A Scared Writer Runs This Blog

Sterling looked at the table, where a person was having an animated conversation with a statue. He couldn’t get a better look, all he could tell was that whoever they were, they were quite… small. “The little one over there? Did you not hear me? I need-”

“I heard you plenty fine,” the guild master snorted, “and I told you who you’d need. No one else here will take something like that, so she’s the best you can do. So either talk with her or get the fuck out of my guild.”

Sterling huffed before he headed for that corner. This close he could hear the grating, shrill voice of this ‘Manyboots’, chattering away to apparently no one save the terrifying statue she was sitting next to, so clearly she was crazy.

“Excuse me, I’m here to-”

“HOLY FUCK, DO YOU MIND!?”

The chair spun around and Sterling was more than a little taken aback by the sight of a hideous goblin sitting there. She had a hood over her enormous head, disproportionate to the size of her body. Even compared to goblin kind in general, she was small, probably would be barely two feet tall while standing. Her massive red eyes glared at Sterling as she shook a dirty finger in his direction. “I’m in the middle of a conversation! You can’t just waltz up here and interrupt!” she said.

“I- um-” Sterling managed to recover from the shock and he straightened himself up. “I’m here to hire you for a job, but if you keep talking back to me like that-”

The goblin cackled before taking a long swig of her beer. Wiping the foam off her mouth, she leaned in, grinning from ear to impressively large ear. “Okay, you’re forgiven. Whatcha need? Robbery? Arson? Murder that looks like suicide, or just flat out murder?”

“W-well,” Sterling cleared his throat, “my father is the great Governor van Broom, but he will not recognize me as one of his heirs as my mother was one of his maids. She died of a broken heart, and I have nothing but a pitiful clock shop to my name. I have been robbed of my birthright, and I seek revenge upon the man that abandoned my mother and…” he trailed off as he realized Manyboots had tuned him out and was back to slurping from a mug that was over half the size of her torso. “Do you mind?!”

“Huh?” Manyboots looked up. “I’m sorry, I was waiting for you to get done with the boring backstory shit.”

Right. Now he was pissed. Sterling raised his hand to slap the smirk off this stupid little beast.

“Listen here, you little-”

In a blur of gray stone Sterling’s wrist was grabbed by… the statue.

That was not a statue.

It looked like a statue, but on second look Sterling could see it blink its glowing green eyes, how it glowered at Sterling as its claws dug into his arm.

Manyboots shrieked with laughter. “Your faaaace! Man, your faaaaaaace!” she said, wiping a tear away from her eye. “Oh man, that never gets old. Garl, let him go.”

Garl cocked his head to the side and Sterling felt cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Even if Garl wasn’t actually a statue, he had a clutch like one.

“Try hitting her again, and you’ll lose more than your birthright, bitch.”

The statue released Sterling and he jumped back, clutching his bruising arm to his chest and trying to say anything, only for meaningless stammering to babble from his lips.

“Right, let’s start from the beginning.” Odra slammed her mug down on the table and stood up on the chair. “I’m Odra Manyboots, and this is Garl the Gargoyle.” She leaned in uncomfortably close, Sterling trying not to gag on the smell of rotten meat on her breath. “Listen, we don’t care why you want us to do this. All we need to know is what needs to get done, when we need to get it done, and how much you’re going to pay us. Got it?”

Sterling cleared his throat. “I get it.” He sat down next to Odra and Garl, keeping an eye on the menacing gargoyle. “There’s a caravan coming into town next week from the west, bearing my father’s insignia. There will be guards, do what you have to in order to deal with them. I don’t care what you do with most of the belongings- burn them, keep them, sell them, but I only ask that you retrieve a necklace and give it to me. It’s silver with a large sapphire at the throat. I’ll pay you one hundred gold now, and another two hundred when the job’s completed.”

Odra twisted her face before turning to Garl. “Sound like a plan?” she asked.

Garl only grunted.

Odra turned back around and gave a thumbs up. “Got it. Now scram, Like I told you earlier, we were in the middle of a conversation, and you were fucking rude to interrupt.” She shooed Sterling away before turning back to her friend, who was back to looking like a nearly normal statue. “Where was I? Oh yeah, you were inside passed out and getting your face doodled on by a bunch of bards. Which you really shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, I’m eighty percent sure a few of them wanted to jump on your stone c-”

Right, time to go. Sterling threw the initial payment on the table and practically bolted out of the door. Odra waited until he was gone before she leaned in close to Garl.

“Sooooo… how much you want to bet that the necklace he’s talking about is worth way, way more than two hundred gold?”

Garl smirked. “Safe bet, since it’s for the governor,” he agreed.

“Goodie. I’ll work on the story about not being able to find it, you’ll back me up with your scary face.”

“And what is my scary face?”

“Your scary face is your face all the time.”

Garl rolled his eyes before grabbing on Odra’s ear and roughly pulling on it.

