Roy the Gargoyle
The Moving Shadows on the Church
It’s raining cats and dogs, very cold and wet; a person could see his own breath in the darkness of this
dreadful night. Roy stands in the rain, no umbrella, wet as hell, but not one sign of a pant or even cold
air leaves his mouth. He watches the kid, a five foot nine, one hundred and fifty pound Caucasian,
with short black hair; His shiny mousse filled hair repels the rain. He has tattoos around his neck and
wears a long, black trench coat. Walking down Western Avenue, he crosses the street and looks back;
He senses eyes following him, but doesn’t see Roy.
Every half block, Roy makes his move; damn, he’s fast for a guy who has the look and size of a
football player. The kid reaches his point, that church over there, the tall, ancient, dark building, with
ugly wicked looking creatures dangling around it, water gushes from their mouths.
Roy’s across the street between two buildings, using the newsstand as a cover to help hide his
presence. The kid has this mad look on his face; His brown eyes, full of fear and hate, looks up at the
rain; he feels something in the air. He shakes his head to the left and right; He knows somebody’s
watching him, but he’s too mad to even care. With brewing anger, the kid reaches for the handle, and
enters the front door of the church.
Outside, the drenching patters resound the pavement. Roy’s waiting, but he stands still, looking like
one of those mimes you see on the Promenade in Santa Monica; You don’t see him breathe, but he‘s
breathing, you don’t see him move, but he‘s moving. He looks at the top of the building and notices all
the oddly, hideous monstrous appearances of gargoyles, around the corners of the building; A smirk
goes over his face; there’s something about these statues which amuses him. During his muse, a frown
quickly paints his face; He smells it, that smell. The rain, as rivers, flow into his eyes, but he doesn’t
blink, not once. Roy’s got his eyes fixed on the top center of the building, right where the doors go up
toward one of the gargoyles, which arches over the entrance.
The weirdness of such events; everyone has faced one of these moments. It is where you feel
something in the room or around you, or in the air, but you can’t see it, where you get cold chills, but it’
s not cold, where you feel something dreadful, but nothing is there, and realize that there’s something
creepy and nasty going on, but you can’t place your finger on it. In these situations, most people get to
a location or point where they shake it off as nothing, and go about their usual business, or they get to
where people are, or to a television, or radio, anything that brings them back to regularity. Smelling
something when it is raining so hard and the poor visibility in the pouring rain makes it even more of a
horrible situation, that any sane person would escape; but not Roy, he smells it, and he’s waiting for it.
Three minutes, there they are, he sees them. They are black shadows, something that very few ever get
to see. At most, one is all a person ever sees in the glimpse of a moment, and most people don‘t ever
notice the shadow; But this time, There are a thousand of them. These shadows are unlike other
shadows, they move together as one. They are moving fast, all over the top of the building in swarms;
the dark glides towards the front door. Roy knows he only has a couple of minutes to take action. His
feet, although heavy, are fast as lightning. In just four seconds, he’s at the door. He never looks up or
around at the shadows; as he reaches to open the door, the shadows stop as in shock to see his
presence. They make no sound; they just look down at him as he enters the church. The door quietly
shuts behind Roy, as he looks into the dim lighted chapel with murals; there are candles on the wall
and marble everywhere. Roy walks through the foyer into the main chapel, where sits the kid up front.
He stops at the back pews and watches the kid. The kid is just sitting, and staring at the crucifix of
Jesus. He has no idea that anyone is watching. Two minutes, Roy smirks and walks forward. The
weight on his shoes makes a squeaking sound, causing the kid to turn his head a little, as he looks out
the corner of his eye, then back to the front, staring at the crucifix.
The Vampires Walk
Roy walks towards the right center aisle to the front of the chapel, his shoes drenching wet, his coat’s
soaked from top to bottom; he never once takes the time to wipe his wet face. As he walks toward the
front, to sit one pew behind, on the right side of the kid, who sits on the front pew, the kid shakes his
head in a negative way, while continuing to stare at the crucifix.
