Bill The Vampire - 01 (5 page)

“Cool! Come on in,” he said as he opened the door wider for me, letting out more of the insufferable techno crap that was playing. “Sorry about the attitude, buddy. Never know who's knocking. Gotta watch out for the narcs.” (
narcs!? What was this, 1985?
)

“No prob,” I answered following him in. “Bill.”

“Huh?” he said, obviously already losing interest in me.

“I said my name is Bill,” and with that I held out my hand.

“Oh. That's cool,” he answered, leaving my hand to just dangle there. “Sally's around here somewhere. Just chill and she'll find you,” he said as he turned away toward more interesting fare.

Douchebag or not, I can't say I really blamed him. Once I was dismissed, I took a second to look around. Hmm, it was an interesting place; kinda had a retro feel to it. Not that it was very surprising, considering what part of the city I was in. Every place in this area was either trying to be cutting-edge hip, or latching onto some past decade like it was coming back into style. This place had a definite 'groovy' vibe to it, minus maybe the music that was playing. As for the party goers... whoa... the party goers. Damn! The only parties I have ever seen that looked like this were on TV. Every chick could have passed as a swimsuit model, and I doubt any of the guys benched under two-hundred and fifty. I tried not to gawk as my brain attempted to process exactly when I had left reality and wandered onto the set of
Gossip Girl
. Forget the decor. They could have decorated the place as a black-plague death pit and it wouldn't have mattered one iota.

I was starting to become acutely aware of how much I didn't fit in when I noticed a similarly out of place fellow off in a corner being chatted up by a tasty redhead. He was about ten years older than me, nearly bald, and looked like he'd be more at home at an accountant’s convention. Not that I should be judging, but it felt good to know there was at least one other person here who I'd stack up pretty well against. Sorry, but maybe it's a guy thing. Whenever there are women around, the whole
Bros Before Hoes
thing goes right out the window, and I start checking out the situation to see who's higher and lower than me on the food chain, so to speak.

Regardless, however, he was also the only person in sight that I was not immediately intimidated by. I was thinking about heading over and introducing myself as the only other 'normal' guy here, when I began to notice that I wasn't. Scattered throughout the crowd were more 'sore thumbs', guys much closer to geek than chic on the social scale, all being kept company by women way out of their (
our
) league. Damn, I thought, they must all either be rich or have huge dicks. But that still didn't answer what I was doing here. I do okay, but I'm definitely not rich, and I don't have a huge dick. Err, that is, there's nothing wrong with the size of my dick. Really! I mean, sure I'm not John Holmes, but things below the belt are just fine, thank you very much.

Okay, time to get off my dick... unless you look like one of the babes at this party. Ah, anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah. While I was lost in this reverie of finances and dongs, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I shook my head to clear it and turned around just to be stunned again. There stood Sally. Holy shit! She was wearing a little green strapless dress, and, well... holy shit!

“You came!” she said (
not yet, but pretty close, considering how she looked
). “I wasn't sure you would. A part of me was hoping you...” she paused, sounding a little uncertain and maybe even... a little sad.

“Hoping I would...?” I tried to get her to continue.

“It doesn't matter. You're here. That’s the important thing.” Whatever made her pause a second ago was now gone. Maybe I had just been imagining it.

“Yeah. I made it. You look great, by the way!” I stammered back, absolutely certain I sounded like a complete social retard.

“Thanks. As I was saying, I wasn't sure you'd actually show up. You sounded a bit nervous on the train.”

“I wasn't. You just caught me by surprise,” I blatantly lied.

“Cool,” she replied, ignoring the obviousness of it all. “Let me show you around.” With that, she hooked her arm around mine (
more physical contact!
) and gave me the tour. Turns out the apartment occupied the entire floor of the building (
damn, I could only imagine the rent
). It was a fairly open floor plan, but not quite a studio. All in all, it was a big space, and I doubt there are too many slumlords who wouldn't have drooled at the chance to get their hands on it. A few subdivisions and a landlord could retire to the Caribbean on the rent alone.

“Whose place is this?” I absently asked as we walked.

“I live here,” she answered. Goddamn! Hot
and
rich. Yes, I am here to tell you with all certainty... life is not fair.

“This is
your
place?” I asked somewhat incredulously.

“Technically it's Jeff's place,” she continued (
Jeff? Yeah, it was too good to be true
), “But a bunch of us share it.” (
A bunch? Okay, there's still hope.
)

“Who's Jeff?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could, hoping to be pointed in the direction of someone obviously gay, or at least one of the other average dudes in the room. Sadly not, I realized, as she pointed directly at my douchebag acquaintance from earlier. Figures. Can't say I was overly surprised by this, either. On the other hand, it's not like he was the only scenery in the room. All things considered, douchebag aside, the entire experience was slowly turning out to be a positive.

