Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Of Ex-vampires and Poking Fun at What Should Be Creepy Insanity ❯ Of Sensitive Male Crotches and the Mousepads That Save Them ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Of Ex-Vampires and Poking Fun at What Should Be Creepy Insanity

Chapter One: Of Sensitive Male Crotches and the Mousepads That Save Them

Disclaimer: Actually, this is one of my own creations. Character names have been changed because I did not ask my ex-friends/love interest if I could use them as characters. Therefore, I changed names, and a few other indentifiable quirks of theirs...

Author's note: This chappie's a tad short compared to what I usually write. And I don't demand reviews for anything, but I'd appreciate folks checking out other stories of mine. They get rather lonely I'm sure, since I hardly ever check on them.


"Get that hamburger outta m' face, boy."

I might be listening to a tape that had recorded in my own bedroom as I slept trying to catch EVPs from my possibly haunted home and running on coffee grounds, but even I can't help but laugh at my drowsy sleep-talk.

"Damn it, Vamp-boy, get outta m' way 'fore I bite yer big toe off." the tape continues. Dull moments? Not in my lifetime. My part-time friend, full-time foe, Kaleb, just about snorts his scalding-hot coffee out his nose. I foget why I ever mentioned "Vamp-boy" (A.K.A. my love interest for several years that never took me anywhere but Hell) to him. Inconveniently, he is acquainted with both of us, as well as the details of that strange relationship. Or, rather, the lack thereof.

Definately a small world.

I smirk over the rim of my coffee mug and take another swig. What Kaleb and I hear next almost makes me drop my beverage and turns the contents of my stomach - more hot coffee and a couple of minty tic-tacs - to ice.

"Join him in Hell, trespasser." this time it isn't my sleep-slurred voice, but a cold, menacing voice that sounds detatched from our world. It also grates aginst my ears, so bad I wish I were deaf.

Kaleb, after his initial shock, stares at me, sporting an I-just-shit-my-pants look and - wisely - sets his own mug on the mousepad on his desk, ensuring he doesn't spill hot liquid on his sensitive male crotch (which I'm sure would hurt like Hell and probably wouldn't look too dignified either) and also saving the cheap "wood" material of the desk from looking like shit. Or maybe it was just to guard his family jewels, seeing as it's a few too many years too late to save the desk from a horrible aspect. Well, I suppose it's the thought that counts. My bet, however, still rests on the theory that he just doesn't want his cock coffee-broiled. Really, though, who would?

A long silence follows the sudden comment by the being that shouldn't be there. The eerie voice was male and I know I haven't brought a man home in, shit, forever. And I know I won't be while something else is lurking about my home. Especially not if I'm still talking about ancient history. Well, there wnet this weekend's plans for banging the cute mailman with the nice ass.

The disembodied voice never appears again on the tape, but what else is sends corcern spidering through my body. What sounds like my closet door sliding along its track is caught. My T.V. flips on to a porno channel I don't get anymore due to the cost, stays on long enough to hear the passionate sounds of cliche lovemaking scenarios, and flips back off. And lastly, quite embarassingly, the tape recorder replays some of my own heated pants, moans, and a lusty scream of a certain former partner's name.

At the lusty scream, Kaleb glances over at me, one eyebrow highly arched and the start of an evil, I'm-so-telling-"Vamp-boy"-you-cry-his-name-out-like-that smirk evident on his lips. I shrug, more confused and embarassed than worried that he will actually tell Vamp-boy anything.

"Dude, this tape recorded while I was asleep, I don't get that porno channel anymore 'cause I'm not paying the extra fifty bucks to watch half-assed recreations of the dirty deed, and hello! I don't like touching myself while awake. Pretty sure I don't while I'm asleep."

"Sure you don't." Kaleb retorts. He doesn't lok so convinced. My turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I'm not kidding."

"Still telling him you beg his name."

"You're an ass-wipe. You do know that, right?"

"I'll tell him that too."

"Funny, I was reffering to you."

"That explains so much."

"Does it?"

The recorder clicks at the end of the tape.