“What’s up?” says Roy, throwing his head back in an upward motion. “I ain’t trying to hear you bro.”
replies the kid. He bellows, “Oh, my fault dog.” Roy begins again, “Is this your church?” The kid is
looking over his right shoulder, down behind him, out the corner of his angry eyes, peering at Roy’s
shoes, in a wispy manner, “You the janitor or something?” “Naw man.” exclaims Roy. He notices the
kid looking down at his shoes.
“Oh, my shoes; you’re looking at my shoes.” With anxiousness, Roy explains, “These ain’t work boots,
I know they look like it, but I’ve worn these down a little bit; Actually, I had them specially made, and
they just wore out on me; These are my combat boots.”
Roy points over the pew at the kids shoes. “And you got on those big old black gothic looking
stackers, those look a lot like the ones I’ve got on now!” The kid is still looking forward at the crucifix
with that same mad look on his face. Roy starts to speak and is interrupted,
“I didn’t come here for talk.” “Word, word.” Roy gestures in a low tone, while nodding yes. “I’ve got
some business to take care of.” the kid says in a cynical tone.
“See, I came here for the same reason you did, I have some business to take care of too.” The kid
replies in a smart aleck way, “How do you figure?” “You don’t even know me bro, I didn’t come here
for prayer or for any forgiveness, I don’t believe in this religion.”
Roy expresses with enthusiasm, “See, I told you we came here for the same reason, I don’t believe in
religion either.” The kid, ticked off, speaks, “You don’t know what the fuck I’m here for!”
Roy gives a stern look at the back side of the kids face and begins, “You think I can’t see, I get it, you’
ve got all that black on and shit, fucking piercing everywhere, a long assed black trench coat and
combat boots with fricken chains everywhere straight up in the middle of church on a cold assed rainy
Monday night, and you ain‘t religious? Damn, a blind man could see that some shit’s about ready to go
down, dog!” Roy struggles with showing emotion, since his kind doesn’t really care to exercise
emotion, but he uses it to get his point across to the kid. The kid has a smirk on his face, while
thinking to himself that this Negro is amusing and funny, and really could see what was going on in
his head.
“You ain’t a pig.” says the kid, still looking at the crucifix. “Hell naw, I’d rob a liquor store, go down to
the local coffee shop where the little oinks hang out and smoke a blunt right in front of their face,
while eating a doughnut, cause I got the damn munchies.” Roy continues ranting, “Outcast hell, I
know all about being an outcast, fuck em, fuck em all! I don’t have no beliefs, I don’t believe in church,
I sure the hell don’t believe in these fake assed priest and preachers up in this place, from politics to
lunatics from aliens to ghost, hell, it’s all a game, and if your caught up in it, shit, you’re gonna get
played!”
In amazement of what Roy‘s saying, the kid with a frown, speaks out in rebuttal, “Everybody believes
in something, even atheist believe in something. They claim to not believe in anything, but the very
belief that they don’t believe in anything is a belief!” Roy interrupts “I don’t believe in atheist.”
“How can you not believe in atheist, they exist, they are there, they are real people.” Roy‘s smiling, he’
s being sarcastic. He begins again, just to see what the kid would say to him, “Just because I see them,
don’t mean I have to believe them.” The kid gets frustrated with Roy’s logic and makes a comparison.
“Do you believe that there is air?” “Of course I believe that there is air.” Roy, appearing wild eyed
with disgust. “Can you see air?” Looking curious, Roy is sure he can see air, but he doesn’t want the
kid to think he’s crazy, so he replies, “No, I can’t see air.” The kid speaks up, “So you believe in things
you don’t see, and don’t believe in things you do see.”
“Look, uh, what’s your name?” “John.” “I’m Roy.” He speaks in haste, “Look John, I can’t see ghost,
you know why I can’t see ghost, because they don’t exist! I don’t believe in ghost, I don’t believe in
aliens, devils, angels, witches, goblins, elves or fucking Santa Clause, okay?” John replies,
“Hey, I’m not saying that I believe all those things either, but there’s a difference in believing in what
people believe in and believing in the actual people that believe in those things themselves. There are
some things that are real and some things that are not. Take for instance, the people who run this
church, I don’t believe in their faith or their God, but I have respect and know that they are real people
who have beliefs.”
