A Date with a "Vampire"

His driver’s license said that his name was Kevin, his social media accounts said that his name was Vladimir, and he looked like his name should’ve been Chase. With his silver nose ring clinging to his left nostril, his platinum blonde braid stretching down to the center of his back, and that blood-red leather jacket that he wore with just about everything, there was this cool and dangerous vibe that he gave off. Even those who claimed that he wasn’t their type couldn’t help but DM him. Maybe it was the muscles, or maybe it was that lovely set of icy blue eyes. Whatever it was, something about him made hearts fall like dominos. Even though his driver’s license stated that he was thirty-three, he claimed on his many social media accounts that he was a vampire who was born and then reborn in the 17th century. His commitment to this claim was enough to score him a date with a particular lady he found on Instagram.

Her name was Jessica, she went by Jess, and she looked like her name should’ve been Samantha. She always dressed like the preppy good girl in a teen drama, her brown curls often flowed down like a river, and she looked nineteen rather than twenty-three. Why this goody two shoes would go out of her way to go on a date with a self-proclaimed vampire was anyone’s guess. Yes, Vladimir had dated girls like her before, but this was still odd given her innocent nature and her strict dating rules:

1.) Don’t date anyone you meet on a dating app.

2.) You have to socialize with someone for at least a week or two before going on a date with them.

3.) Never wear anything revealing on a first date.

Although Jess didn’t meet Vladimir on a dating app, she did meet him online, and she only chatted with him for a few hours before agreeing to go on a date with him. To be fair, he asked her three times before she finally said yes. Then again, why would she break her own rule and not bother to wait a week? Was it some vampire magic that got a hold of her through her laptop? Was she somehow hypnotized by his sexy posts? Was it the moment when he said “your beauty could put the moon to shame”? Whatever it was, it was enough for her to throw all but one of her rules out the window.

The one rule that Jess stuck to was the third one: “Never wear anything revealing on a first date”. Her white blouse stretched to the top of her neck, hiding it completely. A rich purple dress covered her petite body down to her knees, which were adorned with white stockings. Completing the look were some black heels, a purple hair ribbon that pulled her hair up in a curly ponytail, a bright red handbag, and some gold earrings. A tiny Victorian doll glided through the dark neighborhood that was nicely lit under a full moon, and she soon reached a small, gothic-looking house. Her delicate hand gently knocked on the red door.

The so-called “immortal lover” answered the door, wearing the red jacket that he would only take off over his dead body. He eyed down the little doll and smiled with a fierce look of hunger in his eyes.

“Good evening, Jessica,” he gently growled.

“Good evening, Vladimir, but please call me Jess,” she said in a melodious voice, clutching onto her handbag.

“Welcome to my home, Jess.”

The handsome figure led Jess into a room with red walls that was lit only by candles. It was your typical gothic living room with its black velvet loveseat, black bookshelf stocked with vintage copies of classic literature, silver candlestick holders, and a bunch of miscellaneous items ranging from skulls to stuffed ravens. A table decorated with a red tablecloth was set up nearby with yet another candle set on top of it. Jess stuck out like a sore thumb in this scene.

“Make yourself at home,” the host said to his guest. “Feel free to set your stuff down and explore.”

Jess set her bag down on the loveseat and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought some Merlot,” she said in that beautiful voice of hers.

“No, I don’t mind at all,” he said as he took the bottle. “You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who drinks wine.”

“What do I strike you as?”

“You strike me as a bookworm with a dark academia aesthetic who sips tea with a cat on her lap.”

“You’re not entirely wrong. I do sip tea while reading classic literature, but I actually own a bird that sings to me as I escape to fictional worlds.”

“You sound just as classy as you did in your DMs. Good to know that I’m actually getting what I asked for. Feel free to look around as I finish up over here. Don’t hesitate to go through my bookshelf.”

Not sure why he would encourage her to read when they were just about to have dinner, but the little doll’s heart fluttered as she stroked the spines of the book and noticed titles like Camilla, Dracula, and The Most Dangerous Game. Not surprised that someone like Vladimir would have some classic vampire literature for entertainment, but that last one seemed a little odd to Jess. She also noticed copies of The Devil in the White City and American Psycho, which were brand new. Did he read those books solely for entertainment or inspiration?

“Are you into serial killers?” Jess asked. “You have quite the collection of books about them.”

