Dichtende Designerin

Written in collaboration with Nova

There is little more annoying than the feeling of knowing. Knowing, that soon, I need to drop the pretence of a safe, normal life and go out on the first big hunt of the month.

It comes at an all-too-inappropriate time. I was trailing through one of the books from my shelf that I must’ve read a hundred times before. Words came and went as they always did, as I readjusted to try and make myself more comfortable with this leather-bound heap resting between my legs.

I was fine, at first, reading to pass the time and knowing that this was me for the evening. Within an hour, a certain sort of blurriness set in, and I knew then that I was contending with the start of the Hunt. I stopped focusing. The book was familiar to me, and I knew the premise well enough to know what was coming next anyway, but as the world around me grew less and less clear, I found myself reading the same paragraph over and over.

Over and over. Over, and …

I carefully closed the book over my finger and sighed. If I had to see it one more time— if I had to face the fact that I was no longer reading, just staring at the formation of words on a page— then I fear I may have lost my wit.

As the men are wont to say, it was that time of the month. And I had the intuition that maybe a man was just what I needed this time around.

A plan began to form as fast as the migraine had. It started with the simplest of notions: getting a man. It had once been hard to do so; courtship was an entire process, and one could not simply find any old catch on the streets, for there was a more than decent chance that he was already enamoured, and wouldn’t so much as lift a finger towards another woman in fear of being seen as a cad.

These days, this was the simplest and perhaps the best part of the game. It was easy to find some lonesome man in the middle of a bar, or better yet, at a social club, where men regularly believe they stand the best chance at securing themselves a partner.

So, it was towards the social club where I centred my plan. A night out would surely do me no harm (little less than the headache I knew was only going to get worse the longer I hungered), and at the end of the night, it would be easy to find some poor sap and escape to his home under some sort of false notion that our „good time“ was due for continuation.

I left the book behind me on the table, and rose uncomfortably slowly. Given the time, I could fashion a good enough look to get me by, and give me the best chance possible to secure a partner for the evening. Someone unassuming would do it, he didn’t have to be anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps someone few people would miss; a man alone in a world of other people.

My plan was finally starting to take shape. I smiled to myself, almost in spite of the way it brought a further ache to my head.

First, medicate enough to be rid of this lack of clarity. Then, a social event.

That was the more desirable of plans. The less I had to deal with this, the better the night would turn out. Modern medicine was still a marvel, and sometimes I still found myself so fascinated by the results.

And once I got rid of this nuisance, I could invite my girlfriend over for a lovely night. Lavinia always knew how to make me feel better. She loved me so effortlessly, moved with grace and delightfully spoke her mind. I swallowed down a pill against my migraine with a sip of water.

Then, I headed into my walk-in closet to look for a fitting outfit. I disliked that nowadays, women no longer dress elegantly. Sometimes I thought they went outside still wearing their pyjamas, in loose sweatpants and oversized shirts. That could never be me! If my mother taught me one thing in her short life, it was how to dress to attract a man.

Of course, that knowledge didn’t help me to find a girlfriend, but it helped me to find the perfect victim. In pleasant anticipation, I ran my hands through the ruffles, silks and petticoats of my fancy dresses. A ball gown in blue silk with burgundy lace caught my glance. It was perfect! This would make me stand out, contrasted against the boring dresses and jumpers of modern women. Happily, I put it on. It would be easier with a maid, or with Lavinia’s help, but she must not know of my nightly endeavour.

Skillfully, I painted my high eyebrows and scarlet lipstick on. Pleased with my looks, I threw a kiss to the mirror and turned to leave the house for the nearest social club.

---

I arrived at the social club in a hurry. The medication lifted the migraine from my temple, but the thirst for blood only grew stronger. I wondered if doctors could make medication against it, if only they knew vampires existed.

The music playing over the speakers was a horrendous mix of some hip-hop artist and an electronic dance beat. When did they stop making good music? Was it 30 or 80 years ago? Why is the sound of a well-tuned piano and a soprano singer considered old-fashioned? Classical music is exactly what it says: classic, never outdated.

A quick glance around the club revealed two things: The women there were no competition for me. And the men seemed lonely and desperate enough. But I must not look desperate myself! So I went to the bar, and lifted up my ball gown so the ruffles of my petty coat didn’t touch the dirty floor. „A whiskey on the rocks, please“, I ordered and seated myself at the bar.

It didn’t take long for a man to stumble in my direction. „I have what she’s having!“, the man in his late forties shouted at the bartender. He shot me a surprised look when he got a whiskey on the rocks. „That’s no drink for a lady!“, he exclaimed.

„Why not?“, I replied angrily. Then, I remembered my plan and forced my face to smile. Mockingly, I looked him up and down. He was wearing a brown suit that might have been fashionable twenty years ago, but looked old-fashioned now. Fashion changed so fast in the last period.

„Do you come here often?“, he required, his speech already a bit slurred. This could work, I thought to myself. Be charming until you have him where you need him to be, I gave myself a quick pep-talk.

