"Mr. Lorcan, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to talk with you."

"The pleasure is all mine, madam, and please, call me Nikolas," he responded, voice smooth as silk.

I smiled. "As you wish, Nikolas."

He guided me to the living room, where we sat down on beautifully-crafted chairs. I couldn't help but to admire the high-quality furniture and dark antiques in the room.

"Might we start the interview?" I asked, snapping back to the current situation.

"Of course," he answered, never taking his eyes off of me.

"Name?" I asked, pulling my writing pad and pen out of my satchel.

"Nikolas Damien Lorcan."

I repeated his name, earning a flash of interest in his eyes. I continued, "Age?"

"284," He responded. My pen slowed, and I confirmed his date of birth.

"Now on to the more entertaining part of this interview, Nikolas. Why do you claim to be a vampire?"

"Because I am, and I wouldn't lie to you, my dear," he smiled. A glint behind his eye made my hand twitch.

"Are you harmed by the sun? Can you turn into a bat?"

He laughed, the sound strong and confident and going straight through me. "I am weakened by the sun, yes, but I think you have been reading too many stories."

"Yes, w-well..." I stuttered, a feeling of unease rising in me. "What do you eat?"

"Meat. Raw, but usually blood will sustain me. Animal is fine, but human is the best."

I looked up from my pad of paper. Chills ran up my spine as goosebumps appeared on my arms. He was still staring into my eyes. I hadn't seen him blink this entire time... and his posture was impossibly perfect.

I swallowed nervously, the lump of spit almost sticking in my dry throat. My legs had a mind of their own and stood.

"Perhaps we should start to finish. It is getting late." I tried to move away.

"You want to leave so soon? The night has just began, my dear." He smiled a wicked smile.

I blinked and he was suddenly in front of me, causing me to stumble back out of shock. Before I could his the ground, I felt his arms wrap around me.

He pulled me against his darkly-clothed chest and I could feel the cold of his hands seeping through my clothing.

I tried to speak, but there was something that had me caught in his gaze. His eyes of storm grey began showing spots of molten lava and warm gold. I couldn't look away from the mesmerizing sight.

He started to move out of my field of vision and I couldn't stop myself from shouting. "No! Don't leave, please."

He chuckled. "My darling. After 284 years, I will no longer be alone, and you get to be my lucky bride."

"What?" I breathed out, before I felt a quick, sharp pain in my neck.

We sealed the night with a bloody kiss, then, darkness.

We sit across from one another at an expensive dining room table in a swanky high rise. I'm pretty sure if the curtains weren't closed, there would be a killer view of Central Park.

Between us is my digital voice recorder, and an analog backup.

After I had modest success with a couple of fictionalized true crime books that became semifamous podcasts, this lady set up an interview at her place. It's just the two of us. She sips from a Yeti stainless steel tumbler and stares at me over the rim. I shift in my seat and swirl my Jameson's in fancy crystal. She smiles through glistening teeth. She licks away a pink sheen and I don't for a second forget what she is, because the scariest monsters are beautiful.

"I can tell you're nervous." Her voice is a whisper of delight and damnation. "I'm fascinated by your work; I'm surprised you accepted my invitation."

"I couldn't resist my chance to follow Rice's footsteps."

She scoffs. "Anne had many things wrong, but enough was right that I'm sure she was acquainted with the family."

Some family. They never hesitate to fuck each other over as much as they fuck each other.

She continues. "I found the conclusions of your first novel fascinating. It was masterful how you implied supernatural causes without expressly embracing them."

"You mean vampires, and there's nothing super about you."

She tries to hide her shock. "Go on," she grins like a crocodile.

"I know you know."

"You were visited by my cousins."

"You're all related in a way, which makes your swinger parties the weirdest family reunions outside Alabama."

She laughs, and the throaty chuckle stirs me in ways I'm not comfortable being stirred.

I shift in my seat, nodding. "I've met your kind before."

"It's interesting that shortly after you were...advised...to point your book towards obvious fiction, my cousin disappeared."

"I'm sorry for the loss of your lover."

Her eyes narrow. "Even rabbits scratch and bite when cornered."

"Maybe I'm no ordinary rabbit."

When she laughs again, fear lances up my spine.

"Why'd you come here?"

"I'd like to have my own spin on the interview."

"For whom?"

"Maybe just my blog."

"Have you ever considered dreaming bigger?"

She steps from behind the table and peeks outside.

As fancy as this apartment is, it's missing something that most people wouldn't notice. This table, that china cabinet sitting over to my left, the drawers in the kitchen, none of it has silver.

The only sterling in the house is in the Glock I empty into her turned back.

Just like that, she went from thinking about eating me to turning her back and dying at my feet.

