The Sort Of short stories

Sort Of short stories

The Sort Of Big Bad Vampire - 

With silent abandon, the creature moves towards the stairs, narrowly avoiding stepping on the squeaky baby toy thrown on the ground earlier.
It passes by the family cat who is sleeping off an exciting day of doing much of nothing, a cat thing, and proceeds towards the stairs.

Sharp nails click together in anticipation of the coming meal before it makes it's way up the stairs slowly, in case the stairs creaked.
Slowly but surely it reaches the top of the stairs and again clicks it's long nails, soon the feeding would begin, soon the blood would flow.

The dim moon light shows only a shadowy figure moving quickly towards a bedroom, the shadow not giving much of an idea on what the creature could be.
It reaches for the door lever and slowly pulls down, pushing the door open slowly and steps inside. There was it's prey, a young woman of maybe eighteen years of age. Her hair sprayed on the pillows as she sleeps, her breasts heaving up and down as she breathes, her skin looking soft.

It approaches the side of the bed she is sleeping on and clicks it's nails again, oh how the rich the blood will be!
It's mouth opens to reveal sharp looking fangs and it hisses in hunger – and receives a punch in the mouth.

"Bugger off, I'm trying to sleep!" The vampire begins to whimper and it's fangs fall from it's mouth.

"MUM! SHE HIT ME!" The 'vampire' cries.

"I'll do more than hit you if you don't get out of my room! Take your vampire obsession and bugger off!" The 'vampire' cries and runs from her room, defeated once again by his big sister.

So much for the big bad vampire.

~~

The Sort Of Ghost - 

Many seasons have passed since joining the afterlife, so many that he no longer remembers how he even died. In death time has no meaning, no hold, there is simply one moment to the next without any real hold like when you are alive.
Without that sense of time he glides from place to place seeking nothing, desiring nothing. Desire also has no meaning when you have passed beyond such things.

He wonders if maybe he could make his presence known in some way, like maybe some noise or try to interact with something that could bring attention to his non-existence. The living reacted to such things after all.
He sees an opportunity and makes his move, gliding quietly towards his target. No one was paying attention as he expected so it made it easier to near his target, his lack of form made it easy to not make any noise.

Reaching out to his target he tries to focus before grabbing hold - and receives a smack to the head for his efforts.

"Oh enough with this bloody ghost nonsense, first it was vampires twelve years ago and now it's ghosts! You're almost nineteen already, stop being so obsessed with this horror nonsense!" Can't I just get to pop by to see mum and dad without you pestering me with your spooky nonsense?" So not fair, his big sister didn't even scream in horror, she just looks at him with a mixed exasperation and anger. Ever since he was young he's been toying with her and she's always been fed up of it.

"I'm just playing!"

"I don't care! Grow up already!" He looks down in mixed shame and anger, he was just having fun, he's always been fascinated by all manner of things horrific and spooky.

"Maybe go easy on him, he's just playing and expressing his enjoyment of what he likes"

"He needs to grow up, mum, this nonsense won't be accepted in the real world"

"Maybe it might in an accepting environment, life's too short to not enjoy the things you like" So much for having any fun. He tears off his ghost costume, sighs and leaves the room. If growing up meant not being able to have the kind of fun he wanted to have then what was the point in trying.

"Hang on, wait, fine. Let's see if we can make that costume less naff and more spooky. It is Halloween after all and you might not get many chances to have much fun" Now that sounded like fun.

So much for growing up too soon, life's short.