„No, I prefer the opera“, I replied with a sly smile.

„A sophisticated woman! Rare to find these days“, he complimented me and held onto the bar table for support. I faked laughter and teasingly placed my lace-gloved hand on his forearm.

„I believe it takes such sophistication to know it.“ My gaze met his. If I were any more interested, I’d have waxed poetic about how his eyes were the colour of warm, roasted chestnuts, but I wasn’t interested enough to pass a comment, even in my mind.

He laughed too. Passable. Socially polite. Maybe I’d made a good decision picking this man out of time, any of the other tight-shirted, loosely collared men wouldn’t have met my standards quite so well. „Maybe it does,“ he hummed, leaning forward against his drink. „The name’s Victor Timms.“

I looked down, and his hand was outstretched, waiting on a response. With a raise of my eyebrows, I took the opportunity and allowed him to take my hand in his. „You don’t see a lot of men with that name, if I may.“

„It’s my grandfather’s. And to whom might I owe such a pleasure?“

„Ethelinda.“ I bowed slightly, tipping my head. „And the pleasure is mine, I assure you.“ I could feel the disturbance in my stomach, and barely managed to suppress an eye roll. The time was drawing closer, and if I couldn’t get this man Victor out of this tiny place of terrible taste soon, then the chances were I would have to settle for more than just him.

I drew back a rather lengthy sip of the whiskey and relished in the after-burn. It was infinitely better than the progressive feeling that my stomach was beginning to fold in on itself, in any case. „So… What brings a man like you to an es— a place like this? Take no offence, but you don’t seem the type to frequent.“

„I’m not … this—“ he gestured around, staring straight into the electric light display as it flashed from green to red and back again. „—Isn’t usually my scene. I thought it might be interesting to see what all the fuss was about.“

„And? Is it to your liking?“

„Not really… But what about you? It hardly seems like you belong here either.“

„Not in the slightest, Victor. My endeavours tonight were much the same as yours. Simple curiosity, that’s all.“ I shot him a knowing look, applying every method my mother would’ve advised to make myself appear more maidenly. What he didn’t know wouldn’t always hurt him, after all … „And I believe I found exactly what I was looking for.“

He smiled coyly. I fear I may never understand the fantasies of the men, it is a truly baffling notion that I wish never to explore …

„Is that so?“

„Indeed it is. As it seems, there’s nothing here for either of us but libations and the promise of more of this drab music, might we take this someplace else?“

He rose from his seat, and I watched his shoulders slacken. „Right this way.“

---

„This is a very nice place“, I remarked, unable to camouflage my sarcasm. His studio apartment consisted of a small kitchen and a dark bedroom with a mattress on an old, unpolished wooden bed frame and thick curtains drawn close.

„I know it’s not a sight to behold, but it’s enough for my needs and I’m sure I can satisfy yours, too“, he assured me. His confidence made my skin crawl and I could barely hold back the look of disgust that crept on my facial features. The thirst for blood kept ravaging through my body, making it impossible to focus on our conversation.

„Lie down on your bed, I have a special surprise for you, Victor Timms“, I demanded and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of my ruffled bag.

„Oh, this is getting quite exciting!“, he said with wide eyes and made himself comfortable on the bed. „Shouldn’t I undress first?“, he inquired.

„No, I will undress you later.“ A false promise. I intended to look for a thick vein, and drink delicious blood from it. Almost more innocent than his dirty thoughts.

Promptly, I cuffed his greedy hands to the old bed frame. His look of barely held-back desire made me sick. „You are exactly where I want you to be“, I assured him with a grin. His excitement was visible, not only in his scrawny features but also in the bulge under his pants. Let’s get this annoyance over with, I pleaded with myself.

In a swift movement, I lifted my skirts and sat on his chest. His hot breath trickled down my neck as I leaned down, looking for a thick vein to bite. There it was! Pulsating, inviting me to drink from it. „Hold still while I bite you“, I advise him.

„I’m not really into being bitten“, he squirmed. A grin showed my sharp teeth as I slammed them down in his neck.

It felt so good, to finally replenish the blood I lost during this cycle. Greedily, I drank more and more of his blood. He desperately tried to get away from me, fighting against his shackles and contorting his body to throw me off. My blood lust was stronger than his desperate attempts to free himself.

As his blood trickled down my throat, I felt at ease with my body again. My power came back and I couldn’t stop myself from drinking him dry. His body contorted one last time, and then he laid there, no longer moving. Shocked, I got up and looked at the lifeless, blood-drained corpse my unleashed desire left.

I didn’t feel much remorse, sometimes this happened. I got used to it and it got easier with time. Still, this didn’t need to happen. Where corpses are, cops start sniffing around. My plans for this evening didn’t entail getting rid of a corpse. So I just left his apartment and put up a note in the hall, stating that there was a package for Victor Timms but he didn’t open the door. They will find him quickly. I took one last look of pity, then I closed the door behind me.

