Vivian's POV
The research paid off. Damn straight it did!
I was a fucking genius.
Yes, Vivian Addams was a fucking genius!
It took me a lot of ass kissing to get damned boss man Berger to finally agree to send me on an assignment that delivered my gorgeous ass dab smack in the location of great Hollywood. Oh, yes, dolls and dollies, yours truly invaded Hollywood.
Oh, hell no, not to become some idiotic starlet actress.
I went to Hollywood on a mission. One of my bloodhounds, a little fellow who did some side research for me, Norman Butters sent me a shit load of information. Such juicy info that geek dug up for me.
He staked claim that within the darker side of Hollywood there was some joint where strange happenings occurred. Of course, those happenings were straight up this journalist's alley. At the end of an even darker alley was located a private club, Club Blood it was called.
The more I read the info Norman had sent my way in forms of logged information from his numerous stakeouts, the more the story made me salivate. That story drove me into Berger's office and I basically demanded the fat-ass to fork out the funds for my out of town assignment. Yes, he bitched and moaned at me, argued nearly until his face was red, but he caved. No one refuses me, not even my so called boss.
So, after a flight from Atlanta across the United States, I landed in California. My mission was to sniff out this so called vampire hangout named Club Blood and get the juiciest unveiled story of my career.
1980, the swelling of Horror slasher films had taken over after it was spawned by Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Halloween. I always loathed slasher flicks. In my opinion Hollywood was dead and buried beneath a layer of sliced and diced bodies. I missed my old classic vampire flicks. There was nothing like a good bloodsucker who stalked busty women in effort to do a little sucking.
Well, there I was, amongst the world where the Universal monsters were created and given life but were killed off by idiotic machete wielding mutes. Yet, I wasn't there for sight seeing. I was there on that self assigned mission to locate and invade that mysterious club.
I predicted a bunch of vampire wannabes who sported clip-on fangs and sucked blood from razor inflicted cuts. But there was something within Norman's journal-like writings that intrigued me with hopes of some serious true cold blooded suckers.
I didn't have much time to spend there. I was straight on the bloody scent, dressed in my figure hugging signature ensemble of pin-up glory and always a drop dead gorgeous pair of spiked six inch Mary Jane's.
Norman provided me the secret address he had been staking out for several months. So, out into the night I strutted my stuff.
Club Blood was located in the center of Hollywood Boulevard off some dank and dark alley. Yep, I had some serious balls, traipsed out into the unknown where Norman claimed vampires haunted. I desperately wanted Norman's information to be correct.
I dreamed all my thirty-seven years for a moment to come face to face with a real and true undead creature of the night. But since I knew I was walking into that unknown alone, I made sure I tucked a few godly trinkets into my clutch.
Inside the clutch I stashed a crucifix, a little vile of holy water, and a switch blade. Yeah, switch blades were useless against the undead but I decided it was better safe than sorry. I more so worried about have my stunning self mugged than bitten by a fanged dark beauty.
I strutted my luscious ass along the walk of fame. My Mary Jane's tapped against those many star names, none I cared about. My darling Christopher Lee wasn't there nor his always foe Peter Cushing. Only one of any interest was Vincent Price, he was worth a star of course but unfortunately the other two Horror gods were not, according to dumb ass Hollywood.
Of course, as I strolled along, I passed those typical night creatures we call whores. I got some offers from passerby Jons. I didn't blame them, I looked damned better than those twig-let and cracked out hookers. Yet, there was no price that could be offered to purchase my expertise and merchandise. So I basically told them to 'fuck off' then was on my merry bitchy way towards the darkness, the deeper darkness.
Norman informed me that for me to enter the club I would have to state that I was either menu or diner. Well, shit, I thought, I knew I wasn't a diner and, damn, I hated the idea of labeling myself as the menu. But, as a journalist, one must make sacrifices. So, that night, I was the menu.
A further trek down Hollywood Boulevard, I found my first entrance into the unknown. No, I wasn't nervous, I was anxious. I faced that dark opening, saw the glow of a red neon sign in the distance; Club Blood. I thought it an obvious name.
I questioned in thought, what dumb fuck would name a vampire club, Club Blood?
Yet, it was also a good front. Who in their right mind would believe a bunch of undead bloodsuckers existed?
Yeah, I'm one who hoped and prayed for their existence, along with my loyal readers.
I brought a fabulous Mary Jane forward followed by the other and into the dark alley I sashayed. My lovely blues focused on that neon sign that seemed to call my infamous name. Come to me, Vivian. That sign beckoned and I did as called.
The closer I came, my rich red lips formed my signature pucker with the corners deviously turned up. Closer I came, my left and perfectly defined brow lifted as the intrigue and excitement grew inside me. There was always excitement if there was a possible true darkness that waited my arrival.
