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I Wrote A Thing
Oct. 4th, 2020 09:45 pmThis isn’t a Hallowe’en story but it does have a vampire in it, so close enough for October I guess.
The vampire was likely not the first monster in the neighborhood, but his story is the oldest. The street had no name yet in those days, a decade or two after the civil war; nor did he. The stories don’t even mention how he came to America, if he shipped himself across in a coffin full of earth, or if he made the journey as a living man and turned sometime after reaching shore. At any rate, he came to the street — half dirt road, half alleyway— already a creature undead. He wasn’t pale and waxy like Bella Lugosi in the movies, but livid with decay slowed to a standstill but not before it had left a purple bloom on his skin. It was just after an early winter sundown, however, and if anybody noticed his bloated face and unsteady gate, they were too polite to comment on a stranger who’d overindulged in spirits, not as long as he didn’t swing his fists at anybody.
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The vampire was likely not the first monster in the neighborhood, but his story is the oldest. The street had no name yet in those days, a decade or two after the civil war; nor did he. The stories don’t even mention how he came to America, if he shipped himself across in a coffin full of earth, or if he made the journey as a living man and turned sometime after reaching shore. At any rate, he came to the street — half dirt road, half alleyway— already a creature undead. He wasn’t pale and waxy like Bella Lugosi in the movies, but livid with decay slowed to a standstill but not before it had left a purple bloom on his skin. It was just after an early winter sundown, however, and if anybody noticed his bloated face and unsteady gate, they were too polite to comment on a stranger who’d overindulged in spirits, not as long as he didn’t swing his fists at anybody.
( Read more... )
