And yet I still find bits of writing running through my head. Oh for sure, being in the shadow of Big Ben earlier today while on a walking tour of downtown London, then another wonderful night with Dom, you’d think I’d have come back to my rental and fallen into a dream filled sleep. But no, I’m up and this was running through my head.
As far as vampire bites go, this was so not how I’d pictured it. I mean it wasn’t anything like what they show in the movies. You know the scene, where the sexy vampire has the woman in a half way decent loving embrace, she’s usually bent over backward and he’s there chewing on her neck, gently. Um, I wish. Instead, I was curled up on my side, twitching like a woman possessed as this dry withered thing damn near ripped my throat to pieces. I mean this thing was ANCIENT. He made the crypt keeper from that old TV show look like a Hollywood leading man. He smelled of rot, and mold, and all things damp underground. I didn’t have any super powers or magic to rely on so really, there’s no way to know just how old this thing was. I will tell you though, I bet he’d seen his share of dinosaurs once upon a time. I would have thrown up from the stench of him for sure had he not been making a mess of my throat. I blamed Travis. This was all his fault. Feeding me that romantic bullshit about how our first weekend away would be so great if we spent it camping instead of in some fancy hotel with indoor plumbing and soft beds. I thought I was in love with Travis so I agreed. And I guess I was in love with him, right up until this apparition misted out of the air at the edge of our campsite. You know how your brain just refuses to make sense of something when it seems so far outside the realm of normalcy? Yeah, well my brain doesn’t usually work that way. I tend to take things as they appear so of course, I see the corpse and I think zombie or vampire; whatever it is, our gooses are cooked. We should run. So I jump up and get ready to beat feet. Travis on the other hand thinks someone’s playing a joke on us and proceeds to walk toward the creature. That’s when I stopped being in love with him. How can I love somebody so flippin’ stupid? I know he’s seen the movies, hell I drug him to most of ‘em or made him watch them on the telly before I’d let him touch me. Any idiot knows you don’t walk TOWARD the monster. But whatever. He got about five feet away from it when I think it finally dawned on him that something was horribly wrong with this picture. Yeah well, about that time the corpse did this crazy slithery run, jump move. Travis screamed like a little girl and tried to run. Yeah, didn’t quite make it. The beastie leapt on him like stink on shit. I didn’t stick around for the carnage, but I could hear it clear enough even over my breathing as I took off into the woods back down the short trail to the truck. I almost made it. Had my hand on the handle when its dry, flaky, sort like the innards of a really well done biscuit I imagined, hand closed on my shoulder. When I tell you it had a grip, please believe me. I heard my clavicle break, my shoulder-blade snapped as well. I didn’t scream though. You would have been proud. I didn’t know it at the time but I was saving those loud, throat bursting sounds for when he spun me around and I got to be face to face with the dead thing walking. The eyes weren’t the worst. Jet black, no pupils, just all black. I could handle that. What drove me to finally start screaming was that patches of his face didn’t exist anymore. I could see straight through his cheek at the skull and what little muscle lay beneath. There were of course the crazy long, sharp canines. Of which, I could only see the one on the side where the cheek and some of the lips were missing. There was a patch missing over his left eye as well. Not much to see there except the grey of the skull beneath. Right about then, my brain sort of clicked over to straight crazy mode and I screamed. A couple of real blood curdlers as the great writers might have written. I’m willing to bet a bunch of the other campers had nightmares that night after hearing me scream like that. Providing that the dead thing hadn’t done away with them already. I wasn’t really caring at that point. He let me scream for a good minute before just launching himself at my neck. Even in crazy mode, I tried to protect myself. I dropped to my knees as best I could with him attached to my neck like some freakishly large Sy-Fy movie mutated leach. I curled my legs up trying to maybe get my knees or something between us but as you know, vampires are awesomely strong. He just kept chewing and I kept trying to get away. It was really kind of funny in a sad, you know there’s no hope for you surviving this, kind of way. I’d always imagined getting bit as a more sensual type activity. There’d be soft light, the vampire would be some sexy, hunk of masculinity who would have used his powers of beguilement to make me want the bite. At some point in the biting, I’d have the most powerful orgasm ever, then pass quietly into the darkness that would mean either death or transformation. I was hoping for transformation. Some how though, I didn’t think that would be the case as I lie just a foot away from the truck, curled into the best imitation of a fetal position I could manage, with the worlds oldest non-living blood sucker giving me the world’s most serious and most likely fatal hickie. Damn Travis and his camping trip.
Funny huh? I’m thinking it’s maybe a by-product of having spent some time on today’s tour at the Lyceum Theater where Bram Stoker once worked. Most people associate him with vampires. Yeah, that’s what planted the idea in my head. Or maybe it’s because Dom mentioned he’d like to take me out into the British countryside this weekend. Apparently in just this short time he’s grown quite fond of me. I can’t lie, I’ve grown quite fond of him as well. This isn’t what I came here for.