AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following story contains adult humor and situations if you are under the age of eighteen PLEASE LEAVE NOW. Have you ever wondered what sort of misfits could accidentally become vampires? I have as you can read below. Enjoy!
Adam Weston opened his eyes and immediately shuddered in revulsion when his alarm clock went off. Pushing open his coffin he quickly clambered out of it furiously brushing his home earth off his pajamas. He turned off the alarm clock. Shivering Adam pulled off his nightclothes and tossed them into the garbage can to be taken to the incinerator.
Yuck! I hate this, he grumbled to himself.
He rushed to the bathroom and took an hour long shower, brushed his fangs and combed his hair. Afterwards he felt much better. Walking into his bedroom in a pair of plastic slippers he took out his clothes and unwrapped them. He polished his shoes, brushed his shirt and trousers and looked out upon the night.
“I suppose I’m going to have to feed,” he sighed out loud. “It’s been a week and I can’t put it off any longer.”
Slipping a fanny pack around his waist he went out of his apartment and into the city streets. He counted the telephone poles as he went along. It was only four blocks to the hospital and he knew the route there by heart.
Life was tough for a vampire with Obsessive Compulsion Disorder. Germs were everywhere and it had taken him a month to force himself to feed the first night he arose as a newly made bloodsucker. But necessity is the mother of invention and he finally found a routine that would allow him to survive.
He passed through the doors of the emergency room and began sneaking towards the laboratories downstairs. Adam counted the steps as he went with a moist towelette beneath the hand on the railing. Upon reaching his destination he tossed the small dirty thing away, got out a new one and used it to open the door.
“Let’s see if Mark is working tonight,” he said.
Moving quickly to the hematology department Adam was forced to go back to the stairwell when he realized he had missed the first window and didn’t count it. He grumbled under his breath and started over. It took ten minutes for him to get to where he was going because he thought he’d miscounted twice.
“Hello Adam,” Mark said offering his hand.
He recoiled from the extended palm with a shudder.
“Do you have what I want?” he asked his friend.
“Yes I do. Her name is Victoria Munroe and she lives at 3021 West Cleveland Street.”
“You’re sure she’s clean?”
“Absolutely. I tested her today and I can assure you she isn’t sick.”
Adam handed him a plastic bag with one-hundred dollars in it.
“Do you need a map?” his conspirator asked.
“N-no I know where it is,” he stammered.
Two hundred and fifty seven telephone poles and eighty-five fire hydrants later he was standing in front of a white picket fence. The windows to the house were dark. Pulling another antibacterial cloth from his fanny pack he opened the gate and strolled silently up the walk. The small white object fluttered to the ground after he turned into a bat.
Agh! Don’t look down—don’t look down, he told to himself.
He hovered above the window sill and peered inside. Lying on the top of the bed’s sheets was a beautiful and young woman with golden blonde hair. He licked his fangs as he watched the rise and fall of her bosom on her virginal white nightgown.
How am I going to get inside? I could fly down the chimney, he mused.
Then the thought of all the soot and ash covering his clean body made him almost retch. He hovered in place trying to figure out how to land on the windowsill without getting dirty. Adam was forced to grit his teeth and transform into his bipedal form once more. Pulling out a trio of towelettes he tapped on the glass to get Victoria’s attention. He nearly sobbed in joy when she thrashed on the sheets and opened her eyes.
I’m so hungry—please let me in, he said to her psychically.
She stood up, her slender body moving to the song of his seductive mental request. The woman undid the latch on the window and opened the sash. He stepped into her room and watched her with much interest as she opened the neck of her attire, sat down on the bed and cocked her head.
“Take me Master,” she slurred erotically.
She reached for him and he choked down his revulsion and took her hands. The exposed tanned flesh of her throat sang to him. He reached into his fanny pack, yanked out another white cloth and swabbed her neck. Victoria moaned loudly as he sank his fangs into her throat. Her hot blood was tinged with the flavor of anti-germ coating making his ability to drink from her easier. Without the added taste he probably would’ve thrown up. He sucked at the red milk pouring between his lips until she shivered sexually in his grasp.
“Yes take me—take me now!” she exclaimed.
He tried not to puke at the thought of doing what she was really asking for. The sexual lure he used to get into the house made his stomach churn. She wanted him to take off their clothes and wallow around on her dirty sheets like a pair of rutting pigs. He shut the thought off before he lost his cookies. Concentrating on his task at hand he continued to drink deeply until she went limp.
He laid Victoria upon the bed, staked her so she wouldn’t rise and dug into his pack to squirt his hands with a cold, thick sanitizer liquid. After he was done he washed his lips and face with a towelette, used her bathroom to brush his teeth and floss (he brought his supplies) and gargle with a small hotel-sized bottle of Listerine. It took another hour for him to clean her sink.
Well that’s over with thankfully, Adam sighed to himself.
He turned into a bat, closed his eyes due to his acrophobia and flew out the window. Luckily this time, unlike his last feeding, he didn’t collide with the pane of glass or hit the sash on his way out. Fluttering to the ground he turned back into a human-form, brushed his clothing with a lint brush and departed.
Three hundred and fifty-eight telephone poles and one hundred and ten fire hydrants later he was back at his apartment running the sweeper and changing the plastic sheet overtop of the dirt in his coffin. He had taken another shower, changed clothes and began his chores. Dawn came swiftly and he went to bed before the rosy fingers of the sun could singe him.
The alarm clock’s blaring woke him out of a deep slumber. He climbed out of his coffin and looked at the time.
Shit I overslept! I’m behind in my cleaning, he thought. Well at least I don’t have to feed for a week.
Peeling off his pajamas he tossed them in the garbage can and headed for the shower. As the steaming hot water ran down his body he let out sigh. He was tired of this eternal existence.
Just another day in the life of an OCD vampire I suppose.
He brushed and flossed his fangs, gargled and combed his hair. Adam put on a fresh pair of plastic slippers and walked into the living room. Immediately he knew wasn’t alone.
“Get him!” a man yelled.
Several humans landed on him and bore him to the floor. He screamed loudly because he hadn’t vacuumed today and he could feel the dust burrowing into his back. Pinned down he saw an angry man walking towards him with a mallet and wooden stake in his hands.
“No don’t do this!” he shouted.
“My name is David Munroe, you killed my daughter,” the guy snarled. “Prepare to die.”
“Stop it—don’t do this!”
The tip of the stake was set over his heart and he cringed from the contact.
“Any last words bloodsucker before we end your reign of terror?” Mr. Munroe asked.
“Please clean that thing before you destroy me,” he begged.
“Sorry I don’t take requests from murderers.”
As the mallet fell he screamed from the knowledge he was going to get staked by a dirty piece of wood, reduced to a pile of filthy ash and tossed into the city dump. His essence would remain covered with filth and there was nothing he could do about it.