Roy replies to John, “Hey, don’t tell me that you don’t have beliefs in this religious malarkey, cause I
know you’re probably sitting right here thinking of a way to conjure up some kind of demon or
something to help you take care of your fucking business; Well that’s just bull shit, cause it ain’t real;
The only thing that’s real is the crazy mother fuckers that believe in this crap!”
John becomes hostile and replies, “You just fucking watch your mouth bro, because demons are real!”
Roy hits John’s nerve point blank; he can see it in his eyes, the hate, and the anger. John is one second
from pulling his 22 automatic from under his trench coat and blowing Roy’s head off.
John has this wild look in his eyes, not one blink, just a long hard ass stare of pure hate. Roy, being
aware of the tense moment, while looking right at John, who’s head is turned back fully, he starts to
say something, when John yells out in anger, “You mean to tell me that you don’t fucking believe in
nothing, No demons, witches, or vampires?” Roy’s eyes gets big, and in a surprising tone, “Vampires,
you didn’t say nothing about no damn vampires!” John doesn’t know how to respond and is
astonished. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me man! You believe in vampires, but you don’t believe
in demons or ghost? Shit, you’ve lost it bro, you’ve fucking lost your mind!”
The wild look leaves John’s eyes as he laughs inside, while he turns his head back around, facing the
crucifix, nodding his head, that someone is more twisted in their mind then he could ever be. It gets
silent for a half of minute, when Roy starts, “Vampires, shit, you don’t have to tell me about vampires,
that’s real!” John starts to let out these short silent chuckles.
“Vampires are real man, I’m serious.” John shakes his head in ridicule of Roy’s twisted humor of
believing in nothing, but believing in vampires. John answers, “How can you possibly justify your
belief in something that you’ve never seen and then condemn people who do the same, huh?”
Roy exclaims, “What the hell are you talking about man? See-see you don’t understand. Vampires aren’
t like the vampires you read in books, hear on the radio, see on television or watch at the movies; Naw
man, vampires are real!” “How do you figure?” John waits for Roy to explain it.
“Vampires are people just like you and me everyday, in everyday life. They eat, sleep, have sex, smoke
cigarettes, hell, you even see them in the daytime. You’ve just got to have eyes to see them, that’s all.”
John replies, “Vampires huh?” Roy wants to prove his point, “The average vampire doesn’t have fangs,
sleep in coffins, or turn into bats, or mice, or any kind of rodent; No, they are everyday people just like
you and me. John asking, “So how do you know what they look like?” Roy responds, “It’s not just
what they look like, but what they do, and how they act.”
“Most vampires are extremely athletic, they have incredible strength, but the freaky part is that they
don’t have to work out to get these nice bodies. Many of them are contortionist, it’s very hard to break
their bones, and if they do, they usually heal in a very short time frame, like a month or so. They can be
any ethnicity. Over seventy five percent of them are extremely attractive, and they are very seductive,
and addicted to sex; they have a certain charm about them.
Vampires are sensitive to light, especially the sun. Don’t be fooled though, they can go out in the day
light. With sunscreen, they can be out in the sun, but they do tend to have fair skin and can burn
easily. The one’s that are closer to death usually comes down with some sort of skin cancer; the extreme
cases are melanoma, which is known to kill them off in just a few weeks or months. Other
than that, they live long lives. Some of the stronger vampires fake their identity, because of their age.
Their aging is delayed, as the usual vampire lives to be well over a hundred.” By this time, Roy really
has Johns attention, as John who has turned his body all the way around, with his knees against the
back of the pew where he sits, his boots are hanging off the end of the seat, his trench coat is ruffled
from his twisted torso, he’s into what Roy is saying.
