In the Hands of a Vampire Ch. 02

Vivian's POV

Twenty-one years old and where did I end up?

Vivian Addams was a damned rookie journalist. I was still a damned rookie after one year of my service in that pit of a paper, if you want to call it a paper.

I was brought onto the tabloid newspaper called Moonlight News as an intern, that was a year prior. I got fed up with doing the damned typical shit my boss Berger kept throwing at me. I wanted something juicier but apparently everything in the damned tabloid world was juicy because the majority of it was bullshit. I hated my assignments with a passion and wished I could have real passion for assignments much more up my damned alley, vampires.

God, I don't know what it was but something during my senior year triggered me to go ape over the idea of vampires. It was triggered by those mysterious deaths that happened in my own town that was your typical suburban hell. My Halloween article ran in the high school newspaper which practically made me the laughingstock of the entire community because I swore that there was something more of a supernatural nature that killed off those unwanted and scandalous women of my community.

I graduated and hightailed it out of there. I left behind my parents who continued their same day to day lives while Mother was Father's willing slave to the housewife trade. I refused to let that happen to me, so I got my ass out of there and hit the college circuit until I found myself at Moonlight News.

So, I spent a year and took bullshit assignments. I was fed up and finally marched my perky and round ass to the boss man's office then demanded something more tasteful than damn Satanic or Alien nonsense. I wanted to be the paper's lead vampire expert and refused to have a bunch of fictional crap printed under my name.

I presented him with the concept of a monthly article called In the Hands of a Vampire. Burger made the bargain that he would run the first article I come up with in a month's time, if it gets a good bite of interest he would think about a reoccurring article just for me.

It helped that I let him have an eyeful of my tits which thankfully got me many places in such a short time.

There it began, In the Hands of a Vampire was born as was Vivian Addams.

I dove head first in my dream of greatness and created my first real contact with the nearest police department, a rookie named Riley who gave me the information I needed to start me off on the right track. My expertise would lead me further down that track which followed into nearing 1970.

My article was so damned popular that it ran as center page within Moonlight News. My face graced that center page article, beautiful darkness was how I described my look. No more Mommy to deny me my precious makeup. So there I was, my lips were puckered with brilliant vibrant red while my baby blues were heightened by dark intricate liner and thick lashes.

My fans adored me, evident by the stacks of fan mail that landed on my desk nearly every week. I would correspond with my fans, left my signature pucker stained at the end of each letter with a spritz of my favorite orange blossom scent. Sure I got your occasional sucker who would write in detail how they wanted to suck me into ecstasy. I wished. Hell, I even got those letters that threatened, if I didn't stop my investigation works on vampires I would meet a blood drained end. I determined, they didn't have the balls.

I loved the direction my life was headed. I had a snazzy little one bedroom apartment decorated to vampire perfection with all my framed articles and movie posters of my favorite Christopher Lee Hammer Films. I developed my own unique appearance. I embraced my love for the luscious and the classic femme Vampira and my naughtiest idol of them all, Miss Betty Page. Oh, yes, I started to get all I ever wanted with one exception.

Where was my face to face with one of those undead beauties?

It was New Year's Eve in my big city of Atlanta. I spent the day and into the evening in my favorite little coffee shop, put together next month's article while the majority of folks were already wasted before the midnight hour of the new decade.

Near eleven, I had no choice but to leave the coffee shop since they prepared to close for the night. I tossed my tip then paid the bill and pulled on my black mink coat. I stepped out into that chilly evening.

On the sidewalk I heard the constant celebrations coming from all directions. I lit up a cigarette tucked between my puckered stunning red lips. I took a look up at the decent sized moon which had the sign of deep cold in the form of a glowing ring. I exhaled with the smoke visually thicker because of the mixture of my heated breath that blew into the freezing air. A nice night for a walk though most would think me nuts because, let's face it, the nuts truly came out on a frantic night of drunken celebration.

I turned on my six in heeled black suede and fur trimmed boots then strutted with my fabulous strut. It took me time to learn how to walk on such a height because of my years of being forced to wear nothing but tacky and unattractive flats.

Cars passed with the sounds of the cold under the weight of their tires as they passed over some packed snow lining near the curb. Snow wasn't totally rare in the south but it came that year with a bit more effort.

