Thrift Store Vampire

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I'd had some pretty elaborate costumes in the past. Sexy scarecrows and screen accurate proton packs aside, I was feeling pretty confident with this year's purchase which was impressive since it cost me less than a pumpkin spice latte.


Children were screaming in my neighborhood--more with the glee of sugar rushes than fear--and Mrs. Proctor had left her windows open, wafting out the scent of freshly baked treats. She was one of the few old ladies who could still get away with handing out homemade snacks and not having parents immediately chuck them into the trash bin. But these staples of the season weren't the reason for my current euphoria.


Twirling the new-to-me cape in the moonlight and glancing down to see the glowing red ring on my finger that I'd purchased at the peculiar thrift shop earlier today, I couldn't help but wonder if my suspicions were true. There was only one real way to find out. Well, two... but sunlight would be a much less favorable way to test my theory.


You see, as soon as I'd gone home and put on the second-hand retro vampire costume, I saw my incisors grow into fangs! Granted, before heading home, I'd also stopped by Patrick Moon's house to drop off a few buckets of fake blood that he'd purchased from our theater department for his annual Halloween Hoedown and I may have helped myself to a little too much homemade grog.


Nevertheless, I was certain that a Samhain miracle had transpired, bestowing the gift of immortality upon me! I was a regular Vampiric Cinderella. Princess of Darkness. At least for tonight. Which seemed a little brief for immortality but I suppose you get what you pay for.


Putting my theory to the test, I swooped back into Patrick's house at the end of the block, which was now in full-blown party mode. The place was packed with partygoers and fog machines were choking everyone out. A garage band was misplaced in the living room, playing barely recognizable covers of Danny Elfman songs. Most everyone was already drunk and those who weren't were busy filming those who were and taking selfies to prove to people they didn't actually know that they were, indeed, having fun.


This would be the perfect place to bite someone. A thought I never would have considered having before, but thrifting changes people.


The only question now was who would my test subject be? I wasn't going to kill anybody. I was just going to take a small nibble on a willing victim. For science.


As people danced around me and laughed with their friends, I felt myself getting hangry. Or fangry, in this case. I scanned the crowd for a familiar face so that I wouldn't feel like too much of a psycho. But as each second passed, I grew less and less discerning. Eventually, Patrick himself passed by me.


I grabbed his arm and pulled Patrick back.


Startled, he faced me and then recognition took over. "Nice costume! Is that vintage?"


I nodded, "Old world, I'm fairly certain."


"Sweet," he grinned. But when I didn't let go of his arm, he began to look uncomfortable. "Anything I can help you with?"


"Can I suck your blood?" I blurted out. Not exactly Count Smooth McGroove.


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