Roy looks at John who’s spellbound; It’s time for the know all catcher all response. He leans closer to
John’s face and makes his finale. “Above all, there are two most important things a person must know
about vampires. One; His eating habits.” John replies, “Is that right?” Roy speaks calmly, “Yeah, that’s
right. You have to know how and what a vampire eats. A real vampire doesn’t suck the blood from the
veins of his victim, but he could if he wanted to. They feast off blood, but it doesn’t have to be
humans. Vampires just love blood, any kind of blood; however, their other prized appetite for
drinking is wine, especially red wine. Red wine, because there are a lot of similarities between
drinking red wine and drinking blood. They love wine, red wine.
Besides wine and blood, their favorite food is steak, rare or medium rare. A vampire loves to eat red
meat, the more rare the food the stronger the vampire. There’s one thing you must know too; when
they’re eating, they get wild afterwards, or after they have feasted on such blood. It’s like they get
drunk off it. They love to party hardy. The nightclubs are their feeding ground, especially the ones
that sell steak and wine, and let’s not forget about all the sex that go on with the nightclub life.
The second and most important of them all is the walk.
Now, this is the shit, which separates the men from the boys! The vampires walk is graceful. They
almost walk on their toes at times. They look like stallions or professional Arabian dancing or walking
horses. There’s nothing more attractive but yet wicked as a vampires walk. Their legs are exotic. They
love to dance, but when they walk, it underlines the expression catwalk, cause these mother fuckers
can prance their asses off. Their spring is in their step, you’ve got to watch that shit!”
“Vampires?” replies John, in disbelief.
Roy gets up, walks around the right side saying, “John, I’m going to tell you a story of how I whipped
Dracula’s ass.” “Dracula, the Dracula?” John hisses. Roy sits next to John and gives him a serious look.
“The one and only Count Dracula, the same one you’ve read about in books, I mean the stories change
but the gist of it is still the same.” John speaks in a sarcastic way, “You beat Dracula?” “Yeah, I beat his
ass, that one you and everybody else calls Dracula. Dracula, he had that same walk, those same moves.
I don’t think there could have been a slicker more graceful, heartless, intelligent person who could
have coined such talent as in a walk. This shits magical!”
It’s raining cats and dogs, very cold and wet; a person could see his own breath in the darkness of this
dreadful night. Roy stands in the rain, no umbrella, wet as hell, but not one sign of a pant or even cold
air leaves his mouth. He watches the kid, a five foot nine, one hundred and fifty pound Caucasian,
with short black hair; His shiny mousse filled hair repels the rain. He has tattoos around his neck and
wears a long, black trench coat. Walking down Western Avenue, he crosses the street and looks back;
He senses eyes following him, but doesn’t see Roy.
Every half block, Roy makes his move; damn, he’s fast for a guy who has the look and size of a
football player. The kid reaches his point, that church over there, the tall, ancient, dark building, with
ugly wicked looking creatures dangling around it, water gushes from their mouths.
Roy’s across the street between two buildings, using the newsstand as a cover to help hide his
presence. The kid has this mad look on his face; His brown eyes, full of fear and hate, looks up at the
rain; he feels something in the air. He shakes his head to the left and right; He knows somebody’s
watching him, but he’s too mad to even care. With brewing anger, the kid reaches for the handle, and
enters the front door of the church.
Outside, the drenching patters resound the pavement. Roy’s waiting, but he stands still, looking like
one of those mimes you see on the Promenade in Santa Monica; You don’t see him breathe, but he‘s
breathing, you don’t see him move, but he‘s moving. He looks at the top of the building and notices all
the oddly, hideous monstrous appearances of gargoyles, around the corners of the building; A smirk
goes over his face; there’s something about these statues which amuses him. During his muse, a frown
quickly paints his face; He smells it, that smell. The rain, as rivers, flow into his eyes, but he doesn’t
blink, not once. Roy’s got his eyes fixed on the top center of the building, right where the doors go up
toward one of the gargoyles, which arches over the entrance.