I calmly reload.

The recorder is rolling, so I savor an action-movie moment; I decide to forgive myself the cliche.

"I dream of a world where the dead stay dead," I declare before giving her what remains of thirty pieces of silver. "Nothing super at all," I mumble.

After the third question was answered, I chewed the eraser on my pencil nervously and tried to focus my gaze anywhere but on that bloodthirsty, hideous face of yours. You had just told me your story about how you had become a vampire not only to be with your high school crush - who was also, undeniably, a vampire - but also to get revenge on humankind for abandoning you in your most dire time of need, and, more importantly, the sun for burning your closest friends to death only the month before this ill-fated interview with me - a human, nonetheless.

Why did I decide to interview a vampire in the first place? Oh wait, that's right - I badly wanted that raise from my boss that would save my own financial situation at home. I can't screw this up. Not now - not towards the end of this conference with you.

"So, uh, final question!" I blurted out hastily, not wanting my blood stolen from my pale, shivering body, "What do you plan to do now, after this?"

"What do you mean?" you say, with a tone of something I could not place. Desperation, maybe? Or impatience? Whatever it was, it was making my skin crawl.

"I mean, after you walked into this room to talk to me about your appointment-slash-interview; after you had previously sucked the life out of the cameraman outside...?"

I knew right away that was the worst question possible to ask you - that was a fatal mistake of mine. You started giggling at first, then chuckling, and then finally bursting out into a hysterical fit of maniacal laughter.

"Oh, the answer to your delightful, little query is simple, my human pet," you sneered as your evil laughter came to an end a minute later. "I plan to do what I said earlier, of course; to be rid of all humans and that ghastly, blistering sun so my sweetheart, the other vampires, and I can rule over all of Earth and cast it into an inescapable, eternal nightfall."

I finally glanced at your face. A vile grin was plastered across your face and scarlet-red blood dropped from one of your long, vampire fangs.

"And my plan starts by...DEVOURING YOU!"

With that remark, you lunged for me, seeking refreshment from your irresistible thirst. I attempted to escape out of the front door of the journalism office, but you had sent bats to block my only exit.

And with that, you clasped my body with your cold, boney fingers and sunk your teeth into my shoulder. I felt my entire world fading into darkness as I shrieked with pain from you absorbing one of my only connections to the living world.

And here I am now. Dead. And warning the population from the other dimension to stay away from you. To never make friends with you. To never even talk to you.

You're dangerous. You proved it by taking over my home.

You will pay someday.

I’d been waiting for an hour, nursing a cognac. The dim bar had no patrons – only the bartender and I just as he'd requested. The man known only as Luca, claiming to be a vampire, was late. It was my big chance in an otherwise lame career to interview a so-called creature of darkness, but right now, I was irritated. Weren’t vampires punctual?

Suddenly, the hairs on the nape of my neck rose. I turned and watched a tall, lean, and darkly suited man enter the bar, his swagger (the only word that came to mind) reminiscent of a Hollywood actor from the Golden Age.

He didn’t look at me until after he’d settled on the barstool beside mine, but at that point, I became the focus of his penetrating and hypnotic gaze. An onslaught of emotions filled me. His ice, blue eyes pulled at something in the very pit of my stomach. He didn’t blink, didn’t move, and I knew he could see straight to my soul. I felt naked and exposed, every secret divulged. I had to remember to breathe. Seated so close to me, I could see the delicacy of his skin, white as milk, yet richly opaque – his dark lashes and the blue of his eyes in stark contrast to it. His lips were full, strong, and wore no trace of a smile. The man exuded a wealth of confidence and was strangely, uniquely beautiful.

Mesmerized, I heard the loud crescendo of my own heartbeat. As if he heard it, too, his gaze dropped, focusng on my neck. At least I’d worn a turtleneck that afforded some small measure of…. protection? I desperately hoped so.

With purpose, he leaned so close I could feel his breath. “Lavender,” his voice broke the silence, reverberating and hanging in the air.

Shaken from my momentary trance, I managed, “Excuse me?”

A faint smile crossed his lips. “Your skin. It smells of lavender.”

Confusion surfaced. A multitude of questions swept through my mind like particles of sand in a windstorm. Did he just say my skin smelled like lavender? How could he know? I had bathed the previous evening in lavender bathwater, but tonight I wore no such scented oil or perfume. My thoughts drifted to the rosemary and mint shampoo I’d also used……

Before I could complete the thought, and as if he’d read my mind, he reached out his hand to touch a wisp of a curl against my neck. I shivered. Was it fear or excitement coursing through my body at his touch?