As always, I got some whoops and hollers from some drunken passerby hung out his window as he held a bottle of booze. Yep, I really felt nothing but confidence towards my fabulous beauty. My ego throughout the years broadened, yet there were occasions I felt my ego somewhat tarnished when another attempted relationship ended.

It seemed my relationships would last perhaps two months at the most because my career was more my focus than the man I was involved with. Honestly I didn't think they had what it took to deal with the likes of me. I was an independent woman and didn't need a man to provide for me. I simply needed a man to shower me with compliments and make sure my ego was well stroked. Besides myself, perhaps I loved my vampires more than any man who managed to get into my bed.

Yet, there was something else that I just couldn't put my red tipped finger on that seemed to also hinder my ability to keep a damned man in my life. Definitely something under sheets just never felt right. And I seemed to truly never attract my type. I always managed to snag those business men who thought I was the proper mistress because of my elaborate appearance, the opposite of prim and proper housewife material. Eventually they thought I would transform into that suburban submissive but they were mistaken because I loathed such a boring lifestyle.

I finished my cig and tossed it to the curb, let the snow and cold burn it out. I decided a cab would be better since my poor stunning curves were chilled, even through my thick fur coat.

I turned to the curb, looked both ways. There was only emptiness with echoing celebration that bounced off the buildings. I planted a hand on my hip and bitched at myself in thought, should have called a damned cab back at the coffee shop instead of the bright idea of walking. Just because I wrote about icy skinned individuals didn't mean I lacked warm blood. I too easily got chilled by icy temperatures.

My lips puckered as I tapped the tip of my boot against the curb.

"How much?" a voice asked from behind me.

My eyes narrowed. I angrily asked in thought, seriously, did I truly look that much like a fucking whore?

I gripped my clutch purse then spun around on my heels and struck the messy dirty blonde guy across his face. "Fuck off!" I snapped at the guy then shoved against his plaid shirt then pushed him aside and turned away.

I stomped down the sidewalk. Stupid fucking men, I shouted in my head, just because a woman stood at a curb doesn't make them a damned hooker!

I was fed up with the cold and had no intention to again be asked 'how much'. So I found the first warm and open to the public joint.

Thankfully around the corner I found a hustle of people coming in and out of a basement level place that looked like a club or bar. I had no care what kind of dive it was, I was freezing my panties off.

I pushed passed a few drunken huggers then stepped down some steps and heard the distinct sound of music and voices. I paused before entering, saw the photographed image of a sure looker of a woman who apparently hosted some party inside the joint for New Year's Eve, Regine.

I shrugged then shoved my way through the door, didn't care that I knocked the heavy door into a couple seemingly making out. I needed a damned drink after being assumed a common street walker, also something to warm me up, so I headed towards the bar. I paid no attention to the music or the patrons, minded my own damned business.

At the bar I plopped my round rear on a stool and shouted my order to a blonde muscle bound looking guy in a dress shirt and vest. "Hey," I shouted at him again as I tapped my long ruby nails against the bar top, "Hey, Hercules, gin and tonic, please!"

I shook my head then dug into my purse and pulled out my compact and tube of red lipstick. I eyed my lovely full lips, reapplied the red sheen over them then pressed them together.

The bartender slid my glass of gin and tonic before me. I gave him a quick smile then crammed the compact and tube back into the purse. I pulled out a twenty but he lifted his hand.

"Already taken care of, Miss." Mister Buff stated with a huge smile then went about his business.

Huh, I shrugged, fine by me!

I wrapped my red tipped fingers around the crystal glass then brought it my lips. My eyes finally decided to take a moment to scope the joint as I wondered who was kind enough to pay for my drink.

I never saw a place remotely like it. The joint was sorta classy and not completely filled with drunken idiots. I found the patrons somewhat complimenting to my appearance. Surely some classy folks painted up beautifully and dressed with different vintage fashions.

My eyes scanned and studied. I noticed quite a few individuals getting it on in darkened corners with some serious literal necking going on over in one corner. The woman looked positively intoxicated and in a good way. My lips slightly puckered against the rim of the glass as I took a good voyeuristic eyeful of the lovely couple. Wow, I chimed in thought, she sure loved having that man's mouth on the side of her neck. My left brow lifted curiously, something made me suspicious. Perhaps it was my brain filled with nothing but vampires that made me see things that weren't really happening.