The weirdness of such events; everyone has faced one of these moments. It is where you feel
something in the room or around you, or in the air, but you can’t see it, where you get cold chills, but it’
s not cold, where you feel something dreadful, but nothing is there, and realize that there’s something
creepy and nasty going on, but you can’t place your finger on it. In these situations, most people get to
a location or point where they shake it off as nothing, and go about their usual business, or they get to
where people are, or to a television, or radio, anything that brings them back to regularity. Smelling
something when it is raining so hard and the poor visibility in the pouring rain makes it even more of a
horrible situation, that any sane person would escape; but not Roy, he smells it, and he’s waiting for it.
Three minutes, there they are, he sees them. They are black shadows, something that very few ever get
to see. At most, one is all a person ever sees in the glimpse of a moment, and most people don‘t ever
notice the shadow; But this time, There are a thousand of them. These shadows are unlike other
shadows, they move together as one. They are moving fast, all over the top of the building in swarms;
the dark glides towards the front door. Roy knows he only has a couple of minutes to take action. His
feet, although heavy, are fast as lightning. In just four seconds, he’s at the door. He never looks up or
around at the shadows; as he reaches to open the door, the shadows stop as in shock to see his
presence. They make no sound; they just look down at him as he enters the church. The door quietly
shuts behind Roy, as he looks into the dim lighted chapel with murals; there are candles on the wall
and marble everywhere. Roy walks through the foyer into the main chapel, where sits the kid up front.
He stops at the back pews and watches the kid. The kid is just sitting, and staring at the crucifix of
Jesus. He has no idea that anyone is watching. Two minutes, Roy smirks and walks forward. The
weight on his shoes makes a squeaking sound, causing the kid to turn his head a little, as he looks out
the corner of his eye, then back to the front, staring at the crucifix.
The Vampires Walk
Roy walks towards the right center aisle to the front of the chapel, his shoes drenching wet, his coat’s
soaked from top to bottom; he never once takes the time to wipe his wet face. As he walks toward the
front, to sit one pew behind, on the right side of the kid, who sits on the front pew, the kid shakes his
head in a negative way, while continuing to stare at the crucifix.
“What’s up?” says Roy, throwing his head back in an upward motion. “I ain’t trying to hear you bro.”
replies the kid. He bellows, “Oh, my fault dog.” Roy begins again, “Is this your church?” The kid is
looking over his right shoulder, down behind him, out the corner of his angry eyes, peering at Roy’s
shoes, in a wispy manner, “You the janitor or something?” “Naw man.” exclaims Roy. He notices the
kid looking down at his shoes.
“Oh, my shoes; you’re looking at my shoes.” With anxiousness, Roy explains, “These ain’t work boots,
I know they look like it, but I’ve worn these down a little bit; Actually, I had them specially made, and
they just wore out on me; These are my combat boots.”
Roy points over the pew at the kids shoes. “And you got on those big old black gothic looking
stackers, those look a lot like the ones I’ve got on now!” The kid is still looking forward at the crucifix
with that same mad look on his face. Roy starts to speak and is interrupted,
“I didn’t come here for talk.” “Word, word.” Roy gestures in a low tone, while nodding yes. “I’ve got
some business to take care of.” the kid says in a cynical tone.
“See, I came here for the same reason you did, I have some business to take care of too.” The kid
replies in a smart aleck way, “How do you figure?” “You don’t even know me bro, I didn’t come here
for prayer or for any forgiveness, I don’t believe in this religion.”
Roy expresses with enthusiasm, “See, I told you we came here for the same reason, I don’t believe in
religion either.” The kid, ticked off, speaks, “You don’t know what the fuck I’m here for!”
Roy gives a stern look at the back side of the kids face and begins, “You think I can’t see, I get it, you’
ve got all that black on and shit, fucking piercing everywhere, a long assed black trench coat and
combat boots with fricken chains everywhere straight up in the middle of church on a cold assed rainy
Monday night, and you ain‘t religious? Damn, a blind man could see that some shit’s about ready to go
down, dog!” Roy struggles with showing emotion, since his kind doesn’t really care to exercise
emotion, but he uses it to get his point across to the kid. The kid has a smirk on his face, while
thinking to himself that this Negro is amusing and funny, and really could see what was going on in
his head.