He continued, his words deliberate. “But here, right here, there is the slightest hint of rosemary and mint.” I could tell he knew the effect the timbre of his voice and the words he spoke had. I was unable to form a coherent thought beyond wondering if this man was truly a creature of the night. Had I entered a world of no return? Intrigued, I wanted to know more. Much more.

Me and my bright ideas. This fucker's looking at me the way a cop looks at a box of donuts. I better go full Bugs Bunny on this undead fuck if I want to get out of this without becoming a human Slurpee.

Me: I gotta ask Vlad, how do you keep your undead status a secret?

Vlad: Ahh good question. We vampires are creatures of shadow existing where mortals do not look. You mortals foolishly walk into our traps like the mindless cattle you are.

Me: That's not what I meant, Vlad. You Fucking smell like a dead cow bloating in the summer sun. Shit, I could smell you from a mile away. I would thing existing in the shadows only works when the shadow is showered and uses some deodorant. Geez, haven't you ever heard of deodorant? Gotta be hard surprising anyone smelling like that.

Vlad: YOU DARE INSULT ME? I am Nosferatu, the living dead! I will...

Me (shrugs): Yeah whatever. I now understand why you don't cast a reflection in the mirror. Anything as ugly as you would traumatize the mirror into catatonia. Who woulda thought Hollywood had it soooo wrong? Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise as vampires? Fuck! Danny DeVito is a male model compared to your pasty faced, beady eyed, Spock eared ass!

Vlad (slams hand down on table): I am done being polite. I was going to turn you so you could join me as a creature of the night. NOW YOU WILL SUFFER BEFORE YOU DIE!

Me (holding up a placating hand): Trust me, Drac, looking at you is torture enough. Where did you get your clothes? Bela Lugosi's garage sale? You know malls are open past sundown, right? Fuck, dust off the old credit card and upgrade your duds. I mean, your wardrobe screams 16th century male prostitute.

Vlad: Silence! NO ONE insults me!

Me: Geez! Defensive a little? Why're you so uptight? Oh, I bet I know. You probably haven't impaled a lady with Little Vlad since the Renaissance. Am I right? Or, maybe Little Vlad doesn't rise from the dead anymore? Not sure if the good folks at Pfizer thought about vamps when they came up with Viagra. Must be a bitch being a stiff that can't get a stiffy.

Vlad (standing up): Enough! Prepare to die!

Me (bluffing): I don't think so, tall, dreary, and ugly. Before I came here I ate a pizza with extra garlic, garlic bread, and washed it down with holy water. Biting me would be very bad for your health.

Vlad (surprise on his pasty face): How dare you! I agree to an interview.....

Me (standing): Only because you wanted to drain me you sick fucker! Dawn is just a minute away so, I'm outta here.

Vlad: (growling): If we ever meet again...

Me: IF we meet again, please shower first. Hey, you wanna be a real blood sucker, think about law school and becoming a divorce lawyer. Now, that's a blood sucker.

Someone will be on the other side of that mirror- stay 18 inches of chain away from him. He bothers you- just stand up and take a few steps back- we will end the meeting. I suggest you be wise and not stupid with your press privileges here. Keep that pen out of reach, too."

"Got it- I'm all set, thanks"

Metal door opens, shuffling of feet, clamoring of chains and locks- the guards closed the door on the way out after announcing "...15 minutes...".

"I'm here from underground psych, you approved a request to be interviewed last month?"

"Yeah"

"Can you tell me what made you agree to an interview after three years of silence?"

"I was evolving, I am ready to be heard."

"Go on."

"I prefer to be asked questions, and don't forget- tick tock"

The two sat looking at one another.

"Okay then. In your last hearing, it was announced that you have changed your name to 'Vampire Blood' is this your way of announcing you now identifying as a vampire?

As a follow up to that- do you feel your timing of this name change being so close to your appeal for reversal on the death penalty due to not being 'mentally fit'..." he leaned in and a pressed hush finished, "... isn’t absolutely full on dumb ass stupid?" a smirk outlined his words.

"You seem pleased. Do I disgust you?"

"You do, and to be honest I get to write this article however I want, that is called freedom, which I have and you Mr. Vampire Cud will never know again- you sycophant, pervert, dumbass. Everyone knows you killed five people and you may be stupid but you are NOT insane." He kept himself leaned in while he antagonized... peeking every few seconds to make sure the guard was unaware of his antics.

"Are you done?" His back was to the mirrored wall- he deranged his face, "do I look like anything other than a vampire right now boy?" holding his face crumpled and partially sticking his tongue out; "thos this thook thike I'm sthane now boy?" he snarled in a thick voice.

Clearly a bit shaken, his pupils widened in a moment of fear- but doubling down- "You don't scare me dead man, you are the least immortal vampither that ever was", he goaded leaning in to appear unscathed emotionally.