“We've met,” I replied neutrally. “How do you two know each other?” I asked, trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

“It's not important right now. Let's not worry about him. You're here with me. Let's mingle before the festivities get started.”

“Festivities?”

“You'll see. The night is still young,” she answered.

Okay. Whatever that meant. Hey, who knows? Maybe this was one of those parties where it all culminated in a wild orgy at the end of the night. A guy I knew in college claimed to have been at one of those. Personally, I thought he was full of shit, but since it at least sounded better than any of my stories, I kept my mouth shut. Besides which, I needed someone to live vicariously through, bullshit or not.

And so we mingled for a while. What I mean, of course, is that
she
mingled, while I was content to just eat my fill of eye candy, of which there was plenty. The problem with candy, though, is if you eat too much, you're asking for trouble.

“May I have your attention, please?” the douchebag... err, Jeff, shouted out. “Midnight is upon us. The time you have all been waiting for has arrived.”

The time I was waiting for? Holy shit, maybe I was right and there
was
going to be an orgy. As long as I didn't have any dude trying to rub his junk up against me, this had the potential to be the best night of my life! If this actually happened, then from this moment on, Tom and Ed would have to worship me as if I were unto a god. Oh, yeah!

“But first,” Jeff continued, “a few quick words, my children (
children? Okay, douche!
). Judging by the new faces I see, the gauntlet thrown down last month by your brothers has been answered (
???
). Dread Stalker's is the score to beat,” he said, motioning to a muscular goon of similar douchey appearance off to his left. Dread Stalker? Either this guy was still living out his high school football fantasies, or his parents were a bunch of goth weirdos.

“Bring forth your offerings, my daughters,” he continued.

I noticed several of the girls, all of them sweet little morsels, step forward, leading some of the men. I immediately noticed the accountant amongst them. I was about to comment when I felt Sally's arm entwine with mine and start to gently pull me forward. I tried to look at her to get a sense of what was going on, but her face was turned in the direction of Jeff. Hmm, if this was an orgy, I hoped I wasn't expected, as a new guy, to perform in front of everyone else. Sally was hot and all, but I wasn't quite so sure if a little stage fright might keep me from getting the job done.

She led me through the crowd and we wound up next to the group who had been singled out. I couldn't help but notice that all of the guys that I was now standing with appeared to be of the decisively non male-model variety I had noticed before. Odd. I was actually starting to wonder if this was about to turn into the hazing scene from
Revenge of The Nerds
when Jeff began slowly pacing in front of us, and spoke up again.

“Very nice. Any that you fancy before we get started, Ozymandias?” he asked toward the direction of the main crowd.

A bored voice with a vaguely Bostonian accent answered from near the back of the crowd,

“Not particularly. Carry on with your silliness. Don't worry about me.” I couldn't help but notice a brief look of annoyance cross Jeff's face at the answer he was given. I tried to scan the crowd for the source of the voice, but that was when Jeff's overly smug-looking face stopped in front of me and continued.

“So be it. As host, it is mine to offer our hospitality, but as guests, it is yours to refuse (
ooh, wonder how many brain cells this ox had to burn off to come up with that
). Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Excellent choices, my daughters. But before we can judge the cattle...”

I interrupted, “Did you just call me...*urk*” Make that
tried
to interrupt. Jeff's hand shot out, lightning quick, and grabbed me by the throat with a grip that felt strong even for a guy with his build.

“Cattle do
NOT
speak!” he spat at me. “It is just judged... after we feast,” he finished softly, and then smiled. If you're guessing that his eyes turned black as coal, and his canines elongated in front of me, well, you're wrong. Don't be such a pretentious know it all!

Just messing with you! That's exactly what happened. It's kind of comforting to know that being a corpse hasn't affected my sense of humor. Unfortunately, it's the, hah-hah, if I don't laugh, then I'll start screaming, type of comedy. But hey, never let it be said I didn't crack wise in the face of a creature that shouldn't exist, and who was now lowering its head to tear into my throat.

And that brings us back to the here and now. I guess that also explains why I was slowly starting to regain my senses, as opposed to standing in front of the pearly gates with St. Peter reading back to me a list of all the times I masturbated. Unless I was seriously hallucinating, I've seen enough movies to know that I was most likely going to wake up with a serious overbite and a hankering for a hunk of blood. Oh, well, as long as I wasn't also all sparkly, because that would be just fucking weird.

I have to admit, now that the wooziness was starting to clear, I didn't feel half bad. Not only was I not feeling like someone who had just gotten their neck chewed out, I was starting to feel pretty goddamn excellent. I could feel myself coming to. I was just about to flutter my eyes open when the screaming started. Loud screaming.
Too
loud, as if someone were yelling into a megaphone cranked to eleven.

I raised my hands (
hey, they work again!
) to my ears, when suddenly the scream became a choked gurgle. Almost immediately afterward, there came a *WHOOOSH* noise, followed by a brief wall of heat washing over me.