“You ain’t a pig.” says the kid, still looking at the crucifix. “Hell naw, I’d rob a liquor store, go down to
the local coffee shop where the little oinks hang out and smoke a blunt right in front of their face,
while eating a doughnut, cause I got the damn munchies.” Roy continues ranting, “Outcast hell, I
know all about being an outcast, fuck em, fuck em all! I don’t have no beliefs, I don’t believe in church,
I sure the hell don’t believe in these fake assed priest and preachers up in this place, from politics to
lunatics from aliens to ghost, hell, it’s all a game, and if your caught up in it, shit, you’re gonna get
played!”
In amazement of what Roy‘s saying, the kid with a frown, speaks out in rebuttal, “Everybody believes
in something, even atheist believe in something. They claim to not believe in anything, but the very
belief that they don’t believe in anything is a belief!” Roy interrupts “I don’t believe in atheist.”
“How can you not believe in atheist, they exist, they are there, they are real people.” Roy‘s smiling, he’
s being sarcastic. He begins again, just to see what the kid would say to him, “Just because I see them,
don’t mean I have to believe them.” The kid gets frustrated with Roy’s logic and makes a comparison.
“Do you believe that there is air?” “Of course I believe that there is air.” Roy, appearing wild eyed
with disgust. “Can you see air?” Looking curious, Roy is sure he can see air, but he doesn’t want the
kid to think he’s crazy, so he replies, “No, I can’t see air.” The kid speaks up, “So you believe in things
you don’t see, and don’t believe in things you do see.”
“Look, uh, what’s your name?” “John.” “I’m Roy.” He speaks in haste, “Look John, I can’t see ghost,
you know why I can’t see ghost, because they don’t exist! I don’t believe in ghost, I don’t believe in
aliens, devils, angels, witches, goblins, elves or fucking Santa Clause, okay?” John replies,
“Hey, I’m not saying that I believe all those things either, but there’s a difference in believing in what
people believe in and believing in the actual people that believe in those things themselves. There are
some things that are real and some things that are not. Take for instance, the people who run this
church, I don’t believe in their faith or their God, but I have respect and know that they are real people
who have beliefs.”
Roy replies to John, “Hey, don’t tell me that you don’t have beliefs in this religious malarkey, cause I
know you’re probably sitting right here thinking of a way to conjure up some kind of demon or
something to help you take care of your fucking business; Well that’s just bull shit, cause it ain’t real;
The only thing that’s real is the crazy mother fuckers that believe in this crap!”
John becomes hostile and replies, “You just fucking watch your mouth bro, because demons are real!”
Roy hits John’s nerve point blank; he can see it in his eyes, the hate, and the anger. John is one second
from pulling his 22 automatic from under his trench coat and blowing Roy’s head off.
John has this wild look in his eyes, not one blink, just a long hard ass stare of pure hate. Roy, being
aware of the tense moment, while looking right at John, who’s head is turned back fully, he starts to
say something, when John yells out in anger, “You mean to tell me that you don’t fucking believe in
nothing, No demons, witches, or vampires?” Roy’s eyes gets big, and in a surprising tone, “Vampires,
you didn’t say nothing about no damn vampires!” John doesn’t know how to respond and is
astonished. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me man! You believe in vampires, but you don’t believe
in demons or ghost? Shit, you’ve lost it bro, you’ve fucking lost your mind!”
The wild look leaves John’s eyes as he laughs inside, while he turns his head back around, facing the
crucifix, nodding his head, that someone is more twisted in their mind then he could ever be. It gets
silent for a half of minute, when Roy starts, “Vampires, shit, you don’t have to tell me about vampires,
that’s real!” John starts to let out these short silent chuckles.
“Vampires are real man, I’m serious.” John shakes his head in ridicule of Roy’s twisted humor of
believing in nothing, but believing in vampires. John answers, “How can you possibly justify your
belief in something that you’ve never seen and then condemn people who do the same, huh?”