My eyes shifted to another couple but this time it was a woman who lavished some serious mouthy action against a man's neck. I blinked then looked to a booth where a man sat with his arms stretched over the back of the seat with his head back and an expression of pure ecstasy over his entire face with lips gaped into a dazed grin. My eyes slightly squinted then watched a woman pop up from behind the booth table licking her lips.

I asked myself, okay, Vivian, what have you walked into? Had I stepped into a vampire wannabe kinks club where everyone was celebrating the arrival of a New Year and decade by getting all biting and sucking happy on one another?

I gulped down my drink and slammed the glass atop the bar. Perhaps I had warmed myself up enough. I looked down the bar at muscle man, "Hey," I shouted and he looked at me, "Got a pay phone in here or something?"

Mr. Muscles nodded then pointed passed me.

I gave a quick wave then tossed the twenty down on the bar top and shouted, "Thanks, doll!" I slipped off the stool then turned and saw a lit sign that indicated the pay phones.

I smoothed my hands down my rear then strutted forward. I moved passed some serious eyeballs that had a hard time maintaining their ogles. I didn't blame them, look at me.

I opened my purse and started to dig for a dime as I kept my pointed boots aimed towards the phones. In my determination to find a damned dime, I firmly bumped into another body. My purse dropped from my hands. "Shit!" I cursed then crouched in my snug high waist black satin pants and grabbed my purse.

My eyes looked forward, took quick notice of two quite expensive black hand stitched leather shoes. Hmm, I hummed in thought, nice. I wondered who wore such tasteful shoes.

My eyes lifted, firstly I eyed well tailored rich gray slacks with a very prominent pressed seam pleated down the center of the legs. I slowly rose up along with my eyes which followed that pleated trail up the length of those long legs. My eyes couldn't resist, made a dramatic pause right dab where I was curious what was beneath those expensive and fine made slacks.

As my legs straightened, my eyes moved passed a leather belt then followed the line of silver and onyx studded buttons that moved up the center of the fine material of a shirt a hint darker than the slacks. My head slightly tilted as my lips tensed their pucker. My eyes grew a bit wider and brow lifted. My eyes made a complete stop at a very nice set of lips and all I could think, great mouth.

I watched those lips move.

From a remarkable set of lips came a voice just as remarkable, "Excuse me."

I said, almost mesmerized by those killer lips, "No, Excuse me." a slight intrigued grin formed across my puckered lips then I added, "I wasn't watching, well, where I was going."

Wow, I couldn't remember ever seeing a mouth remotely that fascinating in, well, my eyes frowned. Huh, whatever, I shook it off. Those lips were quite an entertaining sight.

I finally pried my blues from those simply tasty looking lips then instantly found a positively remarkable face that went with those divine lips.

"Nonetheless," he spoke again, such a smooth tone, "I apologize."

"No need," I chirped, pressed my lips together and refreshed the red. I pulled my hand up with the silver dime pinched between my fingers then I quipped, "It was a pleasure running into you."

I reluctantly took a step to the side, stepped around that fine stunning example of manly perfection. I took a quick peek over my shoulder, took an eager glance down to discover an equally remarkable ass. My eyes lifted, discovered him looking over his shoulder at me then I watched those fabulous lips smirk.

I shrugged my shoulders and thought, he shouldn't walk around with an ass like that if he didn't expect certain eyeballs not to steal a look.

I puckered my lips then turned and found an actual indoor phone booth. I stepped into the booth and grabbed the phone. When I pulled it from the base I discovered the fucking steel metal cord so inconveniently snapped off in the middle. I slammed the damned thing down and huffed. I shook my head defeated by a damned pay phone then stepped out of the booth and unfortunately that stunner had vanished. I tossed my arms in the air then decided to spend my last hour of 1969 amongst a bunch of vampire wannabes.

I sauntered back to the bar and again shouted to the barkeep for another gin and tonic.

The pale version of the Incredible Hulk arrived and slid me another filled glass. "No luck, Miss?" he asked, "And don't worry, again, paid for." he added with a grin, "You're popular."

