In the Hands of a Vampire Ch. 04

Vivian's POV

The research paid off. Damn straight it did!

I was a fucking genius.

Yes, Vivian Addams was a fucking genius!

It took me a lot of ass kissing to get damned boss man Berger to finally agree to send me on an assignment that delivered my gorgeous ass dab smack in the location of great Hollywood. Oh, yes, dolls and dollies, yours truly invaded Hollywood.

Oh, hell no, not to become some idiotic starlet actress.

I went to Hollywood on a mission. One of my bloodhounds, a little fellow who did some side research for me, Norman Butters sent me a shit load of information. Such juicy info that geek dug up for me.

He staked claim that within the darker side of Hollywood there was some joint where strange happenings occurred. Of course, those happenings were straight up this journalist's alley. At the end of an even darker alley was located a private club, Club Blood it was called.

The more I read the info Norman had sent my way in forms of logged information from his numerous stakeouts, the more the story made me salivate. That story drove me into Berger's office and I basically demanded the fat-ass to fork out the funds for my out of town assignment. Yes, he bitched and moaned at me, argued nearly until his face was red, but he caved. No one refuses me, not even my so called boss.

So, after a flight from Atlanta across the United States, I landed in California. My mission was to sniff out this so called vampire hangout named Club Blood and get the juiciest unveiled story of my career.

1980, the swelling of Horror slasher films had taken over after it was spawned by Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Halloween. I always loathed slasher flicks. In my opinion Hollywood was dead and buried beneath a layer of sliced and diced bodies. I missed my old classic vampire flicks. There was nothing like a good bloodsucker who stalked busty women in effort to do a little sucking.

Well, there I was, amongst the world where the Universal monsters were created and given life but were killed off by idiotic machete wielding mutes. Yet, I wasn't there for sight seeing. I was there on that self assigned mission to locate and invade that mysterious club.

I predicted a bunch of vampire wannabes who sported clip-on fangs and sucked blood from razor inflicted cuts. But there was something within Norman's journal-like writings that intrigued me with hopes of some serious true cold blooded suckers.

I didn't have much time to spend there. I was straight on the bloody scent, dressed in my figure hugging signature ensemble of pin-up glory and always a drop dead gorgeous pair of spiked six inch Mary Jane's.

Norman provided me the secret address he had been staking out for several months. So, out into the night I strutted my stuff.

Club Blood was located in the center of Hollywood Boulevard off some dank and dark alley. Yep, I had some serious balls, traipsed out into the unknown where Norman claimed vampires haunted. I desperately wanted Norman's information to be correct.

I dreamed all my thirty-seven years for a moment to come face to face with a real and true undead creature of the night. But since I knew I was walking into that unknown alone, I made sure I tucked a few godly trinkets into my clutch.

Inside the clutch I stashed a crucifix, a little vile of holy water, and a switch blade. Yeah, switch blades were useless against the undead but I decided it was better safe than sorry. I more so worried about have my stunning self mugged than bitten by a fanged dark beauty.

I strutted my luscious ass along the walk of fame. My Mary Jane's tapped against those many star names, none I cared about. My darling Christopher Lee wasn't there nor his always foe Peter Cushing. Only one of any interest was Vincent Price, he was worth a star of course but unfortunately the other two Horror gods were not, according to dumb ass Hollywood.

Of course, as I strolled along, I passed those typical night creatures we call whores. I got some offers from passerby Jons. I didn't blame them, I looked damned better than those twig-let and cracked out hookers. Yet, there was no price that could be offered to purchase my expertise and merchandise. So I basically told them to 'fuck off' then was on my merry bitchy way towards the darkness, the deeper darkness.

Norman informed me that for me to enter the club I would have to state that I was either menu or diner. Well, shit, I thought, I knew I wasn't a diner and, damn, I hated the idea of labeling myself as the menu. But, as a journalist, one must make sacrifices. So, that night, I was the menu.

A further trek down Hollywood Boulevard, I found my first entrance into the unknown. No, I wasn't nervous, I was anxious. I faced that dark opening, saw the glow of a red neon sign in the distance; Club Blood. I thought it an obvious name.

I questioned in thought, what dumb fuck would name a vampire club, Club Blood?

