“Not cool, bro. Not cool at all. You can’t just feed on people without telling them. That should be like, rule numero uno of vampirism! Where’s the consent, dude?” We’ve known each other for years now. Literally years. And he’s been munching on my veins this entire time? “Also, did you never consider that I might die at some point?”
“Vamp blood only stays in your system for twenty-four hours, max, dude! What are the chances that you’d die on a day with it in your body, when I only feed on you once or twice a week!” Tyson cries, pulling on his dark hair. “And listen, I know it was fucked up for me to do that without you knowing. But like, how else am I gonna eat? I can’t just goaround telling people I’m a vampire and ask if I can have some of their blood!”
“There’s gotta be like underground clubs for shit like this, right? Where consenting humans let vamps feed off of them? You can’t be the only vampire around, Tys.”
Tyson looks flabbergasted. “Shit. I never even thought of that, man.”
“Are you kidding me, dude?!” And people callmedumb!? “You’ve been a vampire since…what did you say? 1982? And you never thought that maybe there were more vampires out there, or that they might have a way to get blood without attacking innocent people?!”
“I get it. I get it. Okay? I fucked up. But that’s not important right now?—”
“I mean, it’s pretty important to me seeing as you’ve been drinking from me like I’m a fountain.” I grumble.
Tyson continues on, like I didn’t interrupt him. “What’s important is that you need to feed in the next three days, or you are going to die, for real.”
“Ah, man. This is not how I was expecting my day to go.”
Like he senses that I’m upset, Nacho comes out from behind my back, clawing his way up my arm to sit on my shoulder. His purring in my ear soothes me.
“Well, I really don’t think anyone wakes up expecting to become a vampire.” Tyson points out, unhelpfully.
“Okay, so what now? We try to find a group of vampires so we can get some blood in me before I die?” Fuck dude, I’m only twenty-five. I haven’t even reached peak fitness yet. I have so much more lifting I could do.
“We don’t really have time for that, Kipper. I haven’t run across another vamp since I was turned.” Tyson takes a deep breath. “You’re going to have to feed on a random human. And the only method that’s worked for me is picking someone who is schwasted, feeding, and then erasing their memory.”
All of the blood drains out of my face. “No…no, no, no. No way, dude! I can’t do that.”
“What choice do you have, bro? You can’t just not feed.” Tysonwalks towards me slowly, kneeling down in front of me and placing his palms on my knees. As soon as Tyson touches me, Nacho leaps up onto all fours, hackles raised, and lets out a warning hiss. Tyson let’s go on my knees, holding his hands up in surrender.
After Nacho calms back down, Tys continues. “You don’t have time for morals, Kip. And I promise, the human will be fine. You give them a little of your blood, they heal, and then it’ll be like it never happened. After you feed and fully turn, we can start looking for a group, or consenting donors.”
“Fuck, man. I don’t wanna die. I’m too young and hot. Think of all the things I haven’t done yet! The people I haven’t boned down!” My head falls into my hands. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.Once. And then we’re going to do it my way.”
The End Zone is a local sports bar, a very popular local sports bar. It’s not usually a place Tys and I go to a whole lot. I love working out and fitness, but never really got into sports. Most people think I’m a jock because of my appearance. ‘Oh, you must’ve been a football player!’ is one I get a lot. But that was never for me. I work out and lift because I enjoy it. I like having a muscular bod, and drool-worthy abs (this is confirmed by past hook-ups), but not for the purpose of being a sports guy.
Tys decided we should come here instead of going to our usual spot, Crave, because no one will recognize us. So if anything weird goes down, or tonight goes wrong, people won’t be able to identify us. Sometimes even meatheads have solid ideas.
The place is packed with bodies, and I’m realizing that my sense of smell must be better than before because it smells like sweaty balls in here. I’m talking balls that haven’t been washed, even after a grueling workout. It smells like the inside of a jockstrap.
“So, you’re gonna wanna look for someone who is drunk enough that they probably won’t remember much tomorrow morning, even without wiping their memory. They’re usually pretty easy targets, anddon’t cause a whole lot of trouble when you snack on them.” Tyson explains between glugs of his beer.
“This feels wrong…” None of these people deserve to be bitten. Unless they’re like, a bad dude. But how am I supposed to judge that?
“It’s you or them, Kipper. You gotta do what you gotta to do survive.”
“I wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t been secretly biting me for years…but sure, now it’s on me to do what I gotta to do survive.” Normally I’m a pretty carefree, easygoing type of dude, but even I have my limits. And my ‘best friend’ feeding on me without my approval for the last few years? That’s a hard limit. Not only that, but it feels like Tyson is acting like none of this is a big deal. It is a big deal, to me at least. I don’t want to rely on drinking blood to live.
“I know, I’m sorry. How many times do I gotta say that?” Tyson gripes. “Ohh, okay, look. What about her?”
He points to a woman slouched down at the bar. Even from here I can see she’s totally blitzed. But something about her screams ‘sadness’, and I can’t add to that. Even if she’s not going to remember what I did, I’ll know.
How am I going to do this? Do I have a choice?
“Not her.” I reply.
“Ohhhkayyy…what about…” Tyson swivels his eyes around the room, darting from person to person. He’s clearly done this loads of times before, which unsettles me even more than I already was. “Him?”
This time, it’s a frat boy who’s just hanging out with his buds. They’re having a great time, watching football on one of the TVs hanging from a wall. The group is loud and obnoxious, but it’s a sports bar, and that isn’t a crime.
