Libby’s Post – At least I got my pirate

Halloween candy

Image courtesy Luke Jones via Flickr

So, I woke up this morning with a hangover. Yep, a vampire hangover.

The day began like any other Halloween. I had plenty of candy for the kids. My yard was decorated with a couple of uncarved pumpkins and a sign that said, ‘boo’ on the door. It was a step up from last year and I didn’t want to call attention to myself, you know.

After the last of the rug rats came by, I planned to head to the bar down the street. They have a costume contest every year.

And that’s where I was stuck. What was I going to be? A vampire is a total cop out. It’s like when a doctor or a nurse dresses as a doctor or a nurse. Seriously, the point is to be something you’re not. Then there’s the slayer option. I’d make an awesome Buffy Summers, but I had a feeling plenty of vamps had already been there, done that.

I strolled the makeshift aisles of the Halloween store. Some of the costumes were immediately placed in the ‘no’ category. A wicked witch costume? Not enough leg. A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? I didn’t even know an adult woman would dress as such a thing.

And I ruled out anything with face makeup. All of that greasy, comedogenic crap on your face. No thank you.

Halloween Store

Image courtesy Kimco Realty via Flickr

My eyes went from package to package, really just looking for the word sexy. Anything can be made sexy nowadays. I’m pretty sure I once saw a sexy lobster costume.

I settled on a sexy mermaid. I guess I wanted to see how well I could walk dressed as a fish. And I thought it would be quite the sight. A vampire mermaid feeding off Batman or a pirate. Yes, I would have to find a pirate to feed on.

I was beginning to get in the spirit, so I quickly took a drink from one of the clerks behind the store. Don’t worry. She’ll be all right. I left her with plenty of blood and a couple of no nonsense fashion tips.

It was around 5:00 p.m. when I heard my front door open. I ran, well shimmied, downstairs and there was Evan, home early.

“Nice costume,” he said, dropping his bag with a thud.

“Oh thanks, I’m a mermaid.” I gave him a hug that hardly felt reciprocated.

“Really? I thought you were a vampire.” He pulled away and gave a small smile.

I adjusted my seashells. “Oh, right. I’ve always loved your sarcasm.”

He sat on the couch and folded his hands in his lap. “Guess what, my dear Libby. We’re having a party. Tonight.”

“Uh, what?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already invited everyone. Some co-workers, some friends. I went through your phone contacts to make sure I got everyone.”

“My phone contacts?” Crap. Why was I stupid enough to have Nerdo Vamp and Brian in there?

Garlic cloves

Image courtesy Crispin Semmens via Flickr

He pointed to his bag sitting by the door. “I even got some chips and dip. It’s garlic. Everyone loves garlic.” He looked at his watch and then back at me. “People should be arriving any minute.”

I began to freak out. I tried to protest, make excuses. Evan just kept saying something along the lines of: “Well, Libby, is there a reason we can’t have a party? Is there something you need to tell me? You better say something before everyone gets here.”

My brain scrambled to come up with something. I was usually a great liar.

Then the doorbell rang. It was Zed. Zed from the Yoga Spot dressed as a marijuana leaf.

Evan ran to the door and greeted the leaf. “The wine goes in the kitchen,” he said.

“Uh, okay.” Zed slipped through the door and started toward the kitchen. “Bummer, am I the first one here?”

“Yep,” I said, giving Evan the nastiest look I could.

Zed came back into the living room looking confused. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise party.”

“Well it still is.” I took Zed’s arm. “I’m surprised. Come on. Let’s get you a glass of wine.”

The doorbell rang again and I hoped it was one of Evan’s friends. Or not. I wasn’t sure what to hope for.

I peeked around the corner. Now Nerdo Vamp, Brian and Mr. Brown Eyes were all standing at the door. That’s when I knew Evan knew. He was on his third attempt at inviting them in, without actually inviting them in.

“Please come in,” I yelled from the kitchen.

Nerdo Vamp rounded the corner and whispered in my ear.

I replied under my breath, “He knows.”

