted alcoholic drinks sat around, and a few young boys were reprimanded for finding some and sneaking a taste. I needed to pick the perfect one. This one is plump and practically overflowing; she wouldn't mind losing a pound or two of blood weight. Always so high in sugar, though, and I don't really want a sugar high as much as a caffeine rush. That one with the nimble fingers is a known gamer living off of nacho-flavored chips and energy drinks. High chance of death, but they wouldn't really mind; they would be more appreciative than anything. A rare sight to see one outside as well, she's perfect.

"It's a lovely night out, isn't it? Just look at that full moon."

"What? Who are you?"

Dipping her down, holding her by the waist, the blood sho from her neck to my tongue. Flavorful nectar and slightly spicy, I couldn't get enough, and in no time she was drained. A little over indulgence never hurt anyone. Collapsed to the floor to the horror of the others staring at me in the middle of their party. The music came to an abrupt stop, and all eyes were on me. Play it cool. Dancing stopped, but the drinking increased. The panic in their eyes solidified, and a large man stared daggers, mouth agape, unsure if he wanted to strike or was too afraid. The caffeine felt great rushing into my veins; perhaps I should mix some energy drinks into a cask at the refinery. Fortunately, there was a case of drinks on the table.

Grabbing the case and giving a final look over the quiet crowd, expecting a word from their great, benevolent lord, "He's just standing there...menacingly!" I took flight once more with a laugh; the case was rather heavy for my small, transformed bat stature. Still, I was able to fly it back to the castle with relative ease.

A smooth exit, and I was gone, no one the wiser. The cheers resumed, although a bit more like angry shouts, cries of pain, and screams of panic. Someone must have called the cops to shut down the party. Who has a party on a Wednesday anyway? Don't they know some people have jobs and have to wake up early? Humans are always so disrespectful. Filthy creatures, filthy but tasty. I wish that little gamer girl had just a bit more juice. Too tasty to be thirst quenching, but I have this case, and now I'll be able to recreate it.

Loud churning and the smell of iron filled the air as my minions carefully measured out different sorts of ingredients and experimented with all sorts of new ideas. The dead could be quite clever. Some of their best work was done after death, most of it unaccomplished due to the burden of living. When you're dead, you don't have to worry about capitalism anymore; the fear of death no longer holds weight. Now that they fear the enteral fires of doom, I can subject them to them too. Simple tyranny without the extra steps. Which reminds me, these guys need a new moisturizer. Their skin was peeling and flaking too fast, some becoming nothing more than festering muscle. It was the green-blue hue to their skin that gave them the cuddly look I liked.

"Strank, have you sourced a better moisturizer yet?"

He gurgled noises back at me from over the top of his laptop. Hundreds of tabs of Shae Butter reviews and a list of drop-shippers to avoid It was a delicate balance to find an honest, non-sponsored review in the beauty industry. A land of snake oil, filled with a not-so-surprising sea of snakes. Maybe I should go into that field; I could do a lot of good for a lot of overly self-conscious teens.

The cans popped and fizzled as the oddly yellow liquid poured into a currently churning batch of blood. Marking it and letting the minions know to start on a fresh batch of original and to set this one aside for tomorrow morning. A loud banging from the castle gates, peering through the darkness with my third eye to see the large man from the party apparently upset by something. I commanded security to let him through telepathically as I went to the security room to watch him swing his whip wildly at the monsters down below and, for whatever odd reason, the candelabrums that illuminated the halls. Perhaps humans had allergies to them; a surprising number of them were hell-bent on destroying the only thing keeping them from the dark.

Maybe we should fill them with things. Coins, crucifixes, plates of chicken. Not all of them, but enough to give them a nice surprise when they break the right one and a little bit more of a chance of getting through the castle, not a single one ever made it past the first floor. They normally die to a jump they could just almost make; I would fix it to not be so precise, but if they aren't athletic enough for that, they couldn't get past the first guardian. This man suffered a similar fate to many that came before him, falling into an endless pit. Another question that arose was why they didn't simply walk around it. Maybe the waterfall was too attractive to ignore. Didn't even make it a fourth of the way, bad show.

Time had been flying, and it was soon to be dinner. The man attacking the castle, although unsuccessful, was slow and killed a lot more than I had thought. The minions would be getting grumpy soon if not provided with adequate gruel. They frenzied around the trough in a violent yet delicate dance. Like a mosh pit with proper etiquette. No crowd killing, and if someone falls, you pick them up with a handful of gruel delivered to their face hole.

The conversation ran its normal course, going over the events of the day. The lower-level minions laughed about the poor attempt of the man seeking vengeance. A few had tried out some of the new moisturizer. An old wing of the castle was getting a much-needed renovation. They were looking into doing some demolition, which I was fine with approving; they are skilled artisans, so I had nothing to worry about. Talk moved to the new Skelly Skelemance movie, which was showing in the theater a little after dinner. This was a rom-com that I was instantly interested in; it had been a while since I had felt loved, and I could use some, even if only vicariously through a film screen.

The overly buttered popcorn may have cost a few fresh body parts, but it was well worth it. Besides, the parts would be donated to the most needy in the castle, so I knew it was going to a good place; they do great work and deserve it. The aisles were clean from the last showing, ignoring some stray fallen popcorn here and there. The devils refused to leave the place. It made the small theater feel more like a social hub for the castle. Many offered me a seat next to them, reminding me I needed to schedule more family activities for my hard workers; perhaps a pizza party would make up for all the extra work these past few months.

The movie commanded laughs and awe from everyone. It followed a zombie who fell in love with a human; he took her to his airplane to keep her safe. Cozy and heartwarming, about a third of the way through, inspiration struck, and I had to retreat from the theater. Although I wanted to finish the movie, something had been nagging at the back of my mind. I quickly made my way back to the study and broke out the old laptop. I wasn't sure if it was old the minions said it was top of the line, I was old. Too old-school for this new age tech, I appreciated it though.

Opening a new document my fingers danced across the keys with such poetics it brought a smile to my face. An outline, but not just an outline, the outline. A novella about an undead man finding a living woman and falling madly in love. So much so that he began turning back into a normal human, the more time they spent together the more humanity was restored. And with that I could close my mind and rest before the sun rose.

Retreating to my coffin thinking of the busy day I had and all that I would accomplish tomorrow. Still there was something at the back of my mind, something I was unaware of. A beautiful mahogany desk sat in one of the dungeons near my chambers outside its box just visible from the open door, unassembled. I'll get to it in another decade or so; it can wait.