“Why yes, I am,” Vladimir replied as he poured some of the Merlot into a couple of wine glasses. “After all, I am a vampire, and vampires must hunt. I think it’s interesting how you humans hunt compared to how my kind hunts.”

“How so?”

“Vampires are far more alluring. They tend to be a bit more polite to their prey before digging in, while humans either overthink or don’t think at all. No offense, but you humans are so foolish. Now, I hope you don’t mind if I play some music.”

And with that, the handsome host played some classical music for his dark academic date. The violins played with their strings rather violently as Jess was handed a glass.

“Isn’t it a bit too loud for your neighbors?” she asked as she accepted her glass.

“Better for them to suffer from the loud music than suffer from the noises that we’ll soon be making. Here’s to a promising evening.”

The two would-be lovers smiled, raised their glasses as if to toast each other, and took a sip. The doll’s smile stretched across her face as the “vampire” spat out his drink. The violins masked his coughing as he threw down his glass. “Wine” and shards of glass danced across the floor as Jess turned up the music to drown out the upcoming noise.

“Turn that down!” Vladimir yelled as he foolishly charged at his would-be prey. Although he managed to get his hands around the doll’s tiny throat, she tore them right off of her, tearing up the neck of her blouse in the process. Her tiny hand grabbed his arm that should’ve given him an advantage and twisted it with incredible and unlikely force, causing one end of his broken bone to pop out. The violins were loud enough to drown out his cries of pain, and he fell right on the broken glass after losing his balance.

What’s the matter? I thought you loved the taste of blood. By the way, I could taste the special ingredient that you’ve placed in my glass. Unfortunately for you, no drug has affected me for years.

Vladimir was rightfully confused. That voice sounded just like Jess’s, but her lips weren’t moving at all. How come he could hear her voice?

If you were truthfully a vampire as you claim to be, then you wouldn’t be so surprised right now. We have different forms of communication. I knew you weren’t a vampire the minute I saw that garbage attached to your nose.

This force of nature didn’t hesitate to rip the silver nose ring right off of the imposter’s face, turning him into a screaming and bleeding faucet. His guest quickly dropped the ring with a hiss and kissed her fingers in pain. After collecting herself, she reached up to her gold earrings to show them off.

Everyone knows that gold is the way to go, Vladimir. Also, did you really have to choose that name? Every other imposter I’ve come across has used the most cliched names imaginable. It’s almost as if you were begging for me to hunt you down. Of course, I knew you were begging for me to kill you when you posted that photo of you wearing that peace sign necklace. As soon as I saw that photo, I remembered this girl I once knew a long time ago who had a necklace just like it. I’ve always wondered why I hadn’t heard from her in years. All I wanted was a lover to spend the rest of my everlasting life with, but alas, you are yet another killer who poses as a vampire as a way to lure in victims.

The prey that was once the predator tried to grab Jess’s legs to knock her down, but she danced out of the way before eventually dropping down to pin his hands over his head. That’s when he noticed the bite marks on her exposed neck. He tried to scream, but his voice couldn’t top the level of the violins. The tiny Victorian doll leaned in closer, pressing her hands so hard against her victim’s wrists that she could feel his bones snapping like twigs.

You were correct; you humans are so foolish.

Kevin didn’t even have the chance to scream before the vampire gave him a long and passionate kiss on the neck. His blood blended in with her lipstick as she pulled away, moaning with pleasure. Those icy blue eyes of his never broke eye contact with the ceiling as Jess dismounted him and quietly mourned the waste of the good blood that was spilled onto the floor.

Upset that her blouse was too damaged to cover up her neck, Jess made her way to the bedroom and found a black scarf to cover up her bite marks. She also noticed the peace sign necklace that had once belonged to the girl she knew. The necklace, the wine bottle, and the copy of Camilla made their way into the red handbag right before Jess knocked over one of the candles on her way out the back. It was only a matter of time before the entire place went up in flames.

Jess had made it out of the neighborhood just in time for someone to finally notice the burning house and call for help. She smiled as she traveled home, ready to finish up her “wine” while reading her new book with her pet raven by her side. She also frowned when she realized that she was just as much a liar as Kevin was. After all, her license stated that she was a twenty-three-year-old named Jessica, not a two-hundred-year-old named Jezebel.