HELP! Please you have to do something, I’m not sure how much time I have left until I turn. As you can see, I’ve clearly been bitten and holy fuck does it hurt. I don’t think antiseptics are going to fix this problem, because this injury may involve intervention from the church.
If you would believe it, we may have the next Dracula on our hands because this random Eastern European guy is the one who just bit me.
Now I’m no Johnathan Harker, despite my three-week stint selling real estate after college, but I think I know when I’m about to become the victim of someone’s insatiable bloodlust. If he weren’t from the Order of the Dragon, why was he morbidly pale, dressed in all black, and wearing so many gold chains? All he was missing was the widow’s peak hairline!
Alright so maybe I thought all vampires looked like the ones from “Tru Blood” or the goths that hang out at the mall and not middle-aged dudes in Adidas tracksuits, especially with so much body hair. Now that I think about it he could be part werewolf.
Before you ask, I am fully aware that the likelihood of this man being an immortal, wealthy, and undead nobleman are slim to none. But I can’t rule out the possibility of him not having been bitten by a vampire at some point in his life, and that’s probably what led him to take a chunk out of my shoulder as I fought over the last pack of Chesterfield cigs at the bodega. It must be nice to smoke all you want and not get cancer, Vlad!
There is no way he was human, given how fast he went from a squat to being at my throat. In his defense though, I did call him a “Romanian fuckwad” and he looked more Maldovan or Hungarian. I’m pretty sure wherever in the former Eastern Bloc he hails from is littered with ominous castles where he was up to unsavory vampiric shenanigans, I assume.
But now that the sun is finally rising, he can’t bleed me dry or beat me half to death for being ignorant about European geography. Wait is that… oh shit it’s him! But that’s impossible! Well, this can only mean one thing: he’s one of those daywalkers.
Welp, false alarm everyone! If you’ll excuse me, I need to go katana shopping.