Day 73 – Blood Drunk – Short Story

He moves through the streets like a wrecking ball, crashing into everything and anything that’s in his way, until eventually he crashes into a garbage bin and tumbles hopelessly to the ground in a heap. He lies there in a daze for a few moments before he notices her standing there, watching him in the shadows as he pulls himself up onto all fours.

“Enjoining the s-show?” He slurs.

“I wouldn’t call it much of a show, more like white man go boom,” she replies in a thick European accent.

“Well fuck you missy!” He says as he clumsily gets to his feet. “I don’t need your shit, I-I-I….” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as he violently empties the contents of his stomach across the footpath, and for a few moments after, he stands there, swaying back and forth groaning. Then he draws back through his nose and spits out a large wad of saliva, snot and vomit out onto the ground, and uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his mouth.

“Well that was civilised, you could have at least done it in the gutter.”

“Who are you, my Mum?”

“No, I’m sure she made her exit from your life as soon as she was able to.”

“What, so now you’re a comedian?”

“Don’t take it too heart my poor baby, you’re just making yourself such an easy target, and I can’t resist easy targets,” she says with a laugh.

“Fuck you!” He yells as he stumbles forward and slams into the wall, and collapses to his knees, as the whole world begins to separate off into three distinct versions of itself, he shakes his head as he tries to pull his vision back to one, workable world.

She continues to laugh as he picks himself off the ground, “Honey, you need to go somewhere you can sleep it off, being out here, in your state, it’s dangerous.”

“Says you, what are you doing hanging around in the dark for anyway, you some sort of vampire?”

“Was it my accent that gave it away?” She says as she smiles a toothy grin.

“This another one of your lame arsed jokes?”

She laughs, “I’m sorry pet but the jokes are over, I’m hungry and it looks like you’re the main course,” she says, licking her lips.

“I’m not a blood donor bitch, go find another poor sap to take for a ride,” he says as he swings a poorly aimed punch towards her, but with little effort she easily out maneuvers his attack and sends him crashing to the ground with only a slight push, and then she is on him and pulls his head back as she grabs a large handful of hair. He tried to fight her off, but she is too powerful and its then that he feels her teeth dig into his neck like a shot of electricity, and he tries to scream but nothing comes out as he collapses into unconsciousness.

When he opens his eyes, his head feels like it’s been slapped around like a punching bag, and he slowly pulls himself up onto his elbows and looks around the small cell he’s found himself in.

“What the fuck?” He mutters to himself.

“Mister Ross,” a voice says from the other side of the bars, he looks up at Officer Lance Darcy, who stands there with a broad smile on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand. “Welcome back to the land of the living, you gave us quite a fight last night, seems you thought you were fighting vampires when we found you stumbling about, it took four of us to wrestle you to the ground, but with a blood alcohol reading of one point thee I’m not surprised, your blood was pretty much alcohol.”



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