Welcome, my dear, welcome. Peace be with you as you enter my lair–excuse me, my store.
Isn't it a pleasant evening? Just the right temperature: not too cold, not too warm. I can see you're a little cold, would you like a glass of brandy? Port? No? How about a cup of tea? I have some excellent blends from India.
Of course, I drink tea, don't be silly. Who drinks only one kind of beverage? I love good Turkish coffee, and dry martinis as well, from time to time. Ha, ha, you've done your homework. Of course, I'd just as soon impale a Turk on an eight foot pike as look at him, but their coffee is the finest in the world. Perhaps that's why they were put on this planet. Of course, since they no longer have an Empire, perhaps they've mellowed. I'm not going to go find out.
Now, please be seated in this very comfortable chair and make yourself at home. I can tell what you're thinking, although God forbid I should be psychic. When you've lived as long as I have, you can fill in the gaps more readily. Think of me as Sherlock Holmes at the age of 2000. I can tell you are 43 years of age, you are here under an assumed hair color, you are married, have four children: three boys and a girl, hope to meet your Internet pen pal soon for some creative infidelity. . . I'm sorry, but I can't tell you how I know all these things. Too many indicators, I'm afraid. You are searching for meaning in life, but of course, so many are these days. Such a pity, such a pity. Of course, your secrets are safe with me.
You're still trembling and it's not from the chill. Look, it's not often I grant an interview, so I want to see you live through this as much as you do. Immortality isn't all its cracked up to be. Oh, I still enjoy it, but there are really very few old vampires, almost none from my generation. Afterlife palls eventually, one runs out of original things to do, and one loses the fear of seeing God face to face. No–Barbara, right? No, I won't go farther than that: I know atheism is popular these days, and my kind is supposed to be deathly afraid of Him in all His manifestations, but you will have to work that out on your own.
If it makes you feel better, my brother Vlad would have been happy to drink every drop of your blood, leave your broken body for the neighborhood to discover, and greet you when you rose from the tomb after your funeral. Vlad was always too much of a show off: no wonder he came to a bad end in England. I have a connoisseur's taste: I happen to prefer a virgin in their late teens or early twenties. Don't laugh, there are still a few around, even this far from civilization. No, gender doesn't matter, but girls are better. No, I don't drink them dry, either. That's how I keep my svelte frame: just a little harmless sip from time to time; she goes back to her little home in excellent health. I like being under the radar. Hordes of villagers with torches outraged at the death of an innocent always give me the willies. And science indicates it's good for you to give some blood from time to time; healthy and cleansing for the system. Blood donorship is good for the donor as well as the recipient. No, I don't store blood, cold blood is appalling to drink.
Oh, I go as far back as anyone. I called Vlad my brother, but I've been around millennia longer. My original name was Sextus, my father was Ovid, the Latin poet exiled to modern day Romania. Yes, I was bitten by a vampire, repeatedly, and drank her blood as well. Cassandra was her name, and you look a little bit like her. Maybe she was your distant ancestor. Oh yes, I had a family when I was an ordinary human: two wives, fifteen children of various kinds, grandchildren. I kept track of them as long as I could, but after four generations it took too much of my time. Vampires aren't very sentimental creatures.
Cassandra came from ancient Troy. Yes, that Cassandra, and no, I'm not going to give you any inside info about that story. It doesn't matter after all this time, anyway. Trust me, it doesn't: you're just going to have to trust my judgement. Of course, I find some of the misconceptions that have sprung up through the years hilarious, but it's no profit to me to set the story straight. As if I could without breaking cover.
Do my friends call me Sex? Very, very droll indeed. What wit you have my dear. Do you always enjoy teasing the piranhas, playing with sharks?
There are lot of misconceptions about vampires, of course. I'm not going sunbathing, but if I stay out of direct sunlight at midday, there are no problems. With this current Internet age, I can stay inside all day and no one is the wiser. No, I don't like running water, but it's not like I dissolve if submerged. Sometimes I have to go in the water: it's the surest way to dispose of an inconvenient automobile. There are old mines that no one knows of near here, and an overlook where a too traceable car can be propelled to the depths of the lake. I hate that: it takes a week to dry out completely, and the waterlogged feeling is extremely unpleasant. Yes, I drive it down the ramp, how else are you going to be sure it's gone for good? No, I'm not talking about getting rid of innocent victims, just malicious adversaries. I don't kill my lovers, but those who cross my purposes, beware!
I love the romance of love and the delicate chase of seduction. Goodness no, I don't bat a thousand, who does? What's the fun of making them comply, tell me? It's not like I let my appetites drive me: this generation is too focused on instant gratification. I know, it makes seduction easier, but I'm not interested in material girls. Delayed gratification is so much better, if you only have the patience. I have lots of practice and lots of patience, that's what works. Wiling submission, time after time, faithfulness to commitment: they are as sweet as the nectar from their veins. No, I assure you, you're safe. Put every care from your mind, I beg you.
Yes, I have some nice pieces here. I've always been a shopkeeper of some kind, and I love the development of the antiques business. It's perfect for me: I've been doing business around here for three hundred years now. No, not here exactly, of course. I came here first with the French, with the Chouteau brothers, great lads, and dealt with the Osage. Couldn't fool them: they knew what I was at first sight, but they were people of extraordinary insight and wisdom, treated me well. Traded with them for decades before Lewis and Clark. No, I haven't been here all along, I went back East to Ohio for a while, and out West as far as the coast. This land has always charmed me, ever since I crossed the ocean. No, I don't know any Transylvanians who've settled in the Ozarks, either.