Language in the Blood

by Angela Lockwood

  ***

  Frankfurt am Main was a very large modern city, and as with many German towns we allies had made rather a mess of things. The place had been rebuilt in a grey and uninspired way, but the town centre had some impressive skyscrapers that housed Germany’s financial heart. As it was nearly daybreak when I arrived, I decided to spend the day exploring the metro and meeting up with Klaus at nightfall.

  Klaus had become more cautious when I announced I wanted to meet him and we had agreed to meet in a public place first. I was looking for a man with a brown coat and purple scarf on the Römerberg Platz, a square the authorities had decided to restore in part to its former glory after we Allies had rearranged the bricks of the old buildings. I wasn’t sure about it; it seemed wrong to me to totally rebuild something that had been destroyed. Some of the buildings looked too new, and gave the impression of being a theme park.

  I spotted Klaus and was not surprised to see a slightly balding, blond man in his forties with glasses. He was wearing beige trousers and a brown sports jacket, and simply oozed dullness and poor taste. He was looking around nervously. I had imagined him as a not very attractive loner, who was socially awkward and spent most of his life on the internet, and it looked like I’d been right.

  Well Klaus, let’s make your day, I said to myself. A man like Klaus would not have expected a very attractive twenty-something like me to show up.

  ‘Hello Klaus, I’m Cameron,’ I said holding out my hand.

  ‘Hello… Cameron… your German is very good,’ he blurted and I could see he could scarcely believe his eyes. His warm, clammy hand grabbed my own.

  ‘Yes. I’ve had a few run ins with your people over the years and picked the language up in “drips” and drabs,’ I explained.

  ‘And you are very young,’ he said, looking pleased and excited.

  ‘You know us vampires, we don’t age,’ I said, winking at him.

  Klaus laughed nervously and suggested we should go for a beer. Beer is not my favourite flavouring, but I wanted to put him at ease.

  ‘You have a beer. I’ll watch,’ I said and I led him to the nearest beer cellar.

  After a few drinks, Klaus plucked up the courage to ask me back to his place. I said I needed a place to stay and he agreed to let me stay at his apartment. We drove my car out to a rather colourless suburb where he owned an apartment.

  The apartment was large and, looking around it, I realised that home decor was bottom of Klaus’ list of interests. Everything was brown or beige except for a rather odd-coloured greenish carpet on the floor. Maybe he’s colour-blind! He led me to the bedroom, where Klaus had obviously tried to use his imagination – with disastrous results.

  He had decorated it like a 1970’s porn set, with a tiger-stripe bedspread and some lava lamps. I was not surprised that his computer was located in this room. I’d never seen anything that would turn me on less! I quickly walked back out trying not to laugh.

  Then he showed me to his small spare bedroom which was as colourless and boring as Klaus himself. There was a dull orange, synthetic bedspread on the bed which I thought I might burn if I got bored, but I was pleased to see the room didn’t have any windows. I put my bags resolutely on the bed. Surely I can live with ghastly surroundings for a while if it involves easy food?

  Klaus offered me a drink, but I was feeling hungry by now.

  ‘So Klaus, you want me to drink your blood?’ I asked him when we sat down on his couch.

  ‘I... er... I do,’ he stuttered. ‘How… how are you going to bite me?’

  He looked distinctly nervous now that he was actually confronted with his fantasy. Be careful what you wish for, I thought to myself as I took out a small scalpel.

  ‘Best not to make any bite marks,’ I said, as I showed him the scalpel with a reassuring smile. I was worried Klaus might freak out if I let my fangs protrude and revealed myself to be a real vampire. The thing I had learned about fantasies over the years is that they need to remain fantasies, so I made a small incision in his left arm and proceeded to feed, trying to be as human as possible about it. It wasn’t hard as his blood had an odd flavour. I could see by the shape in his trousers that this was very much doing it for Klaus. I pulled away when I’d had enough.

  ‘Klaus, really! You had Sauerkraut for dinner, didn’t you!’ I cried in disgust.

  ‘Er... yes… you can taste that?’ he asked, surprised.

  ‘Yes. And I don’t like it,’ I said moving away from him in distaste.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he looked shocked and I knew he would be eager to please; he had taken quite a fancy to me.

  ‘We’ll put you on a Mediterranean diet for a few days and then try again,’ I told him in a stern voice.

  ‘Of course, Cameron. Anything you say,’ he assured me.

  ‘Now, go to bed and get your strength back. I intend to use you for a few days more.’ I dismissed him with a wave of my arm. He got up and obeyed without question. I knew he probably wouldn’t be asleep for a while in the other room; his fantasy had just come to life.

  He left me by myself the next day, as he had to go to work. He’d told me he worked for an insurance company in the city and that he had done so since he’d left school. I was glad to be rid of him for a few hours as we had very little in common apart from our internet use.

  For the next few days, Klaus stuck to a diet of pasta and pizza and I even got him to drink a bottle of fine champagne. I’m not sure if he trusted me alone in his apartment, but he was desperate for me to stay. Luckily for him, he had nothing I wanted.

  ‘Let’s see if you have improved, Klaus,’ I said to him after a few days.

  He had drunk the bottle of champagne and was getting a little touchy feely. I cut him in his other arm and a bit deeper than I had meant to. Klaus whimpered, but the sharp pain seemed to arouse him even more.

  ‘Good boy! You have improved. Really very good!’ I told him after I’d fed for a while.

  I was bandaging his wound, hoping it wouldn’t leave too bad a scar, when Klaus launched forward and tried to kiss me. I grabbed him by the throat and squeezed hard, then I looked into his eyes and hissed, ‘You are food! You do not have the right to touch me!’ Knowing Klaus, this would only make me more desirable, but I had just fed well and I didn’t care.

  Klaus bored me rigid and I needed to leave. By the end of the week I was able to make my escape. Klaus was quite drunk on champagne and wanted me to watch porn with him, hoping it would get me interested in him. I persuaded him to let me cut him again and he agreed, but I tasted a strange flavour on him.

  ‘You had bratwurst!’ I yelled in disgust

  ‘I... I… it was lunchtime! How can you even taste that?’ He looked at me scared and confused.

  ‘Honestly, Klaus!’ And, with that, I packed my bags and stormed out with Klaus pleading and begging the whole way to my car.

  The internet. It’s a wonderful thing!