A couple of things before you read this story:
a) There is some violence, although it's mostly intended to be of the dark humor sort.
b) There is sex (duh), but it comes much later in the story.
c) There is no sexual violence (not really my bag).
That's all I have to say about that. Hope you enjoy!
*
The man sat in a dark corner of the crowded bar and observed the chaotic idiocy around him.
"Halloween," he muttered to himself, "what a joke."
A normal weekend was bad enough in his opinion. The town was filled with college students looking for any reason at all to get shitfaced. But Halloween...oh boy, the idiots really came out to play then. Every year the level of tomfoolery seemed to grow exponentially. The streets would be covered in condoms, beer bottles, and puke before the night was through, like a fresh blanket of putrid snow.
The man continued to brood in the corner as he had for much of the night, using the tip of his tongue to toy with his vampire fangs. His were not of cheap plastic, mind you. He had his made out of porcelain years ago to custom fit his mouth. Of course, he really didn't need Halloween as an excuse to wear them. Little did anyone know that he actually wore them on most days of the year. If he actually smiled once in a while or, you know, spoke to someone from time to time, people might have gotten a glimpse of them by now.
But he didn't like to speak to people very much. He had no friends or family really to speak of, and that was how he liked it. For as long as he could remember, he had felt detached from society, like he didn't belong anywhere, not even to the race of human-beings that he supposedly was scientifically a part of. Not only did he not feel like he belonged, but he felt strongly that he was above the common man, superior in every way imaginable. His point was driven home in his mind as he observed a drunken fool across the room with four lit cigarettes in his mouth trying to chug a beer.
"Idiot," he said to himself.
As far as he was concerned, a human was no different than any other common pest. What do you do if you see a roach scurry across your kitchen floor? Without hesitation, you chase it down and stomp the life out of it. Oh, how he longed to take the life of someone. He felt the saliva drip from his sharp fangs as he imagined for about the millionth time in his life what it would be like when he finally got the courage to sink his teeth deeply into the neck of one of those pathetic creatures and drain every drop of warm, salty-
"Frances!" someone suddenly called out to him, mere inches from his face.
Frances was immediately knocked out of his stupor, so startled that he literally fell out of his chair and onto his back.
"Yes sir?" Frances replied shakily from the floor.
"The fucking trash, Frances. Have you seen it lately?"
"No sir, Mr. Anderson," Frances replied.
"Well I have. It is overflowing. It is more than overflowing. It has, in fact, overflown. Now get your scrawny vampire ass up off the goddamn ground and dump the fucking trash, Frances. Now!"
"Yes sir, Mr. Anderson," Frances replied.
"Oh, and when you're done," Mr. Anderson continued with a smirk, "the toilet's clogged again in the boy's bathroom. There's piss and shit everywhere. You know what to do."
With that, Mr. Anderson walked away.
Frances took his time standing up. He brushed off his cape and pulled his high collar up as far around his face as it would go. As he made his way across the bar towards the trash cans, he had to weave in between about what had to literally be a hundred zombies. It was a very popular year for zombie costumes. The very bar that Frances worked at was actually hosting a zombie costume competition with a grand prize of free drinks for a year. Obviously, one can see the appeal that would have to college students.
Frances gathered up the two giant sacks of trash from the corner of the bar and dragged them out the back entrance that led into the alley. The sound of hundreds of glass bottles crashing together rang sharply through the dark alley as he heaved them into the dumpster.
Instead of returning immediately back to the bar and getting started on his next task, Frances took a moment to just sit on the pavement, his back against the dumpster. He closed his eyes and pictured himself at the end of the night, the sweet relief of closing time upon him. He would still have to sweep, mop, and wipe down surfaces, but at least that was something he could do in peace and quiet. Mr. Anderson would leave ahead of him, and even though Frances had never forgotten to lock up in the fifteen years that he had worked at that grimy bar, he'd rudely remind him to lock the doors when he left, as if he were some kind of idiot.
But maybe tonight he wouldn't need to lock the doors, since he wouldn't be working there anymore if he actually followed through with his long-time plan. Maybe tonight would finally be the night where he followed Mr. Anderson to his car, stealthily behind him the whole time. Frances would be sneaky enough to gently open the back door of Mr. Anderson's car on the passenger side, and time it perfectly so that they both closed their doors at exactly the same moment. Mr. Anderson would be clueless that Frances lurked in the dark back seat of his car as he accelerated down the road. Was there was a stop sign on a country road? Or was there a deserted stoplight? Or perhaps Mr. Anderson had a dark driveway and no neighbors nearby...Frances would just have to wait and see. There would be an opportune time to suck the life out of his throat, and Frances would have the patience to wait for that moment.
Jovial laughter from the street knocked him out of his trance. Once again, Frances found himself standing up off of a dirty surface and brushing himself off.
Tonight probably wasn't the night, and he knew it. It would probably just be like any other night, just a little bit more mess to clean up because of the larger crowd.
Oh well, he thought, it was still fun to fantasize. Perhaps one day he would truly embrace the vampire that he knew deep down he was, and maybe that day was sooner than he could have ever imagined.
~
"Manny, are you absolutely certain we'll be able to get in?" Dante asked as the group of friends slowly made their way down the sidewalk.
