I'll Be Damned

Bite-sized fiction.

Image courtesy of Pinterest.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said when I showed him my fangs. He’d thought I was just a hot goth girl who really leaned into the whole vampire thing. For most people there’d have been a wealth of red flags. I was only available after dark whether it be calls, texts, or meeting in person. I never ate or drank anything. I tried not to let him notice, but I recoiled from roses or anything made of silver.

Also his dog hated me. That was fine, I hated the barky bastard right back.

More of a cat person anyway. They don’t squeal on you.

Somehow he blithely ignored all this, thinking I was just really committed to the bit. I know that people have this sort of defense mechanism going on where they filter out the supernatural freakiness all around them, but wow.

It only broke when he saw my sharp-and-pointies, the contours of my face changing and shifting to something much more chiropteran. No way he could turn a blind eye to the fact that he really had allowed a bloodsucking undead horror in through the front door now.

“Yeah, you will be,” I replied, right before sinking my teeth into his throat.