Fun Vampires Have, Page 7

Do vampires have fun? Yeah, despite all the problems we have, we still manage to have some fun. We have more fun than blondes. Here’s some of the fun we have, some of the silly situations we sometimes find ourselves in… I’ve nicknamed this section “Freaking the Mundanes” (with a nod to Leslie Fish, who wrote a filk song of the same name about the SCA).

Seeking contributions and input. All submissions become the property of Sanguinarius: The Vampire Support Page, and will be considered for inclusion herein. Submissions may be edited. If you have an experience that you would like to share, send it to me, but let me know that it’s for Fun Vampires Have, and that it is OK to include what you wrote.


[Back to Index]

I’m a graveyard haunter. When I can get out of my house at night (sneaking out is so easy), I usually go to the local cemetery and hang out. Now, I don’t know why, but there’s always this little group of old ladies that’s there from 12 to 3, tending their relatives’ graves or something.

Once I was sitting in the shadows of a tomb, all decked out in black clothes (capes work well), white makeup and black eyes and lips, the drill. I straighten my hair if I want to be especially vampy, so my hair was down and I had the bottom two inches dyed black. Fangs too. (I have natural fangs, but I wear bigger ones). So I’m sitting in the shadows and I hear (love vamp hearing) these ladies talking about the local legend (a girl who died and came back as a vampyre) and how they know it’s just a story.

So when they came past my little hiding spot I stood up real quick. They jumped and stared at me, going an unhealthy color of gray porridge. I grinned and said “Hello…” in a hissing voice. “How are you ladies tonight?”

They stood there and stuttered.

“I was just hanging here for a while…hope you don’t mind…” I pointed at the “vampyre’s” grave. “I like to get out of the ground once in a while. Care to join me for a little drink?” (I’m a hybrid.)

One of the women kept looking up at me (I’m 5’7″) and went: “N-n-no…”

I put a real nasty look on my face and bared my fangs again, then snarled and hissed and moved threateningly (and quickly) toward them. They shrieked and ran for it as quick as their old bones could carry them. Hee hee hee…

Contributed by The Morbid Rose

I was walking around downtown in a huge city in my vamp outfit: black cape, black leather pants, fangs, super-pale moonskin (makeup AND my moontan), red lipstick, black tips on my hair, black tank, jewelry and spikes, the usual. My eyes were outlined in black, I’m all freaky looking. So I’m walking around in the city, glaring at people and giving occasional passerby my vamp smile, and this little kid walks by with his mom and starts staring at me, so I grinned at him to show my fangs and hissed.

The kid started wailing his head off! He clung to his mom and screamed at the top of his lungs,: “MOMMY!! MOMMY, THE VAMPYRE’S GONNA GET ME!!!”, etc. The lady looked at me all weird, kind of a combo between I’m so sorry my kid’s bothering you and OK this girl really does look like a vampyre and Run away. Now. I just smiled at her normally (no fangs) and shrugged. She hurried off, taking the little crybaby with her.

I smiled to myself and kept walking. About a half a mile of walking later, I passed these two teenage guys (about 18) and one girl, same age. They were dressed like me, black clothes, pale skin, so on and so forth. We passed each other and the three just gave me this nod, real respectful and sort of knowing. They just seemed to know who I was and what I was.

That’s kind of cool, don’t you think?

There is this boy in my class whom I absolutely HATE, but he seems to have fun teasing me and stalking me. One day when I was feeling particularly vampy (almost all black clothes, jewelry, makeup, and so on and so forth), I was sitting next to him in Civics and he (let us call him Crazy Boy) started poking me in the side, asking, “Are you a vampyre or what? What’s with the black clothes?” I sat there not answering until he said, “C’mon, little bat, talk to me. Are you a vampyre?”

I snapped, turned to look at him, grinned evilly and then hissed to show off my fangs (nice and white and shhinnnnyyyy…). Crazy Boy screamed like a girl and fell backwards off his chair. The entire class and teacher started laughing their heads off and I just sat there, grinning at him. Crazy Boy hasn’t said a word to me since.