Roy exclaims, “What the hell are you talking about man? See-see you don’t understand. Vampires aren’
t like the vampires you read in books, hear on the radio, see on television or watch at the movies; Naw
man, vampires are real!” “How do you figure?” John waits for Roy to explain it.
“Vampires are people just like you and me everyday, in everyday life. They eat, sleep, have sex, smoke
cigarettes, hell, you even see them in the daytime. You’ve just got to have eyes to see them, that’s all.”
John replies, “Vampires huh?” Roy wants to prove his point, “The average vampire doesn’t have fangs,
sleep in coffins, or turn into bats, or mice, or any kind of rodent; No, they are everyday people just like
you and me. John asking, “So how do you know what they look like?” Roy responds, “It’s not just
what they look like, but what they do, and how they act.”
“Most vampires are extremely athletic, they have incredible strength, but the freaky part is that they
don’t have to work out to get these nice bodies. Many of them are contortionist, it’s very hard to break
their bones, and if they do, they usually heal in a very short time frame, like a month or so. They can be
any ethnicity. Over seventy five percent of them are extremely attractive, and they are very seductive,
and addicted to sex; they have a certain charm about them.
Vampires are sensitive to light, especially the sun. Don’t be fooled though, they can go out in the day
light. With sunscreen, they can be out in the sun, but they do tend to have fair skin and can burn
easily. The one’s that are closer to death usually comes down with some sort of skin cancer; the extreme
cases are melanoma, which is known to kill them off in just a few weeks or months. Other
than that, they live long lives. Some of the stronger vampires fake their identity, because of their age.
Their aging is delayed, as the usual vampire lives to be well over a hundred.” By this time, Roy really
has Johns attention, as John who has turned his body all the way around, with his knees against the
back of the pew where he sits, his boots are hanging off the end of the seat, his trench coat is ruffled
from his twisted torso, he’s into what Roy is saying.
Roy looks at John who’s spellbound; It’s time for the know all catcher all response. He leans closer to
John’s face and makes his finale. “Above all, there are two most important things a person must know
about vampires. One; His eating habits.” John replies, “Is that right?” Roy speaks calmly, “Yeah, that’s
right. You have to know how and what a vampire eats. A real vampire doesn’t suck the blood from the
veins of his victim, but he could if he wanted to. They feast off blood, but it doesn’t have to be
humans. Vampires just love blood, any kind of blood; however, their other prized appetite for
drinking is wine, especially red wine. Red wine, because there are a lot of similarities between
drinking red wine and drinking blood. They love wine, red wine.
Besides wine and blood, their favorite food is steak, rare or medium rare. A vampire loves to eat red
meat, the more rare the food the stronger the vampire. There’s one thing you must know too; when
they’re eating, they get wild afterwards, or after they have feasted on such blood. It’s like they get
drunk off it. They love to party hardy. The nightclubs are their feeding ground, especially the ones
that sell steak and wine, and let’s not forget about all the sex that go on with the nightclub life.
The second and most important of them all is the walk.
Now, this is the shit, which separates the men from the boys! The vampires walk is graceful. They
almost walk on their toes at times. They look like stallions or professional Arabian dancing or walking
horses. There’s nothing more attractive but yet wicked as a vampires walk. Their legs are exotic. They
love to dance, but when they walk, it underlines the expression catwalk, cause these mother fuckers
can prance their asses off. Their spring is in their step, you’ve got to watch that shit!”
“Vampires?” replies John, in disbelief.
Roy gets up, walks around the right side saying, “John, I’m going to tell you a story of how I whipped
Dracula’s ass.” “Dracula, the Dracula?” John hisses. Roy sits next to John and gives him a serious look.
“The one and only Count Dracula, the same one you’ve read about in books, I mean the stories change
but the gist of it is still the same.” John speaks in a sarcastic way, “You beat Dracula?” “Yeah, I beat his
ass, that one you and everybody else calls Dracula. Dracula, he had that same walk, those same moves.
I don’t think there could have been a slicker more graceful, heartless, intelligent person who could
have coined such talent as in a walk. This shits magical!”