My phone vibrated in my ruffled bag. Lavinia gifted it to me so she could reach me. Carrier pigeons have become obsolete in the digital era. Her message read: „Where the fuck are you??? I’m at your apartment right now, and you are not here. Why did you invite me over and then don’t show up? I’m so mad at you! I deserve to be treated better, with love and respect. Come home now or our relationship is over!!!“

I daresay I knew what I was letting myself in for before I could even reach my apartment, so I spent much of the entire journey preparing some kind of excuse in order to cover what I had done, and to not arouse suspicion.

When Lavinia had gifted this device to me, she also taught me how to use it— to some extent, at least. I briefly stopped in the middle of the hallway by a mirror. They tell tales of the ancients not being able to perceive their own reflection, and once upon a time, that was true. These days, though, it does well to note that there isn’t an ounce of telling blood on my face. At least Lavinia wouldn’t notice that anything untoward had happened.

While I was there, pretty certain that nobody was around to witness my pause, I thought up and sent a quick response to her, so as not to keep her waiting too long.

„I am sorry, my darling, there were a few errands I had to run. I will be there as soon as possible.“

I checked over my appearance one final time, and made my way out of the building and towards my own.

---

Lavinia was waiting for me by the time I returned to my apartment, and one look at her told me she wasn’t best pleased at all. She was standing rather than sitting in her preferred position on my couch, and her arms were folded over her chest. I tried my hardest to appear unassuming as I walked through the door, but I was already pretty certain I was at a loss from just the fact that I was wearing a ballgown to an errand run.

„I hope you haven’t been here long, my darling,“ I hummed, laying on the innocence in my tone as much as I could.

„Where have you been?“ She asked. Her tone was bordering on harsh and accusatory, but until she either heard my side of things or found some evidence or other that she wasn’t a particular fan of, she was trying to keep herself level.

„As I said, I was running a number of errands, I just needed to—“

„— Dressed like that? What do you take me for?“

„I’m sorry?“

„You’re wearing a ballgown, Ethel…“

I glanced down on myself, taking in the finer details of my dress, and then looked up towards her with a certain air of pride. „I’m much aware. Am I not permitted to look my best on any occasion?“

„I didn’t say that, it’s just—“ she advanced towards me, and then stopped abruptly. Something had caught her attention, and it was only a matter of what. Had I inadvertently left blood on my dress? Had I promised to pick something up the next time she paid a visit and neglected to think about it?

„What’s wrong?“ I asked carefully, watching her nostrils flare.

She thought on it for a moment, sniffed at the air again, and her brow drew. „Is that… Is that cologne?“

Lavinia moved closer, sniffing nearer me and crinkled her nose in disgust. „That is a very musky cologne! It certainly is not the flowery cologne you spray your clothes in“, she accused me, stating the facts. Her eyes got teary as she processed that information. I studied her face carefully, finding both shock and repugnance in it.

„Are you cheating on me? With a man?“, she screamed in her high-pitched voice, throwing her hands in the air.

My shoulders slumped as I realized I could not hide my dark secret from her any longer. Slowly, I shook my head and desperately tried to bring my thoughts in order.

„No, of course not! It isn’t what you think. It is something entirely different, I promise“, I tried to calm her down.

„Different how?“, she enquired, her face red with anger.

For once, I was at a loss for words. How could I explain the Hunt? The thirst for blood I had to quench? She wouldn’t understand. I couldn’t hold that against her.

„Ethelinda, you owe me an explanation“, she kept pressing. I pressed my fingers against my temples, searching my soul for an answer that made sense to her. The truth was too brutal, yet she deserved to know. Maybe our relationship could be saved if I were honest with her.

„I will tell you the truth“, I announced, the fear pulsating through my veins. There was no beautiful way to put it. I had to be honest if I expected her to stay with me.

„I am a vampire.“ The words hung heavy in the air between us. Her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

„This is not the time and place for a twisted joke“, she stated, a hurt look in her beautiful eyes.

„I am not joking, Lavinia“, I assured her.

She was taken aback. „Oh, you are serious? You are really a vampire?“, she shouted, putting distance between us with a step back.

„Yes, but do not fear me. I only hunt men. I would never hurt you, darling“, I guaranteed her, stepping forward and clasping my cold fingers around her warm hand.

„You … hunt … men?“, she stammered, fear creeping in.

„I was at a social club, looking for a male victim“, I continued telling the truth. „I found a lonely man. We went back to his apartment where I sucked him dry. Worry not, darling, I would never bite your pretty neck.“

My reassurance fell flat. She shot me a bewildered look, pulled her hand back and fetched her purse.

„I can’t do this“, she muttered to herself. „My girlfriend is a vampire; what the actual fuck?“

„Lavinia, please stay—“, I begged her. She rushed to the door.

„No, I can’t! I can’t believe you murdered an innocent man! What the fuck is wrong with you?“, she screamed back at me.

„Please, sit down and let me explain“, I pleaded. She shook her head decisively, sending blonde locks flying in all directions.

„It’s over“, she said with a sad smile. The door fell shut behind her.