Contributed by The Morbid Rose

Most of my life I’ve been teased about being a vampire. I have a surname that rhymes with ‘Dracula’ — a fact which my peers took advantage of from kindergarten up until college and even after that. I still get teased about it today. The fact that I come from the place that gave the word ‘vampir’ to the world and where the vampiri are a common feature of folklore and life in general didn’t help either. The stupid and ironic thing is that — I’m not. I’m not a vampire. What I am is a practicing hereditary witch. It tends to run in families over here, sometimes skipping a generation or two. In my father’s family everybody’s got a knack for meddling with some form of the craft, in my mother’s family however it manifested itself through a string of matriarchs, the last of whom was my great grandmother. I am also a firm believer in science (I earn my living as a scientist), because science isn’t nearly as complicated and scientific procedures don’t tend to backfire, misfire, and generally not work nearly as often as spells do. But, when the time is right, spells are the more (and sometimes only) effective tool. Anyway, the reason I’m even writing this thing is something that happened a couple of years back when the whole coming out of the coffin trend started to take wing. Over here we’ve had vampiri forever, and folklore doesn’t actually require them to be dead. It’s just the dead ones that are really dangerous. The living ones are more like vampiri in potentia… but I digress.

I’d seen a couple of the newly ‘out’ vampires around. They were just teenagers, I don’t even recall them having plastic fangs — a boy and two girls. They hung around together, white make up, the works. They weren’t your ordinary Goths, either, one of the ways in which witches avoided being prosecuted here is by knowing how to tell who was a vampire so the villagers could do the slaying (this was in the bad old days), and these were the real deal. They hung around a small graveyard I had to pass on my way home, scaring people sometimes, but they didn’t harm anyone, so I let it slide. Scare tactics worked well for me on more than one occasion. But I kept seeing them around town as well, and they did something that I didn’t like — they scared little kids on purpose. I fucking hate it when people traumatize children. For one thing, scared kids grow up to be angry kids and bullies, and besides they don’t deserve it. I’ve found that little children usually look with wonder and interest on anything out of the ordinary, and scaring them is just plain mean.

Anyway, I made a mental note of the whole thing.

After some time, I was walking home one night past the graveyard and I saw them again. They were coming out the gate (I think they have some sort of deal with the night watchman, they come and go freely even in the middle of the night). They saw me and one of the girls started in my direction. Then she tried to feed on me. It happened just like that, she was a psy and I felt her, it was a very, very unpleasant experience. I’d never felt anything like it before, but what the hell kind of witch would I be if I didn’t know how to cope? So I fended off her assault (it’s really not that hard if you react right away) and she seemed a bit baffled by it. By that time the other two had joined her and were walking toward me, flashing their teeth and talking loudly about blood. Like I was stupid enough to be intimidated by that. I get all the creatures of the night hype and all that, but dudes, when keen hearing and a craving for bodily fluids is your only super power, you DO NOT try to intimidate a girl of slim frame who walks past graveyards all alone in the middle of the night without any fear.

Now they’re standing right in front of me and, I suppose, trying to get me to run the other way.

You see, one of the things a witch can do is manipulate the way people see her. It’s that little bit of practical stuff you can actually do fast. And it’s not changing eye color or hair or whatever like in the movies. What you can do is make people associate looking at you with something like size (big or small), darkness, light, monsters… anything. People do it all the time without knowing, but as a witch you get to hone your skills and amplify that. And, of course, you can always scare the shit out of everybody, even vampires.

[Sangi Note: I find this interesting, and I wish I knew more of what she’s talking about.]

So I try to pass them, and they surround me and start babbling, expecting me to scream and run. I do the exact opposite. I just smile. I have a nice set of choppers on me, no extended canines or anything, just good teeth. I prefer big black crows, dark wings and the eyes of snakes when I’m trying to scare somebody. And I look at them. At first, they’re baffled; I guess they’re used to being the scariest thing around. And then I say “You will not scare the children anymore and give the rest of us a bad name, you dimwits”, and by this time they’re backing away, and I take off one of my rings and start mumbling under my breath, and I look at them through the ring, and they turn and run. Looking at somebody through a ring is a time-honored way of putting a spell on them or cursing them. I didn’t actually curse the three young vampires, nor did I want to, I just gave them a taste of their own medicine. I guess that this should be a lesson to all the vamps out there — leave ordinary people out of it, because there’s always higher instances and there’s a hell of a lot scarier things than pimply blood sucking teenagers running around in the night, and not all of them are as nice as me.

