Language in the Blood

by Angela Lockwood

  Chapter 20: Klaus

  In 2010 I decided to explore the darker side of the internet a bit more. I had found that it was the only place I could truly be myself. I was amazed to discover that there were chatrooms where vampires actually talked to each other about their experiences and dark fantasies. I suspected that most of these characters weren’t actually vampires, but when Gothgirl-67 described experiences that were so close to my own, I wondered and tried to make contact with her. I had chosen the name MacFangs for the vampire chatrooms.

  MacFangs: So Gothgirl, what’s your favourite human prey?

  Gothgirl-67: I like young women, their soft necks really turn me on.

  Alarm bells started ringing. Why was there always an unusual sexual undertone with these people? I reckoned myself to be quite a broadminded, modern vampire at that point, but 95 years or so on I still wasn’t bored of girls or willing to change my sexual orientation. I had tried a man once in the seventies when a wealthy art dealer in his forties had propositioned me at a party and asked me what it would take to make me come home with him. He was dressed in a safari suit – fashionable at the time – and with his black, thick-rimmed spectacles he did look a little like Yves Saint Laurent. I spotted a gold Rolex watch on his wrist and while I thought them ugly, I knew they were worth a lot. He saw me looking at it and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Expensive pretty thing, you are!’ He took his watch off and took me home to have his way with me. It wasn’t totally dreadful and I did repeat the experience a few times as it was so lucrative, but I just found the bits on a girl way more interesting. I had my suspicions about Gothgirl, but carried on the conversation anyway:

  MacFangs: Do you like them flavoured?

  Gothgirl-67: What do you mean flavoured, like strawberry and stuff?

  MacFangs: Not a big fan of strawberry myself, strawberries are over-rated.

  Gothgirl-67: So, you rub them with something before you bite, like BBQ sauce?

  MacFangs: No, that would be weird; anyway I think you’re a fake otherwise you’d know what I meant!

  Gothgirl-67: No, you are a fake and MacFangs is a dumb name!

  I realised I was probably chatting to a 14-year-old girl who had read one too many vampire novels so I left the chatroom. QueenofFangs had also described the taste of blood and what it was doing to her rather accurately. It was a few years and chats after we first engaged that we had the following conversation:

  QueenofFangs: Strange how garlic is so poisonous, yet when it has entered into the blood stream it does add a very nice hint of something.

  MacFangs: It’s like that Japanese fugu fish I’ve read about – you just leave a smidgen of poison in its liver to give it flavour but too much and it will kill you.

  QueenofFangs: Oh God, do you think it could kill you if someone had eaten a lot of garlic.

  MacFangs: I’m sure it would be ok, not even sure if garlic does actually kill you. I stick to a Mediterranean diet; how about you?

  QueenofFangs: I agree, the Mediterranean is really the best place to feed.

  QueenofFangs: Especially if you throw some Chateaux Margaux into the mix.

  MacFangs: You have expensive taste, but I have to admit that I have a weakness for champagne.

  QueenofFangs: I like to eat well LOL.

  MacFangs: That is the wonderful thing about the Mediterranean; you can eat very well here ILMAO

  QueenofFangs: Would you believe there are weird f**kers that feed on dog!

  MacFangs: Nanette?

  QueenofFangs: F**k I thought that might be you!

  We both quickly left the chatroom and made sure we were never in the same one again.

  It was in a chatroom in around 2010 that I came across Klaus or IMtasty45, as he was known online. He was in a chatroom where so called vampires chatted with people who wanted to get bitten. Klaus seemed to have a desperate need to have his blood sucked and I decided to explore this further; the idea that people would willingly let someone bite them and suck their blood seemed bizarre to me, but by now I had learned that there is no species stranger than man.

  MacFangs: So IMtasty45, how old are you?

  IMtasty45: Does it matter?

  MacFangs: Not really, I’ll bite anyone, just wondered.

  I wouldn’t bite just anyone, though. Wrinkly old men were really not my favourite.

  IMtasty45: Where do you want to bite me MacFangs?

  MacFangs: I think the wrist, I don’t want to leave any tell-tale marks.

  IMtasty45: If you wanted to I would let you.

  MacFangs: My dear man do you think once you let me in you would have a choice?

  I knew this would make him hot under the collar; he was the ultimate submissive victim. I had no illusions as to what Klaus was doing at the other end of the web, knowing it would probably involve a box of tissues.

  IMtasty45: Would you hold me captive and feed on me?

  MacFangs: Yes, I would tie you up and feed on you for weeks.

  IMtasty45: Would you kill me?

  MacFangs: No. I would just leave once I fancied a different flavour of human.

  There was a pause in the typing. Was he disappointed with this answer?

  MacFangs: I could kill you, I would quite happily kill you, but we vampires don’t like to leave too many bodies behind.

  IMtasty: Yes, very wise. I would like you to feed on me.

  After chatting with Klaus for several weeks, I decided to make contact with him directly, I had the impression he was serious about his vampire fetish and was intrigued to see how far it would go. He’d told me he lived in Frankfurt, Germany, and had been trying to meet someone who was willing to play out his vampire fantasy with him for many years. I made arrangements to go to Germany and meet him.

  ‘George! I’m going away for a few days,’ I said, excitedly.

  ‘Do you want me to go with you?’ George asked, surprised

  ‘No, I think this will fall under the “I do not approve, Cameron” section,’ I said smiling mischievously.

  ‘What are you up to?’ he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

  ‘I promise no one will get hurt,’ I said smiling gleefully, ‘well, not much and entirely voluntarily!’

  ‘May I ask where you are going?’ he asked, wondering what I was up to.

  ‘Germany.’

  ‘What the hell are you going to do in Germany? You’ve never needed to go there before?’ George became quite agitated at the news. What is his problem?

  ‘Listen George. I think it’s about time you forgave the Germans too. They’ve given us rather wonderful cars and I’m sure it’s a beautiful country full of fascinating people,’ I went on cheerfully.

  ‘Where exactly are you going?’ he asked, still very suspicious.

  ‘I’m going to Frankfurt to see a man I met on the internet.’

  ‘Since when are you into blokes?’ he asked, surprised.

  ‘I’m not going for that,’ I told him.

  ‘And it is just Frankfurt?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes George, just Frankfurt,’ I said, trying to sound weary now. George’s reaction had been odd, but he seemed to calm down a bit at this and began helping me with the preparations.