They adhere to all the traditional stereotypes concerning vampires, as well. They wont even enter someone's home unless they've been invited in by the owner, which makes it difficult for them to feed. Do you have any idea how hard it is to convince someone you're a Jehovah's Witness at three o'clock in the morning?
According to a creepy website I stumbled across, vampire subculture is defined as;
"A multi-faceted, socio-religious movement with its own distinct collective community and network of participants who share the knowledge they have been cursed by the scourge of vampirism."
In other words, its a culture of fantasy prone misfits, looking for an excuse to sleep all day and dress like Johnny Cash. Not that this is a bad thing, I too enjoy sleeping all day, but this isn't exactly what I'm interested in. I have no desire to be a vampire or drink anything that leaks from a persons body, nor do I wish to sleep in a coffin like Hillary Clinton. My particular interest in this community revolves around what are known as, "Slayers."
Slayers (as I understand it) are those who hunt down and execute vampires to prevent them from feeding on the blood of the innocent. To me, this is the perfect job. I've never killed anyone before, but this seems like a great way to take a life without having to be bothered by all the annoying feelings of guilt which so often accompany murder. After all, its not really murder if you're killing the undead, besides, if slaying vampires was good enough for Abraham Lincoln, it's good enough for me.
Finding these freaky little blood suckers, is a whole other story though. I ran around at night for weeks, snaring anyone I thought looked a little too pale, in a giant butterfly net, and never once caught a real vampire. I did however, catch several black-eyes and a shovel to the face. It's astonishing how angry people will get when you shove a sock full of garlic in their mouth and drop a net on them.
After weeks of failure to locate a vampire, I did a little more digging on the internet to see if I could discover where it is vampires congregate when they're not out getting their teeth sharpened. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any vampire social clubs where I can test out my new chainsaw, however, I did discover another possibility.
Along with slayers, vampire society also includes what are known as, "Blood Donors." These are people who willingly allow vampires to drink their blood. Within this community, vampires and donors are considered equal, yet donors are expected to be subservient to vampires. At the same time, donors are very difficult to find, since people don't normally enjoy being sucked on by a guy that looks like Marilyn Manson.
Using this knowledge, I surmised I could trick vampires into thinking I'd be willing to let them gobble my juice (not in a dirty way), and then, right when they were feeling comfortable and ready to feed, I would yank off my prosthetic leg, and beat them senseless.
So, awhile back, I covered the city with all sorts of flyers and posters, offering up my service as a blood donor to any vampire that didn't mind the taste of a little THC in his morning plasma smoothie.
The flyers brought me no response from the vampire community, so in an attempt to reach more eyeballs, I dropped 3,500 dollars on a sky-writing add. However, because I was attempting to reach nocturnal creatures, I had the pilot splash my message all over the night sky, which meant no one saw the damn thing except him and a few confused geese.
I had almost given up on my dream to murder a stranger when a friend of mine told me about a Goth night club downtown. It was full of all sorts of creepy looking people dressed like Morticia Adams, that hung out comparing different shades of black lipstick, and debating whose parents loved them less. This seemed like the perfect place to find a real vampire.
In an attempt to disguise my true identity as a slayer, as well as go unnoticed among the crowed, I drew all over my face with a black sharpie marker, put on a curly black wig, and borrowed a pair of dark pants (all I own are blue jeans) from my overweight neighbour. The pants kept slipping off my hips, exposing my underwear, so I made sure my boxers were dark, as well clean.
The night did not go well. For some reason people kept calling me a racist and demanding I wash the marker off my face. My wig was snatched from my head, and three guys threatened to remove their facial piercings so they could stab me with them. I hadn't been that scared since grandma asked if I would help her insert a suppository.
Needless to say, I had no luck in locating a vampire. I'm starting to think they're not actually real, but just the confused delusions of an unstable mind. The problem is, the only way I can think of to test this hypothesis would be to drive a stake through the heart of someone I believed to be a vampire. If they turn to dust, great, I've just killed the walking dead, if they bleed out all over my shoes while screaming, "Why, oh god, why?" Then I guess I'm going to jail for 20 years and having sex with men against my will, for 10 of them.
If any vampires happen to be reading this, I would like to ask that they get in touch with me. I promise not to chop your head off, or dunk your face into a toilet full of holy water. I only wish to know for certain, if you truly are real, so the next time we meet I can burn you to death with a flamethrower, and not have to worry about going to prison.
I look forward to hearing from you.