“OW! Ow, lemme go, I’m sorry! Ouch! You’re gonna make me spill my beer, lemme gooooo!”

It happened about a week or so after her funeral. I can’t remember how long. I was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing so hard that my sister could come back. That I could crawl into her bed with her right now and tell her I loved her, that I missed her.

And then there was a knock at my window, and there she was.

She looked just the same she did at her funeral, long black hair pinned neatly back, wearing that pretty pink dress she was supposed to be wearing for a school dance she never got to go to. She smiled as I looked at her and her lips moved. Although I couldn’t hear the words, I knew what she was asking.

Can I come in?

Of course she could. I sprang to my feet and ran to the window, throwing it open and jumping into my sister’s arms. She was back! Kathie was back! I was so happy… I didn’t know. By morning, she was gone, and I would’ve believed it was a dream if my window wasn’t still open.

People didn’t talk about vampirism twenty years ago. I mean we still have trouble talking about it now. And as a little girl I didn’t know not to trust the dead coming back to see you.

I can’t remember the biting. They didn’t even leave scars, which I’m sure many of you know. I just remember my sister being in my room every night, coming to visit me, stroking my hair and letting me cry into her lap. I didn’t tell my parents, it became my little secret. Kathie came to see me, not them or my brothers. And I felt happy again.

I didn’t feel better though. I don’t blame my parents for not noticing, I did as a teenager, but as an adult, I understand they had a lot going on. They’d also lost their daughter, and they had three remaining grieving children to handle. At least I was happy enough to go back to school, even though there were signs things weren’t right. I was falling asleep in class, I had very little appetite, I became pale and more lethargic. But these were chalked up to grief, to still dealing with the loss of my sister, and no one asked any questions.

Not until I was asked to help solve a problem at the board and I fainted dead away when I stood up.

I woke up in the hospital with an IV drip and a kindly priest asking about Kathie.

It took a while for me to open up. I felt guilty, like I knew something was wrong. But Father Taggart was gently persistent, and soon I told him everything I could about Kathie’s night time visits. I’d learn later my parents were outside the room the entire time, bawling their eyes out. They’d already lost one daughter, and they were much closer than anyone knew to losing their other one.

I’ve seen other posts on the forum talking about Father Taggart, good and bad. In my experience he was- he is, very good at what he does. But he is very traditional in his method, meaning that yes, I did have to be present for Kathie’s exhumation and slaying.

I wasn’t the only little girl there. They’d confirmed Kathie had been feeding off of, including myself, four girls between the ages of six and ten. Two of the others did attend, the final one refused. I think her parents took her to a hospital out of state to be treated.

I remember they opened her coffin and the room shuddered. Kathie had been dead for over three months at that point and she looked like she’d just laid down for a nap, her body appeared that fresh. The only differences between when she’d been laid to rest and now was that her lips were crimson and the front of her pretty pink dress was spattered in blood. My mother fled the room sobbing, my dad gripped my shoulders so tight it left bruises for the next week.

Father Taggart whispered a prayer over the still body before he took the wooden stake from his coat and drove it right into her chest. I screamed and lunged forward instinctively, that was my sister, he was attacking my sister-

Kathie’s eyes opened wide and her lips parted in a feral snarl. Her fangs were so long they looked like knives. She grabbed at Father Taggart’s arm, but he was calm as he pushed the hair from her face, still saying his prayers, and pushed the stake the rest of the way in. Blood poured from Kathie’s mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head and her body went limp. Father Taggart backed away, calmly said amen.

“And now she will be burned.”

I don’t remember her being burned. Either my parents decided I didn’t need to be present or I blocked it out of my mind.

But it was still too late for me.

Thank god the other girls hadn’t been infected, I’ve read the horror stories of lawsuits aimed at the surviving family of vampires. People were angry though- furious. But my parents didn’t care about that.

After several blood tests and a bone marrow sample, the doctors confirmed I was vampirism positive. That when I died, I’d rise just like Kathie and start preying on the living, draining them of their blood and potentially passing vampirism onto them.

Things changed after that. Kathie had initially been memorialized in our home, but when I returned from the hospital, she’d been almost entirely erased from our lives. Family photos with Kathie had been taken down, her room had been packed up and her things donated, it was like she’d never existed. Some of this was, yes, suggested by Father Taggart. It’s a way to cleanse the house from the vampire’s darkness. But I think they were also angry at Kathie, and where else could that anger go?

Kids were cruel. The word spread quickly about Kathie’s disinterment, and it didn’t take long for people to figure out why. Kids called me all kinds of names, ‘blood sucker’, ‘vampire baby’, but the parents were even worse. I wasn’t invited over anymore to kid’s parties, some people even requested their children be transferred out of my class because they were scared I would pass it on.

My parents tried to explain to their friends and peers that vampirism cannot be passed on until I died, but people didn’t care. I was a threat. I was a monster in the making.

