The following tale is from my current project: A collection of short stories I am writing for my latest book: Dreamscapes which I am hoping to have published early next year.

True Vampire’s Kiss

Sherry stood at the door with three large and rather overly packed suitcases. She looked around one last time before. John pretended not to notice while he sat at his desk and stared at the blank page of Microsoft Word on his laptop. It was something he had done far too often as of late. There were no more words to share between them. Everything had been said during John and Sherry’s last heated argument which had ended just minutes before.

“…For God’s sake, it was just a stupid dream, Sherry! You’re the only one in my life baby, you know that… There is no ‘She!’”

“Just a stupid dream? you were practically humping the bed as you called out her name for Christ sake! What was it… Belle, Elle… Go rot in hell you sick fuck!”

The door slammed.

John looked up and stared at the door a while before grabbing for his packet of Marlboro. He lit one, inhaled deeply and held it for a moment before exhaling.

He had met Sherry at a book signing almost two years previous. She had proffered the last book of his vampire series for his signature. The series had been a success, and John had proudly kept the clipping from the New York Times with the heading, Twilight meets Underworld. John Buchanon’s latest…

“Who would you like me to make it out to?” He had said as he reached for the book. As he reached and looked up from the signing table in, he was immediately struck by the red-headed beauty smiling down at him. Her hair fell in waves upon her shoulders, and bright green eyes shone at him. She was wearing a light green see-through dress which revealed her slender form and well-rounded breasts cupped in an emerald bra that matched her other underwear. “Sherry.” She said. “You can call me, Sherry.” “Thank you, Sherry.” He drooled, and signed it, “With love…” without even thinking about it.

It was almost closing time at Barnes & Noble and after signing her book he said, “I’ll be done in a few minutes, would you fancy joining me for a coffee… er, if you’re free of course?”

“I’d be delighted!”   

Returning from his short reverie, John reached for a bottle of red which was conveniently situated near his already drained glass beside his laptop. He inadvertently knocked the glass over as he went to put the bottle back down.

“Shit shit shit!” he quickly lifted his soaked laptop, strode across the open-planned bachelor pad to the kitchen sink and grabbed the nearest dish towel to dry it down. Putting it down on the counter he turned his attention to his desk, the old blue rug below had a big patch of red quickly turning pink as it soaked the wine like a sponge. He loved that rug. “Fuck!” He threw away the dishtowel, ran some water in the sink and spent the next half an hour cleaning up properly.

Draining the rest of the red down his throat from the neck, John threw the bottle in the bin in disgust, lit a cigarette, grabbed his jacket and went out. By the time he returned and replaced his laptop back on his desk, the keyboard was already beginning to turn stiff. “Oh Fuck!”

***

It was evening and John was not expecting anyone so he was surprised by the sudden knock on the door. He thought maybe Sherry had forgotten something, or changed her mind and come back. He grinned as he visualised her with mascara running down her tear-stricken face, suitcases in tow and the anticipation of what the raw emotion would probably lead to. He remembered how she’d pleasured him down on her knees the last time she’d walked out on him and returned. He composed himself quickly not wanting to open the door with a hard-on.

It wasn’t Sherry. Nevertheless, upon opening it he stood transfixed as the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen stood there smiling. Her large dark eyes complemented the perfect nose and high pale cheekbones as raven hair fell in locks upon her shoulders. She spoke in a melodic tone, her perfect white teeth highlighted by perfectly applied deep red lipstick.

“Hi, I’m Elle, your new neighbour. I thought it would be neighbourly to come over and introduce myself…”

“Oh, hi… eh, yes… Sorry, it’s just, I wasn’t expecting anyone, and when you knocked on the door… God, I’m rambling like an idiot… Sorry, I forget my manners, I’m John, by the way, John Buchanon. Would you like to come in?” Did I really just say that last bit?

“Yes, thank you so much, John. you’re very kind to invite me in.”

“I thought I noticed a removal truck yesterday,” he lied. “Er, would you like a drink of anything? I have some wine if you like that sort of thing. I take it you’ve been busy with unpacking and getting things sorted?” What is wrong with me!

“Do you have red?”

“Sure, it’s my favourite. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

John went into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of glasses, and a bottle of red. As he turned around he almost bumped into Elle for she was standing right behind him. Her rounded breasts beckoned a glance from him as they bulged from the short, black, silk v-neck dress she was wearing. He gulped uncontrollably and started to get hard. Oh, my God!

Elle pursed her lips slightly then smiled and caressed his bulging groin. She reached to take the bottle from his hand saying,

“Why don’t we take this upstairs where we can be more comfortable and get to know each other better?”

Initially, John began to object, but as he gazed into her eyes it all seemed to make perfect sense. She led him by the hand up the stairs and into the bedroom in an all too familiar way. They entered the bedroom and sat upon the bed.

“Do you remember me from your dreams? I’ve been calling you to come to me for a long, long time. This was all preordained, my love.” She said as her hand gently caressed his cheek.

In a trance-like state, he replied, “Yes,” as the memories of forgotten dreams seemed to resurface.

She kissed him full on the lips, exploring his mouth with her tongue and caressed his bulging groin before proceeding to undress him. pushing him gently down on the bed, she slipped off her dress, and they made love throughout the night…

Completely spent, John, lay listening to her in a daze as she spoke to him,

“I must go now my love, but tomorrow we will be together forever now that the obstacle is gone. First, I must mark you with this, for nothing ends lovemaking better than a true vampire’s kiss.”

Elle’s fangs punctured his neck and she drank deeply feeding upon his very life’s essence until he had nothing more to give.

John awoke with a start. The dream had been more potent than the others. It had all seemed so real… So much so, he actually examined his neck in the mirror before freshening up in the bathroom because it still hurt where Elle’s fangs had entered in his dream… “Phew! I must be losing it!”

***

The following evening, John was going over a poem he had written inspired by his dream…

True Vampire’s Kiss

You came to me mysteriously

Seductive… beauty… bliss

As we made love

You took my neck

With true vampire’s kiss

When I awoke

My neck did ache

I feared for a while

And when the mirror

Could not reflect

I could not help

But smile

This could be the premise for my last in the series! I have my mojo back!

John was suddenly interrupted from his thoughts by a knock on the door which rather startled him. He got goosebumps and a shiver ran down his spine as he paused and stared at the door. Get a grip! He admonished himself as he went to answer it.

“Hi, I’m Elle…”

-Kevin Cooper, 2019.