Vampires don’t feel guilt.  

Well, not like the rest of humanity does. 

“But vampires aren’t human!” I hear you say.  

Well, maybe not, but if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and sucks blood from your neck like a ravenous monster from the deepest pit in your nightmares, then it’s a duck - or an inexperienced duck on a first date. 

Vampires are just like humans in many ways: 

They understand the need to dress fashionably. Admittedly this can be one hundred years out of date but, hey, flares will be back in some day!  

Along with their somewhat sombre colour choices, vamps do like to look moody, pale and interesting.  Like clubbers, they are night owls, partying until the small hours and sleeping all day.  

Some days they have absolutely no appetite.  On others they could eat a horse - well, drain said equine.  Lots of people are like that – apart from the blood drinking.  That is a little creepy. 

A cryptic comment about your fast approaching doom, followed by some snarling, spitting and screaming, is the frequent choice of verbal communication from a vampire.  I have had bosses who are less articulate than this. 

House proud?  No, vampires are not especially house proud.  A visitor will usually have to pick their way through the detritus of a vampire’s existence: discarded clothing (bloodstained), shoes (bloodstained), books (bloodstained), magazines (bloodstained), unmade beds (bloodstained) and coffins (muddy).  Apart from the blood, a vampire’s room is just like those of many people in this world.  Not especially nice people but people all the same. 

Does this remind you of anyone, parents?  What is your sixteen year old doing in its room? 

Grab the garlic!  Sharpen a stake!  Clutch a crucifix in your trembling hand, van Helsing! 

Set your foot on the bottom tread and climb the staircase to the landing.  It's a long way to the top and your only light flickers intermittently; a trapped fly buzzes against the bulb, broiling by interminable increments.  Set your hand to the handle and feel the sweat of your palm slick upon the cool metal.  Open the door if you dare.

Confront the damned! 

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