Dracula Comes Out: Says “I’ve Been Unliving A Lie!”

By DuncanRhys C. Liancourt

––”I am Dracula and I can no longer lie to the world. I guess this is my coming out of the coffin moment. I just cannot NOT-live like this anymore; it’s too hard trying to be the myth when I only want to be the undead man I feel I am deep inside.

I do not like drinking human blood! There, I said it out loud. I know this is central to how others see me, but it’s just not my thing. I mean, it was OK at first. It tasted fine for a hundred years or so, and it kept me going. But it got boring and then it, I mean you all, started changing. What is it with the nachos? You people are like 90% over-fertilized corn by-products. I’m sorry, but you taste like a combination of motor oil, waxed cardboard, and bleach. Even worse, after only two pints of one of you I feel heavy and sluggish, and I have a vaguely familiar and singularly unpleasant rumbling in my nether region. Furthermore, with millions of species on Earth (there are 75000 arachnids alone), why would you think I would try only one? So typical of you humans, by the way, to assume you’re the best.

I do not like sleeping in my native soil. Whoever thought of filling a coffin with dirt anyway? The dirt goes on the outside. I remember when I first came to consciousness in my coffin that there was some dirt about, but that was just seepage. It clung mostly to my clothes and hair, and got in my ears, and I rid myself of it as soon I climbed out. What kind of housekeeper do you take me for? Why would I want to sleep in dirt? I prefer clean satin in my coffin, thank you very much.

Regarding the satin lining for my coffin, please know that I do not like black, red, or even white. What is the source of this lack of imagination when it comes to color? Would it unman me so if I were discovered amidst bedding in a warmer tone? Would paisley make you think me a pervert? It’s not the bedding only but the clothes. I know black is slimming, but as an animated corpse slimming is the least of my worries. Besides, how would you feel if you were expected to wear one outfit all the time, even on your days off? Keep in mind that though a full cape is quite practical in foggy London town it rather stands out when one is sipping jellyfish plasma out of a coconut poolside in the Bahamas.

Finally, to the ladies: all that neck nibbling, cleavage chomping, and décolletage devouring you are so passionate about––it doesn’t do a thing for me. I was faking. I know this wounds your pride, but I was totally faking it. I can prove it, can roll my pupils back, snarl like a rabid wolf, and make saliva drip tantalizingly off the tips of my fangs at will with nary a neck in site. I could perform with all of you in turtlenecks and parkas. The truth, ladies, is I’m a foot guy. Now you know the real me, so, pour some finely blended baby kuala-persian horned viper blood in those Jimmy Choo leopard print calf hair d’Orsay pumps and let’s party.

Oh, and look for my memoir ‘Just Vlad: How the Pain of Being Famously Undead  in a Living Person’s World Kept Me Buried’ available in hardcover and ebook in time for Christmas.”

One Response to “Dracula Comes Out: Says “I’ve Been Unliving A Lie!””
  1. Clare Keller says:

    Is that why the skin over the border between the tibial and lateral plantar portion of my left foot was itching on Halloween morning? Poor Dracula! Our bar is deficient, to say nothing of my shoe rack.

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