"Dude, will you please chill the fuck out?" Manny responded. "I've already told you, the Sigma Chi guys I talked to last week assured me they'd let me in, and anyone I brought with me."
"It's just kinda hard to believe, Manny," Dante said. "Their Halloween parties are, like, world famous. And we're just gonna be able to walk in there like it's nothing?"
Manny stopped and faced his friend.
"Dante, who's the leader of this group?" Manny asked.
"We have a leader?" Dante asked.
"I've always thought of Dominic as our leader," Dave chimed in.
"No, Dominic's the muscle," Manny said with a slight tone of annoyance.
"Oh," Dave replied.
"Dominic's the muscle, Dante is the brains, Dave, you're the money, and I'm the leader," Manny explained.
"Then what does that make me?" Bobby asked.
Manny turned his attention to Bobby and looked him up and down.
"You're the fat gaywad that decided to dress up as a cowboy for Halloween."
"Jeez Manny, ease up," Dante said.
"Yeah," Bobby said. "You're not supposed to say things like that anymore."
"Things like what?" Manny asked defensively.
"Things like 'gaywad'. It's offensive."
Manny stared at Bobby with a mixture of confusion and defiance on his face.
"Offensive to who?" Manny asked.
"Homosexuals," replied Bobby.
"Are you gay?" Manny asked.
"No."
"Then what the hell do you care?"
Bobby rolled his eyes as the group continued to walk towards the frat house that was still several blocks away.
Dominic hung towards the back, not really in the mood for the bantering that his friends were having. He guessed he was excited for the party that they were going to, but he also figured that he would have been just as happy hanging out in his room alone that night and playing video games or something.
"What's your deal?" Manny asked all of a sudden, looking back at Dominic.
It took a few seconds for Dominic to realize that Manny was talking to him.
"Huh?" Dominic asked.
"Why are you so quiet?"
"I dunno."
"Are you embarrassed that you're the only one not wearing a costume? Because you should be."
"I am wearing a costume."
"You're wearing your hockey jersey and jeans. You wear that all the time. Doesn't count."
Dominic looked down at his blue and white jersey, tugging on the bottom of it so that he could stretch it out and study it. He wasn't really quite sure why he felt the need to do that.
"Yeah, sorry Dominic, but he's right," Dante chimed in.
"And this is a costume mandatory party, you know," Manny continued. "So don't get upset with me if they don't let you in."
"I'm not too worried about it," Dominic said.
"Of course, I guess it's better than dressing up as a goddamn pencil," Manny said.
Dominic looked at Dave. He, quite literally, was dressed up as a giant number two pencil.
"What's wrong with my costume?" Dave asked defensively.
"It is pretty weird," Dante agreed.
"Almost as gay as Bobby's cowboy," Manny said.
"Yeah, but like, I've got a great pick-up line I can use on girls," Dave said with a huge grin.
"What's that?" Dante asked.
"I can say something like, 'Hey girl, I'm feeling a little dull. You got anywhere I can stick my tip and sharpen up?'"
Everyone burst out laughing. Even Dominic, in his foul mood, couldn't help but join in with his friends as they all laughed at Dave.
"I was wrong," Manny said, "your costume is definitely gayer than Bobby's."
"Whatever," Dave said. "At least I'm not something cliche' like you with your cheap, dollar store version of Superman."
"Shut up Dave," Manny said threateningly. "I'm pretty sure Superman could snap a pencil in half with just two fingers, and if you're not careful, that's exactly what'll happen."
Dave looked annoyed, but decided not to say anything else.
As they continued to walk, Dominic remained at the back of the pack of five friends. Well, Dominic guessed they were all friends. They hung out a lot, but he wasn't sure if he necessarily considered them all friends. If he was completely honest with himself, he really only thought of Dante, who was also his roommate, as a really good friend. Manny was an asshole, Dave was kind of snobby, and Bobby...well he was nice enough, but he and Dominic never really had much to talk about.
As if on cue, Dante looked back at Dominic and fell behind a little so that they were walking side-by-side.
"You good?" Dante asked, low enough so the rest of them couldn't hear.
"Yeah man, I'm fine," Dominic replied. "I'm just a little stressed, I guess. Hockey season just started and practices are kind of brutal. Plus we've got a lot of away games coming up and that gets a little tough."
"I bet. You still like playing though, right?"
"Oh yeah, I love it. I wouldn't be in college without it, honestly."
"Still thinking you can go pro?"
"I hope so. I dunno, I feel like so many of these international guys have a leg up on me. We don't really take our hockey as seriously in this country as some other places do."
"You'll get in man, I just know it."
"Thanks," Dominic replied. "So...what's the deal with the pirate outfit?"
Dante looked down and surveyed himself.
"Oh yeah...I don't know, I had the sword already. Kinda just wanted an excuse to carry it around and show it off, to be honest."
"Wait...is that a real sword?"
Dante pulled the sword from the sheath attached to his belt and held it in front of himself.
"Yep! It was my grandfather's. I loved looking at it as a kid, I'd always ask him to tell me stories about it and stuff. So he put it in his will that when he died, I could have it. And lucky for me, he didn't make it past the summer!"
