Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Dodging Dorcas—A Vampire's Tale of Woe by Drake Ahmemphis Part IV


Drake, Drake Ahmemphis, Vampire, Energy, Story
The Glitter Globe/S.R. Karfelt



“Holy shit,” says Poppy. “You are vampires!”
I nod. Dorcas is going to be down a long time.
“I thought sunlight did that.”
“Sunlight doesn’t bother us.”
Poppy frowns at Dorcas. “You two go out in daylight?”
“As you can see, it’s not a good idea with Dorcas.”
She studies me. “You could.”
I smile. Dorcas scared my nuts back into position and I’m good to go now.
“I get the feeling you have a one-track mind, Drake.”
“It’s a problem.”
“I have a problem too. Exactly who is Dorcas?”
“My wife.”

Poppy’s icy glare thrills me. “It bothers you more that I’m married than a vampire?”
          “Are you going to suck my blood?”
          “I told you that’s not even a thing.”
          “Then yes.”
          “Good.” I take the water bottle off her and pull her close. “Because it’s not marriage as you know it. We were fourteen and told to. I liked her hair; she liked my house, so...”
          “So, bullshit.”
          “None of us knew what narcissistic sociopath meant then, but I’ve had plenty of time to learn.”
          “How much time?”
          “I had that twelve-hundred-year-old table made as a wedding gift for Dorcas.”

My age seems to bother Poppy. She struggles from my grip to study me. I know I’ll pass muster. Since the curse in my twentieth year I’ve not aged a day. Neither has Dorcas, but she started rotting right off.
          “Why does your wife look like that?”
          I sigh. “Sucking energy from people is like a drug. Dorcas is an addict.”
          “You don’t do it?”
          Shrugging, I admit. “There’s no choice. I have to take some. I try not to harm anyone, and I eat food, and make love to beautiful women. Consuming is Dorcas’s only pleasure. It always was.”


“Would Dorcas have killed us?” Poppy asks, double-checking the locked door.
          “Not me. I’m already dead.”
          “Why were you so scared then?”
          “For you.”
“Liar. You were scared for you too.”
“Of course! I can feel the kind of pain Dorcas inflicts. I hate when she breaks my bones. But sooner or later she’s going to beat me into a nine month coma for this. There’s no escape for me, but you’re going to be long gone by then. Somewhere she can’t get to.”
“She’s broken your bones?”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
“Drake, that’s awful. Why don’t you leave her?”
“I can’t. She’s all I have.”





It's 3:30 a.m. and I'm queuing up blog posts of A Vampire's Tale of Woe to run while I'm in Egypt doing book research. Also, hopefully, I'll also be riding a camel because I just get these ideas in my head about what I need to do. I'm not the only one.




The photo in the top of this post is another one of mine from Rome. It's graffiti at the Colosseum. Some things never change.







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If you can hear me, verbose on me. Or throw glitter. Wotever.