Being a Vampire Really Sucks
You know, being a vampire really sucks.
For one thing, you're never warm. Doesn't matter if you pile on the sweaters, 'cause the internal radiator just ain't working anymore. I picked up smoking from Bleach Boy so I could feel the heat coursing through my lungs. Don't ask me how non-breathing dead things can inhale; I still haven't figured that one out yet.
Chain-smoking helps with the being cold 24/7, but it makes me totally reek. I can't stand being Xander the Vampire Stink-meister. I'm not saying other people find my odor offensive, but this whole enhanced sense of smell business is a bitch. After lighting one cigarette, it's like standing in the middle of a burning tobacco plantation. And Spike wonders why I'm on edge all the time. I can never decide whether I'd rather freeze my ass off or have the Marlboro Man live up my nose.
Spike is the big, stupid jerkwad who dragged me into this cold, stinky Hell. He thinks it's hilarious that I'm undead, because he knows how much I can't stand vampires. I know what you're thinking. Fangless has that chip in his head, so how could he possibly have turned me?
After Buffy died, the vampire population in Sunnydale exploded. You'd think the Hellmouth was having an Undead Pride celebration, 'cause all the vamps were partying in the streets and drinking blood like it was on tap. With no Slayer in town, everything started to fall apart.
First Willow got eaten by some zombies, then Tara accidentally transported herself into another dimension. Anya freaked out when the going got tough and hooked up with D'Hoffryn again, and later Dawn ate Giles after her new vampire boyfriend popped more than her cherry. What is it with Summers chicks and vampires, anyway?
And me? A gang of vamps trounced me when I tried to rescue a couple of girls one night. The girls got away, I didn't. Spike found me drained on the sidewalk and thought he'd pull the ultimate prank by bringing me across.
When I woke up vamped, I was so pissed, I kept trying to kill Spike. He chained my wrists to my ankles and let me roll around his crypt like an angry potato bug for two days until I calmed down and promised to behave.
Jerk.
So here I am, still in Sunnydale, the last remaining original member of the Scooby Gang. Except now instead of helping people, I kill them. Major career change, huh?
I'm ambivalent about the whole concept of eating people. On the one hand, the demon inside of me gets really stoked about all the slashing, biting, fighting and screaming, and I can't get enough of it.
But at the same time, I still remember the man I was and what I believed in, especially that I never, ever wanted to become a blood-sucking freak. I may not have a soul anymore, but knowing that I've turned into my absolute worst nightmare keeps me from fully enjoying my new unlifestyle. Hence the massive suckage.
It's so weird. Losing my soul turned me into a killer, but in many ways I'm still the same old Xander. I still feel the same things I did before, except now I'm more ruthless about satisfying my needs. I don't give a crap about rules, morals or what other people think, and all my old urges are a hundred times more intense. Without a soul, I'm free to do all the dark, nasty things I'd never let myself do when I was alive.
Like moon old ladies at the nursing home...right before I rip their throats out. Or steal cookies from little girls...right before I eat the entire Girl Scout troop. Or ruin the end of a movie for people as they walk to the theatre...right before I put their lights out permanently. Evil, thy name is Xander.
No siree Bob, there isn't a lid on the id of this kid anymore. As Vamp Xander, I'm even hungrier for attention, food and sex. I thought I had a massive libido before I died. Now I'll fuck anything that moves, and some things that don't.
That's the only good thing about being a vampire. Suddenly I'm the dark, dangerous, cool guy, and I never have any problems getting a little horizontal action like I did when I was loser Dork Boy. I sure wish I had a bottle of this vampire pheromone stuff back when I was sixteen.
The heightened sex drive isn't the only reason I sleep around. I crave the companionship, even if it is only temporary. The heat from their bodies takes the terrible chill away, and for a few moments I can delude myself into thinking I'm needed again, that I have someone to love. The fantasy never lasts long, because I always get hungry after sex. Seduce 'em, then kill 'em. Faith would be so proud of me.
Spike, however, is less than thrilled with my behavior, and has taken to calling me Dead Xander Whore. When did he become such a hypocrite? Spike doesn't exactly keep his Dick Grayson tucked away in the Bat Cave all the time, you know.
I thought he got on my nerves before I died, but the hundred times more intense rule applies to his annoyance factor, too. He and I get along like napalm and Cheez Whiz. It's all I can do not to blow up at him every moment we spend together.
Like when we go out hunting, he's a total back seat serial killer. He can't bite anyone, so he always has to criticize and point out the "proper" way to kill humans. "Not like that, Xander! You'll nick her collarbone, Xander! Bite her higher on the neck, Xander!"
