Derf

Slowly the Vampire Turned

Chapter One

Slowly, the vampire turned, towards the window. Outside the window the moon was rising, which was like the sun but white and not warm and it didn't turn him to ash. It was a full moon. His eyebrows danced across his forehead like mating caterpillars as he observed the moonrise for the thousandth time. Familiar feelings were brewing within his chest, he knew this well, for he felt this every night. It was time to hunt...

Disguised as the gayest bat ever he flapped his way out of the window and across the great, sleeping city, populated only by mortals who could never understand how fabulous it was to be a vampire. To be one with the night as a great big faggy bat flapping your way through the moonlight. Lost in his brooding thoughts he almost collided with a weathervane, it looked almost like the cockerel was weeping blood in the moonlight. But it wasn't blood, or he would have known, for he was a vampire.

Flap flap flap, went the faggy bat into the darkest alley populated only by those hobos who had lost several limbs or at least half their face. Nowhere near appropriate feeding for a vampire as gay as he. With a great big swoosh he dropped into a pile of garbage bags and floundered out, flapping his cloak around him and chasing the stumbling hobos out of the alley. This was now HIS domain, and he would seek out someone tormented enough to understand his bloody tears for this night's meal.

Still lost in his brooding thoughts, the vampire went across the street and entered The Pierced Scrotum, darkest and gothiest techno nightclub in the great city. The deep bass thumping across the street and keeping everyone in a ten-block radius awake felt to him like the thumping of a great heart. Here he would find his Gothyck bride for the night.

Waving his big gay black cloak around him the vampire strode unto the dance floor, unnoticed by the black, pierced, pale and leather-clad masses. They were his children, except not literally, for he had never had children, but they were still born from the same night-black, angst-suffused womb as he. His gay gaze swept over a prospective bride with an ankh-piercing through her left nostril, but she would not do, she did not have the angst he craved. He observed a spindly specimen dressed in a single sheet of leather, but she smiled. It was an affront to his brooding soul.

Heaving a great big gay sigh he entered the bathrooms and went to the stall, it seemed that he would seek his usual bride for this day. The only bride that could satisfy his great big gay cravings. The only bride that would ever put his angst to rest. There was a rustling behind the gloryhole, and for once he smiled as well.

Slowly the vampire turned and sucked a cock.