Member-only story
I Am A Vampire
And let me tell you, it’s really depressing
I’ll admit the first hundred years or so was reasonably amusing. I was inducted, involuntarily, into the world of the Undead by a gorgeous woman I mistook to be in her mid-thirties but who was, in reality, over eleven hundred years old. I was, therefore, an innocent victim of cradle-snatching. As one of the Undead, she had no need of facelifts and breast augmentations nor of absurdly expensive (and entirely ineffectual) creams and lotions. She captivated me with her gaze and her worldly conversation and, well, it was love at first bite.
Being dead and yet still entirely sentient is a curious experience and one for which I personally was a little under-prepared. Nevertheless, the main thing in (after)life is to be adaptable, and so I settled into my existence as a vampire without too much difficulty. As for my seductress, I’m sad to say she sucked me like a professional and then abandoned me without compunction once she’d taken her fill. Such is the way of the world, or so I’ve since been reliably informed by more than one divorce lawyer.
The first upside of being Undead I noticed was that, as a cold-blooded creature now, I could save a small fortune each winter on heating bills. As I also no longer needed to buy groceries, this meant that even a modest income could be sent straight to the bank…
