Don’t dive into the deep end if you never learned to swim
Phobia
Vlad was the world’s worst vampire. His sire, Reginald Suceur de Sang (formerly Fred Clutz of Hoboken, NJ) complained about him whenever Vlad flew from the room. “My biggest disappointment,” de Sang told the reporter for the Weekly World Bite after Vlad opened the window and flittered into the night. The Bite was doing a feature on 21st Century marketing and recruitment, of which de Sang was a forerunner.
He stretched his jaw and cast a seductive eye over the reporter (still human) probably in training while she could still travel in daylight. The paper would never saddle an experienced reporter with trivial assignments like this.
He intertwined his fingers, wiggled his index, much like a pompous professor during office hours. “Think of siring as a pyramid scheme. You sire six vampires, who sire six more vampires, and so on. Once you sire six who sired six more, you become a Master Sire.”
He reached for a glass of 1934 Austrian Virgin, of which he bought a case when he produced Six Master Sires of his own. He would offer it to the reporter, but she wouldn’t appreciate a vintage so fine. Or even fresh blood from an open vein, at least for now.
“Think of siring as a pyramid scheme. You sire six vampires, who sire six more vampires, and so on. Once you sire six who sired six more, you become a Master Sire.”
She sipped the imported Kopi Luwak he ordered for living guests. “Do all of your spawn become as successful as you?”
De Sang sighed outwardly, but groaned inwardly. “Alas, many of our spawn disappoint. Humans stake or burn most within weeks, but a few losers hang around forever.” The window opened, and a bat flitted into the room. “Speak of the devil.”
As the bat morphed into Vlad, the moon created a halo in the background. “I’m sorry. I thought your guest would have left.”
De Sang lifted a glass of the Virgin Austrian and offered it to to his spawn. Vlad dropped in place, as still as death. De Sang toasted his spawn and sipped the blood. He returned his attention to the reporter. “A tip for your readers. Before you sire a human, make sure they don’t faint at the sight of blood.”
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Wry noir author Phillip T. Stephens wrote Cigerets, Guns & Beer, Raising Hell, the Indie Book Award winning Seeing Jesus, and the children’s book parody Furious George. Follow him at Phillip T Stephens.
