Vignette Six

Oh We Fancy Now

Commonly accepted Human folklore states that vampires are the most elegantly evil of all the creatures. Commonly accepted Undead folklore states that humans are the most imbecilic evil of all the creatures. If we apply logic to the Human’s interpretation of evil, all we discover is this-a Vampire is bad because it is at the very least, well dressed. The Book of the Undead also states in the by-laws that Vampires are required to have accents. But otherwise, they blend. More importantly, vampires were thought to feed only from the neck and the wrists. Veins and Arteries carry the main supply of blood around the body. Humans give themselves a lot of credit about being such efficient machines. This is not a reality. The neck was good, but LV needed the whole body.

And That Involves A Lot of Sucking.

To make a vampire’s contact with a human during dinner time go a bit faster, most vampires ripped off human limbs and saved them for later. Think Polly-Oh String Cheese. The Littlest Vampire didn’t slaughter for revenge or personal gain. She slaughtered to eat. She was a tiny thing compared to most of her prey, so she believed in left-overs. Presently, the moron underneath her was trying to get his hands under the Littlest Vampire's shirt; and that was going to be the last thing he would ever do.

Leave the Light On

The Littlest Vampire giggled and reached for his hands, giving the impression of coy modesty. She leaned forward and placed her lips on his neck. She could tell by all his “ohhhs and ahhhs” that the human thought he had another thing coming. She parted her lips and let her fangs rub against the prickly leather this human had for a neck. The most human teeth can do is give you a hickey; therefore, the sensation of a vampire’s fang is an unexpected one. Like a chainsaw when you were thinking plastic spoon. She made sure to position her tiny hands around his wrists so when the idiot would finally panic, LV would maximize the carnage.

Human, the Other White Meat

There was a split second when the human’s subconscious realized he was no longer the hunter. It translated into a quickening of the pulse so small even a heart specialist couldn’t discern it. To the Littlest Vampire it was like a fire alarm. She sank her fangs into his jugular as he began to panic. “What the Fu…?” was exactly what he said before he started screaming. LV was going swimming in this asshole’s jugular; to prove she was no amateur, she was ripping his hands off at the wrist. And so, this human- this shining example of “nothing to write home about” met his demise while screaming like a little girl. He begged and cried, offered money that he didn’t have, and vowed to live a respectable life going forward. But most humans couldn’t spot respectable, even if it was a nun outside a whorehouse.

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