Since I was eighteen, I had that longing for the darkness. My every sleeping moment, behind my closed lids were visions of vampire grandeur. My dreams were always haunted by visions of pure beautiful darkness. Always I witnessed the darkest large eyes. The vastness of my dreams showed me glimpses of a mouth, lips formed into the most stunning slanted grin. There were moments that remarkable kisser was glossed by blood and all I desired was to taste those lips.
I neared the second entrance into the unknown. My heart pounded with excitement. In my thoughts I prayed that beyond that entrance I would finally discover what I had truly searched for throughout my life.
My crystal blues shifted at the shadowy image of what I suspected was a brute doorman. When I made my final approach, I was correct.
A tall brute of a man, dressed head to toe in black and sporting a pair of heavily darkened shades stood firm like a wall. Only his head turned and I could only assume he looked and eyed me.
I paused at the closed entrance, the metal door painted black. I briefly eyed the guy then broke the silence, "Well?"
The man's expression was frozen stiff then his lips finally moved and he asked, "Menu?"
Well, I guess I was obvious, I always prided myself being an original shout-out to the beauties like Vampira. I shrugged and replied, "I guess so."
"Fine," the guy said.
He finally moved from his stiff post and fetched something. He stepped from his post and handed me a long stemmed crimson rose. He slammed his hand against the metal door, the loud bang echoed against the walls of the alley.
I took the crimson rose. Hmm, I thought, apparently menu items received roses as symbol of their status.
The metal door was heard unlocked then it crept open with a subtle creak of the hinges.
My eyes peered forward into more darkness, finally heard the first sounds of what a supposed club should sound like.
I stepped forward over the threshold into further unknown territory. Yes, I've been to plenty vampire hangouts in past assignments but there was something inside me that screamed with excitement that what I had stepped into was beyond the past.
That metal door closed behind me then I heard it latch shut. For me, no turning back.
I lifted my chin, my strut and posture as I always carried myself, a total bitch.
The music played in the distance, not some disc jockey but an actual live band which performed some pretty evil Gothic melodies I never heard before. Yet, what mingled within that dark music was what I found intriguing, enough to perk my left brow and pucker my lips.
My eyes focused forward, saw the flickering of dark lights flash in beat to the music and my heartbeat. I hadn't been that excited on a hunt for a story in a while. Locally shit dried up and left me starved for more. My hunger had delivered me there, and amidst Hollywood was quite possibly a mass of blood lusting and sucking creatures I've built my life around.
I neared the entryway, the lighting different shades of red. The music was louder but so were those obvious sounds of what I hoped were the result of mass feeding. My pucker tensed with that grin at the corners. My darling baby blues widened with anticipation of what type of visual was beyond that entrance.
A arm suddenly darted and blocked my entrance.
My eyes frowned then shifted to a grinning face. "What?" I snipped, that grin didn't fade.
A tall and lanky guy stepped closer, kept his arm before me, then he slithered, "Oh, no," he slowly shook his head then sang with a droll foreign accent, "Something like you, VIP only."
Huh, I was flattered, and thought, apparently I was Grade A in that joint and damned straight.
He lifted his hand and aimed to my left, his lengthy finger pointed.
My head turned and I peered up a dimly lit set of stairs. My eyes shifted and I flashed the guy a wink then I chimed, "Thanks, doll." I shifted and aimed my gorgeous self at those stairs.
Up the stairs I ascended, my heels slightly audible as they clanked against each metal step. At the top I turned and discovered another dark entryway, no flashing lights to guide me as a moth to a flame. But that darkness drew me in like a bat to a moth.
Forward I stepped, the music faded the further I moved down that darkened corridor. I listened, the further the music faded into the background, music of another sort lifted. I followed the rising music and stopped before another metal door. I rolled my eyes, where was another damned doorman when you needed one.
I lifted a fist and knocked on the door.
A little trap door within that metal door swiftly pulled open, a glow of red light peered though as did two nearly yellow eyes. Those eyeballs made a quick scan of my fine self then the little door slammed closed. The metal door was jerked side ways and slid wide open for me.
I shrugged and stepped forward, apparently entered the VIP section of Club Blood.
There it was, perhaps it was the VIV room, very important vampire room. The entire space was large and illuminated with an ominous red glow from the multitude of lighting. My eyes shifted, saw an array of deep tinted windows where the flashes of lights from the other main section barely could be seen.
My eyes slowly scanned, took in the details of my mysterious surroundings. There was barely a soul in there with me, dead or alive.
From behind me a voice said, "Take a seat."
I peered over my shoulder, the yellow eyed peeper stood behind me.
"Sit," he said with his head bobbing in gesture.
