Hello, dear friends of the creepy.
I was out of the house all day, but not to worry, I was with writers, reading and critiquing. So happiness!
But back to the task at hand. A few days remain until I complete my mission (mostly) of a story-a-day for October. If we ignore the fact that I started the challenge on the 6th (I didn’t see the list until the 5th!) and missed a couple of days (real life, people, real life)… it’s still a lot of stories. Right?
Thank you to The Midnight Society for today’s word, costume. Hmmm…
I wanted to be a vampire. So that’s what the little, old woman made me.
The cape flutters at my ankles as I stride into the party. The hunched, gray-haired lady informed me that the best costumes were kept in the back… her special costumes. I didn’t want to be just any vampire. No glittery skin or fake plastic fangs. I wanted to transform into Dracula himself. The original.
A curvy Cleopatra slides her fingers along the edge of my collar as I pass. “Whoa, Jerry, is that you?”
I flip my cape and weave through the crowd. This party will be different. I won’t stand in a corner, hoping someone will talk to me.
A fairy queen winks at me. “Great costume!”
Pride fills my chest.
A scantily clad Viking shield-maiden points her sword at my throat. “Must be the cape, it brings out something…” She narrows her blue eyes, inspecting me. “Irresistible.”
Power crawls through my mind. My heart thumps with self confidence. No woman had ever found me attractive.
A witch stares at me, her black fingernails tapping against the buttons on my shirt. I take a deep breath. The scent of desire mixes with her perfume. The party thrums around us, yet the sounds of beating hearts rises above the music and laughing.
Throbbing veins in their necks draw my gaze. A low growl rumbles in my throat as yearning seeps into mind. A darkness settles in my soul.
The witch gasps. “Your eyes! How did you make them black?”
“What?” I ask, stepping towards her.
My fairy queen shoves the witch out of the way and gazes into my eyes. “Exquisite.”
Leaning forward, my lips brushing her neck. My stomach twists with desire. I straighten. My green-eyed witch, warrior, and winged beauty flock to me, cling to me like cobwebs.
A cowboy passes, raising his brows in approval. “How do you do it, man?”
My tongue passes over fangs as they form in my mouth. “I am Dracula.”
Good thing I don’t have any Halloween parties to attend.