Just at that second, one loud jump of chains broke the hushed room as the man opened his mouth wide and head-butted the reporter with one quick strike busting his forehead open, bit the side of his own bottom lip off, and sprayed a hard blast of his own blood into the younger man's face and open wound.

In an attempt to stand, but horrified - his body flew up and backwards falling to the floor. "Pretty sure I do know how that article will read, better make that 6 though; hep C positive... 45 minutes to the infirmary from where we are."

"So, am I the first reporter you've told your story to."

"No, I've told several. The story just never seems to make it on air," she said.

I stared at Ms. Romana in shock. There is no way this wouldn't make news. As I looked at her, she had a sly grin on her face that led me to believe she was hiding something from me. There was more to this story than she was telling me, and I just had to know.

"Ms. Romana, how has this not gone public? This is an amazing story! You even have old documents, artifacts, and photos to recall past events! Look, I even did some digging, your face is even in this photo of the Titanic I found, and here you are at the 1936 Olympic games, here you are at Woodstock, and you even have a picture with Elvis. You're the real d---!"

Before I could even finish my sentence, Ms. Romana leaped over the coffee table in the blink of an eye and placed her hand over my mouth. I was frozen in place; her eyes had changed from a light green to a deep red, and her nails, which were once polished and filed flat, were now sharp and burrowing into my cheek. But for some reason, I wasn't afraid. It was as if her gaze was telling my body that everything would be okay and that this was supposed to happen.

"Where did you find those photos?" she asked.

"I ran your face through a global database and found a few look-a-likes that seemed to match, but those were too close for comfort, so I brought em with me."

"You're the first person to actually believe my story and find proof that I haven't already retrieved and hidden. Nevertheless, the outcome will be the same," she replied angrily.

In classic vampire fashion, she sunk her teeth into my neck and began to do exactly what was in her nature. And there I was, powerless to resist. All I could do was sit there a die calmly. As the passing moments began to go by, I thought to myself. "Why would I come meet a vampire alone at their own home?" Well, that's obvious. Because before today, I had no idea they were real. I just thought I was meeting another nut case and brought my gun just in case. But what good is a gun against a hypnotizing vampire that fucked Elvis?

Luna always had a fascination, an obsession, with vampires. She'd read history, folklore, novels with vampire heroes - or anti-heroes. Her perennial Halloween costume included plastic fangs. The weekly comic she wrote for her college paper was about Chip the Frat Bro who only came out at night.

She was a vampirophile.

The first job she sought out of college was as the assistant to the night editor of The Daily Observer, Viktor Knight. He was also the owner of the newspaper. He rarely, if ever, came to the office, submitting reviews, edits and the occasional editorial via a high security Dropbox. He had a reputation as a taskmaster who was never satisfied and went through assistants like a deck of cards. Literally, one a week. Each signed an NDA that kept them silent on all things regarding Viktor Knight and The Daily Observer lest they find themselves ruined professionally, financially and socially. Some found new positions in other departments or at other papers. Some left journalism. A few relocated. A handful fell off the grid entirely..

If asked about their time as Mr. Knight's assistant, the response was the same for each, verbatim, concise and immediate: he's a great guy but I couldn't keep up with his pace.

Luna had heard about the recluse while in college and had wanted to work for him ever since she'd decided he must be a vampire. She'd noted: he only worked at night; was rarely if ever seen and then only after sunset; was never photogrpahed. She was convinced he was of the undead variety and she wanted to meet him. Even more, she wanted to work for him. He was a brilliant writer with a pithy style that was both biting and humorous. She wanted to learn from him and was determined to buck the trend of weekly dismissals.

"So, Chip the Frat Bro?"

Luna wanted to sink through the floor.

"You've heard of it?"

"I didn't miss a week. Quite entertaining."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Yes, I was hoping your obvious interest in creatures of the night might send you my way. Unlike your many predecessors, you actually have talent."

"Um, thank you, but, obvious interest?"

He smiled and her stomach flipped.

"Instagram? Facebook? Twitter? Threads? You've been immersed in the lore since your first post a decade ago."

She blanched. "You look at social media?"

"When I have good reason."

At this point Luna realized he'd left his seat behind the desk and was sitting on it right in front of her. His eyes were like warm honey and she felt herself losing her train of thought.

"I've been waiting for someone like you for a very long time."

"Like me."

"Beautiful, bright, talented and, most importantly, unafraid of my kind."

"Your kind."

He held her gaze and Luna stood by unspoken request. He reached a hand to caress her cheek.

"You will be the best of assistants Luna."

"Yes, Viktor," she replied as he leaned towards her neck.