The Truth In Nostalgia

It was beginning to get a bit silly, being a vampire.

He sunk into the old, wooden box and made himself comfortable. The velvet lining on the cushions inside had recently been replaced, and the new fabric had the unmistakable scent of lilacs and roses. And earth, but that was a smell that would never go away.

Over the weekend a new movie had premiered. It was one of those huge, summer movies that fans flock around for days to be the first to see. And it was about vampires.

It was beginning to be a bit silly, being a vampire.

He had been the first “interview with a vampire” so many years ago he’d forgotten the exact date. Not that it mattered any more. Human imagination had the ability to spin just about anything out of control. Especially things they didn’t understand.

He sighed. Everywhere he looked he saw vampires. When it came to TV and movies, bloodsuckers dominated the monster world. True Blood and Twilight and The Gates and The Vampire Diaries and Buffy and The Count on Sesame Street. Vampire goth music and nightclubs and clothing lines and cosmetic surgery.

Who would want permanent fangs? If his fangs weren’t retractable he would have gotten sick of them centuries ago.

There were people running around acting like vampires, playing games that made them act like vampires, writing silly amounts of books about vampires and even believing they were vampires.

When they weren’t.

You want to prove you’re a vampire, step out in the damn sun, son. The vampires he saw springing up all over were supervampires, as far as he was concerned. What had happened to the story?

Between sleeping on native soil, being repulsed by garlic (not killed, just nauseated excruciatingly), having to be invited across certain thresholds, having a super-sucky relationship with the sun (ha, sucky!), and having to feed on human blood to risk turning into a rabid animal, he was having a pretty rough time of it.

He wondered what his kindred thought of the modern world. He wondered if he had any kindred left. He wondered if he should turn someone else, just so he could have someone to chat with when it was raining out.

Going out to feed in the rain was obnoxious. All that flowing water…

With the world like it was, what would a freshly turned vampire be like?

“Wow, I’m a vampire,” he (or she) would say. “How do I turn into a wolf?”

“You don’t.”

They would be disappointed. They would almost definitely be a she.  That would just make things easier.

“You don’t turn into a bat or a cloud of mist or a dragonfly with pastel wings, either,” he would tell her.

“Yeah,” she would argue like any good, rebellious young lady. “But in that movie…”

“they got it wrong.” He would finish her sentence and cut her off at the same time, because that would be his role as an overbearing and condescending son of a bitch. “And you won’t be able to go out during the day, either. No matter how old you are or how many other vampires you kill.”

“Shitty.” She would role her eyes, but push onward. “So when do I meet the others?”

“What others?”

“The other vampires.”

“Well, I’m the only one that I still know of. And then there’s you. So you’ve already met everyone.”

“This is going to suck, isn’t it?”

“At least you can see the humor of the situation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

He breathed in deep. The scent of the flowers washed over him and he slid into his comfort zone. There wouldn’t be a crazy man with a wooden stake arriving any time soon, because nobody knew he existed.

His muscles relaxed and he began to feel himself slipping away. Perhaps he should find someone a little older. Someone that grew up with Keifer Sutherland and that guy from the time travel movie as vampires. Or Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise. At least they were a little closer to the hell that was the truth.

It’s hard to be believably tortured when you have airbrushed abs.


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Filed under Movies, Nostalgia, Television

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