If you could think of normal blood as Chinese wine that tasted like rusty grape juice puked up by a somewhat diseased raccoon, with a tang of mud, a infants blood would be the opposite a fine cognac made by virgin hands blessed by the fires of hell, with a few drops of ecstasy.
Hell and alcohol was Dragsters forte ever since he was left with a rather ill composition.
Two protruding teeth with hunger pangs, he was simply a vampire and not the one found on the pages of adult fiction, but more a walrus of a man.
His fangs had grown a few times larger than the norm,giving him a horrible overbite, the vampire kingdom was somewhat ancient Greek, size was frowned upon.
Bald and turned at 40 years old, he was accursed to walk the earth as a Walmart specimen of a man.
The lard would not excuse itself from his body even though he tried an array of ideas ranging from liposuction, exercise and finally a diet of only the most high class blood from the hills of Beverly.
Mood swings, constant repetition of the word like and a odd fixation on starting an instagram page even though he couldn't be seen was all that came out of it an utter failure he'd mutter tapping his fountain pen on the mahogany wood. However he was an influencer and he would chuckle at his own wit from time to time.
The sad truth, the indisputable truth, was when you were bitten you stayed just as you were and nothing except eternal slumber could change that.
Dragster now walked among the bloodbags he once called kin, he wore a prim top hat and a ill fitting zuit suit that gave him the likeness of a overweight penguin with high cholesterol and breath heavier than teenage angst.
He'd gotten it from some famous jazz musicians years back and he had a lingering feeling that he might have accidentally turned him. Then again when you deal with a mountain of bodies one forgets these things.
Dragsters gait however was that of an elegant kind, a Russian ballerina or a trot of a well groomed horse, it was a sight to see, like a droopy balloon full of helium kicked down a street.
Rain began to trickle and slowly darken and swallow the reddish bricks to his left, the first prickling cold of September could be felt in the nape of ones neck.
Dragster began to laugh uncontrollably, this was another trait of a vampire, uncontrollable and rather dubious laughter. It was warned if one did not hold it back, it could consume him and giggle and roar he would until oblivion.
Dragster felt a shiver at this, but the falling temperature gave him warmth, on the street one might find a body or two with a case of hypothermia, this was the equivalent of an iced latte for a vampire. His first was in Russia and the memory rushed in.
You might have heard of the Dyatlov Pass incident, Dragster was mostly at fault for this, the sixties had almost rolled in and he had just started experimenting with LSD, now when a bloodbag was on the drug he could easily take a quick drink without it noticing.
He would not kill as Peace was the word of the time and what is a monster if not the times he lives in.
"wow man those are some gnarly teeth" one would utter with paraphernalia induced excitement.
Grasping him by his neck his teeth would sink in a high but low IQ man. Protruding; the teeth would reveal small needles that vibrated and plunged into veins.
Two large holes in popular lore are usually left by either young vampires or impotent ones, usually the ladder, there is Vampria or vampire viagra. Side effects include unintended explosion of the human you are feeding on, rather embarrassing at a family dinner and as well a lust to eat garlic a highly dangerous substance for vampires (suicidal tendencies).
Dragster remembered Yuri well as he had brought a miniature surfboard with two ski boots attached to it,this was the first time he had seen a snowboard.
A genius Yuri was, he spoke of America "I wish to live in America, the American dream, my invention will bring happiness to many and surely make me a man of some respect, I want to be an inventor, I want many things I cannot have here" He'd sigh,
"I wish we saw beyond our veil in front of our eyes" he closed his eyes and whispered "America one day i'm sure"
The expedition was all and well until they reached Kholat Syakhl through the unrelenting snow, when Dragsters thirst had been doubled by the LSD, so he drank more and in turn they did more LSD and Dragster laughed the dubious laugh. The snow was falling heavy now and the wind howled.
Drugs as well as happiness can produce a state of fear and fear peered it's ugly head his mothers ghost on all his comrades faces and they spoke in tandem.
"Drinking again, ey you're worthless you know Dragster" she'd snirk
"You can only make friends with dirty foreigners can't you Dragster" she'd spit
"You peed in your bed again Dragster" she'd sigh
"Here's some cinnamon pie Kathy baked" ..... she'd say
The last one wasn't evil per say but who knows the ways of the mind, as this was the nuclear button that pushed him off the edge as he screamed a harrowing scream that split the silence.
It echoed all the way to Moscow where Khrushchev dropped his favorite pair of reading glasses in his private study.
His nails turned to claws his hair flailed around like millions of serpents as he ripped the tent apart and ran off in to the darkness shouting "Mothers home, Dragster better be seen but not heard" like so many years ago when he was a human child, psychotherapy it should be know is necessary even for Vampires.
Dragster hadn't killed anybody, but a whole group of people now rested in the middle of a snow storm low on blood, experiencing a horrible LSD trip naked.
The story unfolded as you might expect, they had all ran out unclothed, dancing and after a while violence took over with some clawing at eyes staring at them and at the eyes they stared with, one bored with his voice ate his tongue in utter satisfaction. Sat in the snow rocking. "yum, yum, yum" he'd repeat until the cold got him.
When finally Dragster returned after a night of escaping owls that had faces resembling his mother whom repeated "youuu, youuu" at him, he saw the carnage that had ensued, everybody was dead mostly of hypothermia and he felt almost no regret while sucking on the icicles to lower his hangover, a vampire must not feel is a rule, a somewhat idiotic rule.
There was however one thing at the bottom of the hill that brought a tear to his soulless eyes, there frozen like a blue Soviet icicle was Yuri standing on his snowboard giving a thumbs up and smiling proudly, his last act on earth was to become the first snowboarder and pioneer in history and that history would stay buried by the snow storm and the weight of the Soviet Union.
"America one day i'm sure" Dragster said as he picked the snowboard and went on his way.