Yet, it was also a good front. Who in their right mind would believe a bunch of undead bloodsuckers existed?

Yeah, I'm one who hoped and prayed for their existence, along with my loyal readers.

I brought a fabulous Mary Jane forward followed by the other and into the dark alley I sashayed. My lovely blues focused on that neon sign that seemed to call my infamous name. Come to me, Vivian. That sign beckoned and I did as called.

The closer I came, my rich red lips formed my signature pucker with the corners deviously turned up. Closer I came, my left and perfectly defined brow lifted as the intrigue and excitement grew inside me. There was always excitement if there was a possible true darkness that waited my arrival.

Since I was eighteen, I had that longing for the darkness. My every sleeping moment, behind my closed lids were visions of vampire grandeur. My dreams were always haunted by visions of pure beautiful darkness. Always I witnessed the darkest large eyes. The vastness of my dreams showed me glimpses of a mouth, lips formed into the most stunning slanted grin. There were moments that remarkable kisser was glossed by blood and all I desired was to taste those lips.

I neared the second entrance into the unknown. My heart pounded with excitement. In my thoughts I prayed that beyond that entrance I would finally discover what I had truly searched for throughout my life.

My crystal blues shifted at the shadowy image of what I suspected was a brute doorman. When I made my final approach, I was correct.

A tall brute of a man, dressed head to toe in black and sporting a pair of heavily darkened shades stood firm like a wall. Only his head turned and I could only assume he looked and eyed me.

I paused at the closed entrance, the metal door painted black. I briefly eyed the guy then broke the silence, "Well?"

The man's expression was frozen stiff then his lips finally moved and he asked, "Menu?"

Well, I guess I was obvious, I always prided myself being an original shout-out to the beauties like Vampira. I shrugged and replied, "I guess so."

"Fine," the guy said.

He finally moved from his stiff post and fetched something. He stepped from his post and handed me a long stemmed crimson rose. He slammed his hand against the metal door, the loud bang echoed against the walls of the alley.

I took the crimson rose. Hmm, I thought, apparently menu items received roses as symbol of their status.

The metal door was heard unlocked then it crept open with a subtle creak of the hinges.

My eyes peered forward into more darkness, finally heard the first sounds of what a supposed club should sound like.

I stepped forward over the threshold into further unknown territory. Yes, I've been to plenty vampire hangouts in past assignments but there was something inside me that screamed with excitement that what I had stepped into was beyond the past.

That metal door closed behind me then I heard it latch shut. For me, no turning back.

I lifted my chin, my strut and posture as I always carried myself, a total bitch.

The music played in the distance, not some disc jockey but an actual live band which performed some pretty evil Gothic melodies I never heard before. Yet, what mingled within that dark music was what I found intriguing, enough to perk my left brow and pucker my lips.

My eyes focused forward, saw the flickering of dark lights flash in beat to the music and my heartbeat. I hadn't been that excited on a hunt for a story in a while. Locally shit dried up and left me starved for more. My hunger had delivered me there, and amidst Hollywood was quite possibly a mass of blood lusting and sucking creatures I've built my life around.

I neared the entryway, the lighting different shades of red. The music was louder but so were those obvious sounds of what I hoped were the result of mass feeding. My pucker tensed with that grin at the corners. My darling baby blues widened with anticipation of what type of visual was beyond that entrance.

A arm suddenly darted and blocked my entrance.

My eyes frowned then shifted to a grinning face. "What?" I snipped, that grin didn't fade.

A tall and lanky guy stepped closer, kept his arm before me, then he slithered, "Oh, no," he slowly shook his head then sang with a droll foreign accent, "Something like you, VIP only."

Huh, I was flattered, and thought, apparently I was Grade A in that joint and damned straight.

He lifted his hand and aimed to my left, his lengthy finger pointed.

My head turned and I peered up a dimly lit set of stairs. My eyes shifted and I flashed the guy a wink then I chimed, "Thanks, doll." I shifted and aimed my gorgeous self at those stairs.

Up the stairs I ascended, my heels slightly audible as they clanked against each metal step. At the top I turned and discovered another dark entryway, no flashing lights to guide me as a moth to a flame. But that darkness drew me in like a bat to a moth.

