Nick's Luck
by Andrea Dennin
When the hot
vampire chick walked into the bar and asked Nick
if he wanted to live forever, he thought he’d
hit it big time.
If she’d
told him eternal life meant playing suck-toy to
some greedy, overweight vampire, Nick might have
reconsidered.
Apparently he
wasn’t the only horny dupe hoping for
eternal sex-slave action. Guys from all age
groups jammed in every dusty corner to watch the
bloody ceremony.
Nick wondered
how many were dying like him.
He moved to
the front of the line when two robed vamps
carried out the freshly-sucked unconscious old
guy in front of him.
“Guess
some people can’t hack the sight of blood,”
Fat Vamp said, spraying some of his meal as he
talked.
Six months to
live, Nick reminded himself. No choice.
Old and fresh
blood splattered the stone steps leading to Fat
Vamp’s chair. The smell made Nick want to
puke.
He looked
around, hoping hot vamp chick would whisk him
away and keep good on her naughty promises.
“Next.”
Fat Vamp called.
Nick and Fat
Vamp eyed each other.
“So, what
happened to the chick from the bar? She said
she’d turn me.” Nick said.
Fat Vamp
squished up his hairy face and sighed. “You
got two choices, kid. Me or death. And
death’s right out that door.”
The vampires
in the group parted to light the way, mocking
Nick.
They smelled
death on him. The weakening muscles. The
breakdown of tissue. It’d been why the hot
vamp chick had come to him. She’d sensed it.
Nature had
screwed him now luck spat in his face.
Nick bowed his
head and extended his wrist.
Fat Vamp
pushed him to his knees and bit him.
“This
shit’s tainted. You’re a friggin’
werewolf.”
Every undead
eye glared at Nick.
“So? You
discriminate against werewolves?”
Fat Vamp
scratched himself. “My wife is a werewolf.
Worst mistake I made extending her life span to
eternity. Talk about eternal hell.”
“Come on,
man. I’m dying.” Nick said, sweating
desperation.
Fat vamp must
have smelled it. “Well, then it’s lucky
you found me.” He smiled with all his sharp,
blood-stained teeth.
“I
wouldn’t call it luck.” Nick shot him a
wary look. “What’s eternal life gonna
cost me?”
Fat Vamp
belched, then said, “Hundred-fifty years
servitude. And promise you won’t marry a
vampire. I don’t want any werewolf-vampire
hybrids running around. Got enough of those at
home.”
Nick
considered the deal.
“Take it
or leave it, kid.”
Nick asked the
burning question on his mind. “So, I’m
not a sex slave?”
Fat vamp
rolled his eyes. “Only if you wanna be. Talk
to Chad and Jack over there about it later.”
Nick looked
over as the two vampires waved and smiled.
Fat Vamp
farted.
“Today,
kid." He said. "I got a long line to
get through. You think I like gorging on blood
all day six days a week?”
Nick looked at
the bunched fat trying and failing to escape the
tight belt around Fat Vamp’s waist. He
didn’t answer.
“Hey,”
Fat Vamp yelled as Nick extended his wrist again,
“Somebody get me a heart - Oh ha ha wiseass
- hurry up! Werewolf blood gives me wicked shits!”
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