We moved the moment my dad got a new job, we went across the country, we got a fresh start. I wasn’t allowed to talk about Kathie, if I did I was sent to my room. One time my mom even slapped me across the face for bringing up that it was her birthday- she regretted it, I could tell the moment she did, but the damage was done.

Kathie wasn’t apart of our lives anymore. She wasn’t even allowed to exist.

I miss her still, quietly, but I do. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know she was vampirism positive. She never would’ve done the things she did if she was alive, if it was really her. There’s a little memorial in my home now, hidden in a closet. My parents didn’t destroy all the photos, and when I moved out, I took them with me. They’re on that memorial now. I know lots of people blame the person that infected them, and I don’t fault them that, but… I just can’t.

I’m twenty-seven now. I’ve changed my name, I’ve done my best to get on with my life. I even date, which I know is a big hang up for some vampirism positive people. But I will say, the moment I let my date know I am vampirism positive, I tend to get ghosted. They usually act nice to my face about it, but the moment I get home I see I’ve been unmatched on whatever dating site we met on and my number’s been blocked. Maybe they’re scared of how I’ll react, that I’ll suddenly sprout fangs and leap at them, those ridiculous stereotypes.

I’m here now because I have become a teacher. I teach third grade, I love it… but one of my students’ parents found out. I don’t know how exactly, but they confronted me about it last Friday after school. They screamed in my face, called me a monster, asked how I could lie to everyone about this and put their children in danger.

I sometimes doubt that myself. Maybe I am dangerous. Maybe I am a monster.

But when those thoughts creep in, I remind myself that I am taking every precaution I physically can. Right now, I am like every human being in the world. With the drugs out there today, I’ll even be able to have children and they’ll be fine. When I die, I likely won’t rise for a few days, giving plenty of time for my body to be burnt at a holy site and my ashes spread in a river. I made those arrangements when I was eighteen.

That parent will be going to the school board this week- I don’t know when. The administration does know I’m vampirism positive and they claimed they’d have my back, but this parent has a lot of pull with the other parents and even if they back me up for now, there’s no telling what will happen if this person takes this knowledge to social media. They might let me go just to stop the pitchforks and torches at their front door.

I hope my story doesn’t come off too much ‘woe is me’ or whiny. I could’ve had it a lot worse. But I just wanted to share what I’ve been through, maybe get some advice. I’m glad this place exists, and… yeah. Have a good day.

~*~

Have a good day? What a cringe ending. Tara finished off the rest of her matcha latte before clicking post. What the hell. It probably won’t get many replies. It did feel… nice to have this forum to vent on though. Her parents were avoidant as hell and she didn’t want to bother her brothers about it.

Vent over, she was going to use her Sunday to clean, clean, clean. No better stress relief in the world. Dishes were scrubbing spotless, carpet was vacuumed, her cat Cammy was brushed until her long fur was as soft as cotton. She’d all but forgotten about her post until that evening, when she was lounging in bed and checking her email.

Wow… that was a lot of notifications from the vampostive forum. Way more than she expected. Her heart rate nervously climbing, Tara clicked onto the first one from HeIsNotUndeadYet91.

Your story is a powerful one. It’s so much harder to cope when the vampire was someone you knew. Mine was my dad. He’d fed on me for almost six months before people figured out why I was sick. You’re not alone, TeachingWithVamp. You have done nothing wrong, and you’re a good person.

Tears sprouted in Tara’s eyes as she started scrolling through the replies

IwontBiteYouYet: Wow!!! What a coward to just chase you down after school to yell at you. They might’ve gotten that info illegally, you gotta figure out where the leak is and get. a. lawyer. Your medical information is YOUR business.

OddBiter: I always get ghosted too. But hey it could be worse- you could be dead lol. In all seriousness, hang in there. You’re going above and beyond to have yourself cremated and scattered in a river, and you are not a threat right now. The only threat is that crazy Karen who’s trying to out you.

CrimsonBeeKeeper: If you need a lawyer, I have a list of lawyers that specialize in vamp positive clients and the prejudice they face. I bust them out whenever I see situations like this. Don’t back down, you’re a fighter, keep fighting!

GothandalsoVampire: Gooodddd, times like this I really do wish I could be a vampire NOW so I could scare some sense into them. These people are uneducated on purpose, a google search tells you how not dangerous a vamp positive person is while alive. Hell, even if you dropped dead in class you’d be just a corpse until at LEAST nightfall. And I’d hope you’d be discovered by then otherwise the school district has a lot more problems than you being vampositive.

666Vampire666(Mod): You Are Not Alone. Remember that. We’re building a community online for us, so we can talk openly about these problems. Make sure to check that resource tab for groups local to your area as well as legal sources to help with illegal termination due to ableism. It’s a hard fight being us, but we are HERE, and this curse doesn’t go away by ignoring it. It goes away by education and by being true to yourself.

Tears came down Tara’s cheeks until she couldn’t cry anymore. But her chest felt lighter, better. Things were going to be crazy next week when that parent went to the board, but she didn’t feel so scared anymore.

I’m not alone.