Forward I stepped, the music faded the further I moved down that darkened corridor. I listened, the further the music faded into the background, music of another sort lifted. I followed the rising music and stopped before another metal door. I rolled my eyes, where was another damned doorman when you needed one.

I lifted a fist and knocked on the door.

A little trap door within that metal door swiftly pulled open, a glow of red light peered though as did two nearly yellow eyes. Those eyeballs made a quick scan of my fine self then the little door slammed closed. The metal door was jerked side ways and slid wide open for me.

I shrugged and stepped forward, apparently entered the VIP section of Club Blood.

There it was, perhaps it was the VIV room, very important vampire room. The entire space was large and illuminated with an ominous red glow from the multitude of lighting. My eyes shifted, saw an array of deep tinted windows where the flashes of lights from the other main section barely could be seen.

My eyes slowly scanned, took in the details of my mysterious surroundings. There was barely a soul in there with me, dead or alive.

From behind me a voice said, "Take a seat."

I peered over my shoulder, the yellow eyed peeper stood behind me.

"Sit," he said with his head bobbing in gesture.

I again shrugged then looked forward.

I stepped over the darkly shaded carpeting, shades of reds and black. The music was mellow and low which I thought odd for a vampire joint. I took in the few faces scattered about as I slowly sauntered towards an empty spot which were plenty.

Each individual sat like patient and willing menu item with their crimson roses held in their hands. Each were well dressed and groomed but I noted they weren't half as stylish as myself. Each had an expression of being drowned in within their thoughts, eyes glazed and faces solemn. Damn, I thought, they already looked like prettily made up corpses fresh from the funeral home.

I shifted on my heels and sat down on a black padded chair. I had no idea what to expect. I simply crossed my legs as any proper lady and continued my observations.

I truly wished I could have had a gander of the happenings in the main section. Yet, I believed I was more intrigued to what the so called VIP diners looked like. Noted, so far there hadn't been a pale faced or cape wearing Dracula anywhere. Yet, the main clientele hadn't revealed themselves to me which was nearly an anticipating grit between my teeth.

Well, boredom developed as an issue.

I looked the room over so many times it was memorized, even the mopey faces. Speaking of faces.

I opened my clutch and removed a silver compact and tube of deep red lipstick. My face was a priority, especially my lips. I took my time, eyed my reflection and the perfection it always reflected back at me. Slowly I coated a fresh layer of glossy red over my pucker then tediously pressed them together. I gave myself an adoring puckered kiss then tucked the items back into my purse.

After a moment with my reflection, nothing changed.

What the hell was I doing? Where the hell was all the bullshit Norman raved about? Where the hell were my vampires? Where was the blood in fucking Club Blood?

I had more interesting moments in the vampire poser clubs with all the razor to flesh slicing then blood sucking.

I huffed with annoyance and pure boredom. Then there came movement, not from the stiff wannabes but from my far right at one of two red draped entries.

My eyes only shifted, my left brow lifted.

Another tall and slender guy stepped out from behind the red curtain. He had a purely even scowl, narrow features, thin lips, and evil gleaming eyes. Nope, he wasn't remotely attractive according to my rules of what made a man worthy of my ogles.

I watched that guy, dressed in burgundy head to toe. He approached the few others seated about the room. It seemed he literally was poking and prodding them, eyed them as you would lobsters in a tank.

I started to pray that he would keep focused on those others. I wasn't at all interested in the likes of him. Yet, my prayers obviously weren't heard passed the walls of Club Blood for slinky shifted his eyeballs my direction.

He turned, those not so attractive eyes focused on me and I saw a strange glimmer of hunger within those eyes. But what truly took me by surprise was the moment I watched those eyes change and distort into a yellow similar to the VIP doorman's.

I swore, I believed vampires were supposed to be attractive in one way or another, not creepy.

I felt my innards cringe the moment he stepped my direction. Yes, I wanted to make the acquaintance of what I knew existed but he was by far not the acquaintance I wanted to make.

Before I knew it, those grossly yellowish eyes stared down at me. A even creepier grin formed over his thin lips and gave me a glimpse of fangs. Typically I thought fangs would get me all hot and bothered but because they were attached within an unattractive mouth, nope, I was not aroused at the least.