“Knows what?” Evan said loudly. “That you’ve been talking to animals and having an affair with this vampire?” He pointed at Brian.

The room went silent. Zed was the first to speak up. “Dude. He’s not a vampire. He’s like a zombie or something.”

“Goblin,” Brian corrected him.

Nerdo Vamp cleared his throat. “Well, everyone, it seems Libby and her husband have some personal matters to attend to.” He took Zed and led him out of the kitchen. “We should give them some privacy, don’t you think?”

Brian squeezed my arm on the way out and whispered, “Call me.”

So then Evan and I had the talk. At first he seemed to take it okay, but then the truth finally settled in. It’s one thing to think you know something and another for it to be confirmed. He left around 10:30. Said he needed time to think and be alone.

He left still believing I was having an affair. Probably because he was once a cheater. It’s hard when you’ve broken someone’s trust. You end up certain they’ll do the same to you.

Pirate

Image courtesy Frank Kovalchek via Flickr

So, I went to the bar and had a few drinks. I didn’t call Brian. I drank alone. After a sexy alligator won the costume contest, I went outside and fed on my pirate. He was tasty, but almost too intoxicated to hold himself upright. I left him next to the dumpster and walked home, stumbling over my fishtail.

There was a note taped to the front door. It was from Evan. I put it on the coffee table and went to bed.

And now that I’ve taken my ibuprofen and forced like a gallon of water down my throat, I’m ready to read it. It said that he had a secret too. He was going to tell me last night, but lost the courage. He wanted to meet at the Waffle House at 1:00 p.m. How considerate. He must have known I’d be too hung over to meet any earlier.  And I do love waffles.

**Why not start the series from the beginning? Click here to read about Libby’s first day as a vampire**

Evan’s post – I won’t be kept in the dark any longer

My wife is a vampire. And I’ve known for some time. Because I know when she is lying. I might be a frat boy turned investment banker, but I’m not stupid.

Courtesy SickestFame via Flickr

Courtesy SickestFame via Flickr

She was lying the first time we met, that day by the lockers, when she was harassing my sister. Her nose crinkled up and her eyes searched for a believable story. She was beautiful. A beautiful liar.

I’m not mad. I’m not. I’m frustrated. Why do our lives have to be a charade, an act hidden behind a perfectly constructed façade? I’m tired of it. But she never seems to grow weary, at least that I can tell. She goes on, day to day, like everything is a damn 80’s sitcom.

Then there’s her “friend” that keeps coming by. I’m assuming he’s a vampire too. Maybe he’s the one who turned her or maybe he’s just some guy she met at a vampire potluck. Either way I’m not happy about it. But what can I do? I couldn’t control her when she was human. And now I feel even more powerless. Trapped in my own world of lies and now hers.

But I love her. I always will. As long as she lets me. As long as time and circumstance allow me.

We’ll get through this. I know we will. She’s my Libby. She’s the reason I became who I am. She’s the reason I keep fighting. She’s the reason I lie, the reason I keep secrets–mine, hers and ours.

I guess it could be worse. At least she’s not leaving dead bodies everywhere. I already pay Lucille far more than she’s worth to scrub a toilet and mop some floors. I can’t imagine the fee for dead body removal.

Courtesy Sam Pullara via Flickr

Courtesy Sam Pullara via Flickr

I do have a plan though–for Halloween night. Secrets are going to be shared. I’m dead set on it.

**Why not start the series from the beginning? Click here to read about Libby’s first day as a vampire**

Libby’s Post – I chose the zoo over the mall, I must be bored

Courtesy of FotoSleuth via Flickr

Courtesy of FotoSleuth via Flickr

On Wednesday we went out again. Brian picked me up this time, arriving in a shiny BMW sedan–a car far cooler than he ever was. The car was freezing when I got in and the cold leather shocked my bare thighs. I pulled my shorts down to protect what skin I could.