Contributed by Nettle Sage

[Sangi Note: OK, so no more scaring little children (yes, I know it’s funny, but the poor dears could grow up to be serial killers or worse – religious types!), or possibly old people (they might have a heart condition or something). Anyone else, though, can be “fair game”.]

I am not sure this is about me having fun but I am sure it will give everyone a laugh.

I have been looking for a set of fangs as I am not naturally blessed with a set. I found some custom ones. So I am dipping that sticky plastic stuff — you know the stuff that molds around your teeth — in hot water to melt the pelts of it. It says after you get it in the fang and onto your tooth wait 3 minutes to let it set. Well me, and my lower-than-normal body temperature, couldn’t even get it into a ball and into the fang before it hardened. So I decided to make the water a whole lot hotter and run my hands under hot water. I never got my fangs in and learned that it is not just blood that will make a vampire sticky!

Oh, by the way, after you are done laughing, if you know where I can get a set of custom fangs that are idiot-proof please let me know. Thanks.

Contributed by Jessika,
dreamelf13 (at)

A couple friends and I went out to a party so we dressed really good. It was all black attire, so me being me, I wore black skinny jeans with a black spaghetti tank top; basically I went with my usual rocker look. All the people in there were staring at me and my friends.

We sat on the couch and some pretty cute guy came up and asked me to dance. I looked at him in total disbelief, but he held out his hand so I went with him. There was a porch in the back yard, so he took me out there and we danced. It was while we were dancing that he whispered, “So what, you’re a vampire? Going for the gothic look?”

To be honest he was quite seductive with his words, but I knew better. I didn’t “drink” that night or two nights before that and I was thirsty. I thought I would play a little joke on him and leave so I can go.

I put my face to his chest and scraped my tongue against my canine till it bled. I kissed his neck, and then scraped my canine against his neck with my blood on it. I kissed his neck again and left with my friends.

While we were leaving I licked my lips and grabbed a napkin I wrote down my number and kissed it. I handed it to him and his eyes grew wide. He looked at my lips and I smiled. He touched his neck and felt my blood still on his neck. He fainted. It was funny. I told my friends what happened and we cried with laughter.

Contributed by Artemis

I’m currently a junior in high school and a black swan. I have a friend, however, who is a vampire. He’s kinda like a household name around school because he stands out so much. He’s extremely tall, with dark long hair, a pale complexion and a set pearly white semi-permanent fangs; he also comes to school at least twice a week in an all black suit and pentacle. He wears a long black leather trench coat that isn’t quite long enough and has this incredibly deep voice that makes people fear all the more. Lol, bless him. He’s also very forthright with the fact that he’s a vampire, but I guess because so many people are intimidated, so he doesn’t get heckled much for it, just looks or random questions.

Anyway, the incident happened around the time of our state testing, on the last day, when only the juniors came to school in the morning and then left before the afternoon. Since breakfast was free that day, everyone flooded in for food. I had sat down with a girl, listening to her talk about the teachers when he walked up and sat down next to me. I started to complain about my food and how dry it was. He offered me a packet of jelly and I declined, telling him I didn’t like it.

“That’s un-American,” he joked.

I gave an amused pout and said, “I know.”

“Did the jelly touch you as a child?”

“…Yes…” I choked trying to be serious.

“Point to where it touched you on the doll.” I dropped my head and smiled, trying not to laugh.

“I’ve always wanted one of those dolls…”

And this time I laughed, poking the dry bagel on my plate. About 5 minutes later this girl walked up, asking if he’d come with her so her friends could see him. He said sure and was gone briefly.

“How was that?” I asked when he came back.

“Interesting.” He shrugged. We were still talking but I had turned my head to get my fruit when he turned to answer a question some girl asked him. I suppose he answered, because everyone on the other side of that table jumped back (boys and girls); the girl closest to him jumped up, turning red with tears in her eyes (from fright or shock, I suppose). When I asked him what he did, he turned back to me and said, “Nothing,” flashing his canines at me. I laughed.