"Ha," I rolled my eyes then crudely stated, "And no, your fucking phone is broke and thanks to whomever." I grabbed the drink and toasted the purchaser of my drink, whoever it was.

I scooted my tooshy back onto the bar stool then peered out as more music began to play. I choked on a laugh, watched this crazy long blonde haired guy start partying by himself amongst others that tried to avoid being slammed into by his crazy moves. I shook my head and sipped my drink and thought, at least someone was having a good time.

I glanced at the neon clock above the line of liquor shelves, a half hour until the New Year. I scanned the joint again, discovered the earlier make out sessions and the booth blow job finished and the individuals vanished. My eyes moved over the slightly crowded dance floor and, bam, there he was, my run in. My lips puckered as I closely watched this obvious looker.

The stunning run-in escorted an equally lovely woman onto the dance floor. Well, damn, I pouted I thought, disappointed. I watched as he in oddly bowed to his partner in an almost old fashioned manner then watched the woman in red strangely curtsy. Man, I excitedly thought, this shit would make a seriously awesome In the Hands of a Vampire article!

I quickly dug out my pad and lucky pen. I used the bar top and set the pad down, proceeded to write as I sipped my drink.

It flowed from my pen like gothic poetry. My eyes watched the strangest dance which seemed so unlikely for the more modern music. It was like a gothic ballet of sorts. Oh, that was good, so I wrote it down. Gah, I wished the crazy guy in the bomber jacket would have stopped bouncing in the way of the positively gorgeous couple.

I started humming to the music and continued to enjoy my drink and inspiration.

"Vivian Addams?" a man's voice asked.

Yeah I wasn't impressed by that voice because it had no comparison to the stunner's voice. I bitchily asked, "Yeah, what of it?" I refused to look up from my writing.

"In the Hands of a Vampire, correct?" the guy asked with a strange tone.

I simply said with added bitchiness, "Yeah." Continued my focus on my writing and study of the couple.

Then whoever he was stepped in front of me and blocked my damned view.

My lips puckered with annoyance. I finally looked this black haired and pale faced tool in his beady brown eyes. I planted a hand on my hip and snapped, "Would you move, please!" I then shooed him with my hand and informed, "You're blocking my view." I leaned to the side, desperate to continue my observation.

Wow, I praised in thought, that tall, dark, and stunningly handsome 'run in' sure knew how to move that stylishly clad body of his.

That idiot commented, "Enjoying the drink I bought you, I see."

I quickly replied, "Yep, thanks." sounded as uninterested as I was then demanded, "Now move."

A bit frustrated by my bitchiness, he commented, "That's not very polite."

"Sorry," I said though I wasn't, simply wanted his ass out of my way. But that observation cock blocking moron wouldn't budge. And so I leaned back then grimaced at him and snapped, "I'm working here!" then I asked and lifted the pen before his narrowed eyes, "Can't you see the fucking pen in my hand?"

I shook my head, "Seriously," I grumbled then reminded him, "I didn't ask you to buy me the drink, now did I? So, what do you expect, huh?" my bitchiness continued, "Oh, you expected that I'm going to go all swoony because you purchased my fucking gin and tonic?" and my finally demand, "Fuck off!"

I wasn't in the mood to deal with assholes who think they had the right to get into my tight pants because they bought me a fucking drink.

I swear, he started to snarl at me which wasn't the first time for me but it was the first time I caught visual of what looked like damned fangs. That just fueled the bitch inside me, "Oh, is that supposed to frighten me into submission?" I snapped then laughed in his face and hinted my next snide move, "Here, asshole, take your drink back!" I quickly tossed the rest of the contents of my glass into his face.

I then shouted a more obscene and colorful demand, "Go suck a dick with your fake assed fangs, Dracula!"

I growled, had my inspirational moment severely hindered. I shoved my pad and pen back into my purse then twisted my rear on the stool and slipped off. "Fucking vampire posers!" I grumbled under my breath then questioned out loud, "Why do I always get the fucking lunatics?!"

With six inch heeled stomps and I stormed for the exit. At the door I shook my fists with frustration then swung it open. Immediately I felt the brisk chill strike me face on. My eyes rolled and reluctantly I stormed out of the weird assed club.