"Vivian Addams," that creature said my name.

I frowned then blatantly asked, "And how in the hell did you know that?"

He creepily chuckled then blatantly stated back to me, "I knew you couldn't resist."

Alright, I thought, something was up.

He continued to grin down at me.

But I stood up, hands planted on my hips and eyes narrowed. Vivian Addams was played for a fool.

His head did a creepy tilt then he claimed his play by an introduction, "Norman Butters."

Well, fuck!

My pucker tensed as my hands formed fists as they pressed against my snugly encased hips. I spouted, "You son of a bitch!"

He bellowed, laughed in my damned face which only fueled my anger.

"All this fucking time," I snapped, "All these damned months you've been sending me a bunch of bullshit!"

He eased his laughter then again grinned and stated, "Not bullshit. It was the truth." his seedy eyeballs scanned me from head to toe then back up again, "The only thing I lied about was what I was."

"No shit!" I angrily grumbled.

He slightly leaned closer then said, "You're right where you belong," he snickered, "Menu."

"Oh the hell!" I shouted then stated, "I ain't shit to you." I dared and shoved against the asshole's shoulder which quickly wiped his snicker from his lips, "You ain't sucking shit of mine, asshole!" I again dared, shoved him again, "You can go suck your own dick for all I care, you lying piece shit!"

He suddenly snatched my wrist attached to the hand that gripped the rose then stated, "I claim your rose."

A voice came from out of nowhere, "No."

That Norman bastard froze. His head slowly twisted and eyes looked to his left.

I saw something odd, like fear, which drained the smart ass expression from Norman's face.

"I claim the rose." that voice stated.

My eyes caught glimpse of a hand snatch my wrist below Norman's gripping hand then another swiftly stole the rose from my hand.

What the hell, I thought, was this menu being fought over?

Hell, I knew I was an impressive example of loveliness, but damn!

Norman's hand swiftly released mine and he loudly grumbled but didn't protest the rose thief.

My eyes finally blinked, shifted and focused on the hand that continued to hold my wrist. Hmm, I hummed in thought, nice hand.

My eyes scanned the length of the arm attached to the hand that held my wrist, took inventory of the stylish design of the sleeve. My eyes found the shoulder then drifted to the left and skidded to an abrupt halt the image of those damned lips that haunted my dreams.

My eyes widened and all I could think, what an amazing mouth. My eyes refused to budge for those lips were no longer in my dreams. Those lips were real and every damned perfect detail right there.

Those lips, manly full lips divinely designed with a unique natural crook about the left corner. I even spotted a lovely glisten of blood about that slanted left corner. I had no care who created that mouth, God or the Devil, for that mouth was heaven and was burned within the wide depths of my baby blues.

My left brow curiously perked and the pucker about my lips formed as I watched those lips move unlike any set ever.

A voice of pure smooth silk spoke passed those lips, "Come with me."

Those lips disappeared from my sight the moment that creature turned and tugged me with him.

I glanced back at the traitorous schemer who looked beyond pissed. Before I vanished, I darted my hand up and flipped the asshole a final middle finger farewell.

I stumbled a bit the moment I was pulled beyond the red drape. I looked forward, my eyes tried to get as many details as possible within the shitty lighting.

Down that dark corridor then a turn to the right the owner of my rose led me. Through an open doorway I somewhat stumbled and skidded to an abrupt tiptoe teetering halt.

Before me was a surprise.

Slightly sprawled over a type of lounge sofa was a bleached blonde, wide eyed and stone cold dead.

No, fear wasn't my first instinct, never was. Curiosity and intrigue was my instinct, always was.

I took a step forward, eyed the pale skinned victim. All my years investing I only saw crime scene photos my informant Riley slipped me. Not once had I seen the actual bodies up close and personal as I was then.

My eyes scanned down her still frame, her breasts blatantly exposed as she was topless yet every other item of clothing was intact. I so desperately wanted the visual of proof that my long time inner demons existed.

I stepped closer, my eyes targeted the area always fabled the source of immortal sustenance. The corners of my lips twitched and lifted as the pucker gradually tensed.

I slowly bent forward at the waist to get nearer. My eyes widened as inside I nearly exploded with morbid excitement. There it was, everything I had expected.