The girl that had been closest finally recovered and goes, “Are those real?” to me after he’d gotten up. I smiled and shrugged, saying she’d have to ask him.

When he sat back down, she peered over at his mouth asking him if he could eat with them in his mouth.

“Yeah”, he answered taking a bite of the bagel. She let out an “Awesome,” and turned away.

He glanced at me and patted my head saying, “I can eat lots of things.” I couldn’t keep from laughing.

Contributed by Calia Ana

Hello, my name is Timothy, and I am a Sang from Wakefield, NH with a little tale of humor I had in one of my last English classes I had before I dropped the course in my college.

We were required to write a descriptive essay, describing a specific event of our lives. I chose to water down the events of my awakening, by changing about 65 percent of the details involved, so that it would seem less shocking. I was out of the class the day that my essay was passed around, so I didn’t get a chance to see how the other students reacted originally, but upon the next class, I had people coming up left and right saying “Wow, what a great fictional essay.” Not immediately realizing what they meant, thinking they were talking about another essay, I thanked them, and took my seat. About 15 to 20 minutes passed, before we got to my essay, in which the teacher revealed to me that it was in fact the descriptive essay I had done earlier. After her comment on it being the first “fictional” essay of the class, I turned around in my chair (Out of the entire class, I had always taken a large, throne like swivel chair.), gave the entire class an evil grin, and said in a calm, aristocratic voice that “It’s not Fictional, I changed a few things around, but it’s all true.” The entire class was silent for over two minutes, which was a feat in itself, before people started freaking out. One of the preppier girls actually looked like she was going to faint.

I worried slightly about writing it, but I figured that either the students would freak, and just ignore it, or get the reaction I expected, which was the fictional.

Contributed by Timothy, “Dark Count of Wakefield” (Funny title, yes? A great teacher gave me the title as a little in-joke, so I use it among my few friends who know of my vampirism).

Oh, god, how I love Halloween. Such a perfect time to allow myself flourish in all its vampiric horror… little can you guess that when offered to work at a “haunted house” I bolted for the offer, and hilarity ensued.

Living in a hick town, in the middle of a gooberville called Salem (not the one in Massachusetts). I don’t get much of a chance to be myself; the “slight” chance of endless persecution is quite noticeable.

So anyway, I get to work in the haunted house; unfortunately, I got stuck in a coffin (comfortable and LOVABLE as they are) which provided little to no chance to jump out at people to get a scream (laughter in my case, hehe). I got kinda bored and crawled on out and stood in the middle of the room, not moving at all ’til people got right next to me. Then I started moving with the crowd.

Eventually, someone looked over at me and asked if I was with the group from the start, I smiled and answered, “No”. (I sort of mastered the trick of slipping my scarecrow fangs off and on unnoticed — I get a helluva kick out of making people wig out with them on a NORMAL day). About a minute later we arrived at the “UV Room”. The crowd looked around at the room, sort of expecting someone to jump at them, so I slipped my fangs back on and spun around real quick, roaring at them. As you can expect, they ran!

Later that night, I got stuck cleaning the urine out of the UV Room… BUT IT WAS WORTH IT!

Contributed by thelostwill (a.k.a. Yelvarg)

[On to Page… Wow, it looks like you’ve come to the end. Congratulations! Why not send in something fun that’s vampire-related, yourself?  And stay tuned for more Fun…]

I’m the founder/creator/page slave of I’m in my early-to-mid 40s. I have 2 special kitties and a good man.

More info later.

See my website, Sangi’s Corner, for more about me.

Sanguinarius E. Sanguinarius – who has written posts on for Real Vampires.

About Sanguinarius E. Sanguinarius

I’m the founder/creator/page slave of I’m in my early-to-mid 40s. I have 2 special kitties and a good man. More info later. See my website, Sangi’s Corner, for more about me.
Tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.

  • Accepts Tips

    What's the information on this page worth to you?

    Tip Sangi with Bitcoin (BTC), a new, independent international currency. Buy her a cup of coffee, lunch, or a pair of jeans...or heck, be really generous and help her buy a new and decent computer!