Hot Vampires

“He is really hot. Hot enough to get me fantasising about, you know,” a distant cousin winked at me meaningfully. We were at a coffee shop, sipping cappuccinos and nibbling at a cake. The cousin had refused to order a slice of cake for herself because she didn’t want to “get balloon-y”. But that didn’t stop her from taking generous bites of the treat we were supposed to share between us.

“Really? That hot?” I enquired. “But isn’t he kind of creepy? I mean, he is a vampire who goes about slashing throats and sucking blood.”

“I wish he would suck mine.”

Her level of dedication amazed me. She was willing to donate her blood to satiate a random bloodsucker’s hunger only because he was, apparently, hot. This man appeared in a TV series about vampires—a “million times better than that crappy Twilight”—and was the latest obsession in the young girl’s life. Previously, she had fallen for werewolves, zombies, and tomb raiders. These mythical creatures were responsible for most of her sexual awakening.

Vampire

When I was a child, vampires appeared in spooky Dracula films and classic novels. They kept me from going to the bathroom alone at night. I am pretty sure I had crushes on actors from televisions soaps, but they were usually people I could imagine running into in marketplaces, libraries or restaurants. They didn’t slink up on me from dark corners, pretending to like me only because they were thirsty for an iron-rich liquid.

I wonder what it is about vampires and other supernatural creatures that attracts so many young girls. Perhaps it is the thought of the forbidden, almost a frisson of danger. Perhaps they do pick hunky actors for these roles, and I am just too old to find them crushable anymore. Or maybe it is the otherworldly charm, the prospect of the kind of love that can exist only in fictional worlds.

“I find it hard to stop binge-watching that program. It is so intrusive!” The cousin was still chattering. “How do YOU keep vampires away, Di, and concentrate on other things?”

She had finished the cake, and my coffee had lost all its foam. Through the open door, I became unpleasantly conscious of the presence of other kinds of vampires. The ones that abound in summer, waiting to bite you all over and leave you scratching like a maniac.

“I keep the door shut in the evenings,” I told her.

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