Sheesh! I can't stand how he acts like he's the boss of me. He even wants me to call him "Sire!" Yeah, right, in his dreams. He's lucky I feed him at all after the way he treats me. Fangless needs me, or he'd be stuck sucking rat juice and pig puree for the rest of his life. I'm the one putting blood on the table, so he really needs to get off my back.
He's so totally jealous of me, too, because I can kill humans whenever I want. I don't know how many times I've had to listen to him bitch about how lucky I am, and that I shouldn't complain about how much I hate being a vampire, when he'd give anything to be in my shoes. It makes me want to be an even bigger whiner just to spite him, because I love making him angry.
When Spike gets pissed off, he gets horny.
I think we already covered the whole part about me wanting to have sex with everything on the Hellmouth. Vamp Willow ain't the only one who turned out evil, skanky, and kinda gay. Screwing is just like fighting for us. It's always a frenzied, violent, vampire fuck fest, filled with biting, name-calling, hair pulling, screaming and pounding. We take out all our frustrations on each other. Afterwards, we need lots of band-aids and booze to recover from our little arguments.
Did I mention we argue a lot?
*evil grin*
Even though I don't like him much, Spike's the closest thing to a friend I have. Everyone else I know is dead or gone, so I don't have anyone left but him. It's not like I'm going to make any new vampire pals any time soon. To put it mildly, I'm as unpopular in the demonic underworld as I was back in high school.
Why? Because I've got two really big strikes against me. One, everyone on the Hellmouth knows I used to be the Slayer's sidekick, and two, I was sired by Spike, the biggest pariah in Sunnydale. No one in the demon clique likes either one of us.
Now that I think about it, becoming a vampire really is a lot like having to go back to high school. I'm cooped up indoors all day, forced to endure boring lectures from Spike, and when I do go outside, all the local bullies want to kick my ass. Bleach Boy saved me from the sharp end of a stake a couple of times, so I guess I owe him. Something he never gets tired of reminding me of every chance he gets.
Speak of the demon, the Big Bad Sire is awake from his ugly sleep, and he looks mad at me, as usual.
"You dodgy thief! You smoked the rest of my carton!" I flinch when Spike whacks me upside the head with the empty box. "Well? What do you have to say about it? And don't give me that 'I can't help it, I was cold' bullshit. That excuse wore thin the last three times you used it!"
I blow smoke in his face and flick my cigarette butt at his chest. "Whoops. Sorry. Last one!"
He tightens his lips, sucks in his cheeks and glares at me with his familiar furious Spike face. The look he always gets when he wants to pound the shit out of me. Ooh, scary. I roll my eyes to show him how much I really don't care that he's out of smokes.
"Great. Bloody perfect. No more smokes, and there's still two more hours until the sun goes down, you selfish, greedy bastard," he yells. "What am I supposed to do until then, huh?"
"Hmm. Let's see. You could arrange your complete-opposite-of-manly Soap Opera Digests in date order, or drown yourself in a bucket of peroxide, or maybe you could take that empty carton and shove it where, unfortunately, the sun don't shine..."
He grabs my shoulders roughly. "Oh, you're a funny one. You need to learn some respect for your Sire, boy." He leans into me, his lip curled and his nostrils flaring, inhaling the last remaining traces of smoke near my body.
"Whatever. Give it up, Spike. You're never going to make me call you that, so why don't you just bite me, you-" He suddenly slams me against the wall and decides he wants to eat my face for breakfast, starting with my lips. His hand goes straight for my crotch while he devours my mouth.
We growl and gnash our fangs while we kiss, neither one of us wanting to be the first one to pull back. I slip my hand down the back of his jeans and pinch his ass, jutting my nails into his flesh. He winces, but gets more excited the harder I knead him. I slide my other hand down his pants and cup him, tugging him closer.
"Brat," he snarls, as he pushes my hips back to unbutton my jeans. He clenches his hard buttocks while my hands dig into his cheeks, trapped against his cool skin under the worn denim. "Is this why you smoked my last pack, so you could goad me into fucking you? I'm on to your games, pet."
"Jerk!" I snap at his sneering lips, trying to trap his mouth with my own. Anything to shut him up.
He forces his hand down my pants and yanks me like he's playing a game of tug-of-war, drawing his nail along my shaft. When I groan and buck angrily into his hand, he flashes me a wicked grin.
"You asked for it."
He laughs and pushes me to the ground, and as we tear off our clothes, I know exactly what I'm going to be doing until we can go out for more cigarettes.
Having big time, dirty, nekkid sex with Spike. Spike! Jeez, I really will fuck anyone.
*sigh*
Yeah, being a vampire really sucks.
*grin*
The End
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