Vampires and Republic of Ireland just don't go together. With the laid back and friendly manner, not to say the lilting accent that has the sound of honey, of the Southern Irish how can anyone imagine them as callous vampires? Which is why, when my train was delayed, I decided to write a short story about an Irish vampire who is quite a nice guy really but doesn't seem to realise that actions have consequences. So meet Paddy and his friends Seamus, Mick and Donal.
The clock alarm went off and Paddy opened, reluctantly, his eyes and slowly adjusted them to the dimly lit bedroom. He glanced to the side and when he realised the bed was empty, save for him, he wondered what had happened to the nubile, 19 year old twin sisters he'd brought home with him the previous evening. He heard some giggling and, looking in the opposite direction, saw them sat at the table. Each snorting the line of coke in front of them. So that was the bonus of the previous evening. He'd turned them into druggies. He'd soon have them out on the streets earning for him.
"Are you ready for breakfast, Paddy? Bacon, eggs, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, and hash browns okay?"
He nodded, and then staggered to his feet. "I can't remember your names," he said.
"Mary and Molly Malone," one of the girls replied.
"Which one's which?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter, we come as a package deal anyway," said the one who had got out of her seat and gone to the cooker.
"I need a drink," said Paddy walking over to her. He took hold off her hair and pulled it back, exposing her neck and showing the two small bite marks he had left the night before. He leaned down and sank his teeth into her youth and sweetness, drinking once more the red liquid he desired and needed. She moaned in ecstasy as he drank, but only enough to take the edge off his thirst.
As a vampire there are two ways you can take a victim's blood. The first is to take it all in one go. But that results in the victim being dead. No more supply of blood. Sometimes that is the best way, particularly if you are really thirsty. Dying of thirst, if you'll excuse the pun. The second way is to just take a little blood. That means you can have a regular supply handy for quite a while. I say quite a while because draining someone's blood, even over a long term, had a debilitating effect on the body and its immune system. So, even if you've begun to think of them as a friend, sooner or later they've gone. Nobody lives forever. Unless, of course, you're a vampire.
There is a third way. Sink your fangs into her, or his, neck and draw a little more blood than you would from someone you wanted to be a regular supplier. Instead of drinking and then removing yourself hold the bite for longer without actually drawing any more blood. If she, or he, has an affinity with the dark lord they will become a vampire themselves.
Mary and Molly fell into the second category. But on the bright side they would be able to fuck Paddy as much as they wanted, except when he was busy out in the town looking for new prospects. Being only 19, and fit, they would last longer than many others. Also, being twins, they would probably only be blood donors every other day.
"Can we fuck after breakfast?" asked Mary. Or was it Molly?
Paddy peered out at the city of Dublin through the chink in the blinds, saw it was already dark, and reluctantly told them. "I don't really have time girls, I'm running late as it is." He looked at their crestfallen faces and relented. "Okay, but they will have to be quickies."