“Why is like Antarctica in here?” I asked trying to smooth the goose bumps on my arms.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied turning the AC setting from ‘wicked ice age’ to ‘a polar bear would probably still be comfortable’. “I guess I just run hot.”

We were on our way to the zoo. A place I hadn’t been since I was 12. It was Brian’s idea. He called me up yesterday and asked if I wanted to go.

My new vampire life oddly seeming more boring than my human one, I figured it was the zoo with Brian or another shopping trip to Nordys, alone.

I’ll be honest; things have been kind of sucky since I turned. I can’t tell anyone my secret, not my husband, my best friend Emme or even Zed at the Yoga Spot, who by the way, has been super psyched by my recent performance in class.

I also have to regularly suck on strangers’ necks and you all know how I feel about that. And I’ve been forced into this whole Lost Colony drama with Emme. And what do I think about history? BORING.

So that is how my days have been spent: a little yoga, some blood sucking, a trip to the mall, more blood sucking and then a visit to Emme’s house to hear her blabber on about that stupid colony. And I have to pretend to be interested. God, I am such a good friend.

Courtesy Chris Christner via Flickr

Courtesy Chris Christner via Flickr

Brian led me through the turnstile and stopped in front of the snack shop.

“Not more pizza,” I said, pretending to gag.

He grabbed my arm and yanked me inside. “No, even better. They have nachos, with that liquid cheese.”

Courtesy Gabriel Flores Romero via Flickr

Courtesy Gabriel Flores Romero via Flickr

A few minutes later we walked past the camels and into a section with all sorts of antelopey like things. Brian ate his nachos and I drank my cherry slushie.

“So, how have you been holding up?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Are you sure? Because last week I told you that you were marked for death.”

Courtesy Rob Bulmahn via Flickr

Courtesy Rob Bulmahn via Flickr

I stopped to read about one of the striped antelopey things. It was a Lesser Kudo. “Yep, I’m sure. Thanks for the warning though.”

“Libby,” he stood squarely in front of me, his eyes boring into mine, “I told you someone is trying to kill you and you aren’t the slightest bit concerned?”

“Uh, I am concerned,” my eyes focused on the tray of soggy tortilla chips, “but it’s not something I want you to worry about.”

“How, can I not worry? You’re my friend.” He kept talking but my mind wandered.

I wanted to tell him. Tell him everything I knew. Tell him this was all much bigger than he could imagine. But I didn’t want to put him danger. Erasmus was dead set on getting his way. It didn’t matter who died along the way.

“Libby, are you even listening?” Brian waved his nacho tray in the air and leaned his face close to mine.

“Um, sort of.”

“It’s all a joke, Libby. I made it up.”

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean a joke?”

“After I became a vampire I sort of found everyone who was involved that night and got back at them. Nothing terrible. Just some practical jokes.”

Courtesy Martin Pettitt via Flickr

Courtesy Martin Pettitt via Flickr

“And my practical joke was to tell me I’m going to be killed.”

He started toward the giraffes, talking under his breath. But I could still hear him. “It probably wasn’t the best idea. It’s just hard to freak out a vampire. You have to go a little bigger. I was going to tell you right then and there, as soon as you freaked out, but you never did. Then I waited for you to call and you never did. So, here we are.” His eyes got all puppy dog like.  “I’m sorry, Libby.”

“So you added my initials to that tree?”

“All of the trees.”

“All of the initials, on all the trees?”

He stopped and looked to the ground. “There is no burial ground back there. I made it all up.”

“Wow,” I tried not to laugh. “You must be even more bored than I am.”

“I do have a lot of time on my hands.”

He chucked the plastic nacho container in the trash. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

I handed him my empty slushie cup. “I don’t know about mad, but you’d better watch your back. I can be vindictive.” I stood back and tried to look sinister.

We went from one exhibit to the next, talking (quietly of course) about what he’d learned so far about being a vampire. I tried to stay focused on his stories, but one thought kept creeping back into my mind–Brian’s confession only changed one thing: my burial site.

**Why not start the series from the beginning? Click here to read about Libby’s first day as a vampire**