Lonely Vampire

Halloween had seemed the perfect time. The Street Party was vampire themed so he would fit in. Unfortunately he’d become a little intoxicated and allowed himself to be chained to the lamp post on a dare. As the sun began to rise over the horizon he berated himself for not listening to his mother.


Copyright October 2016

Never Give a Tiny Vampire a Happy Hour Mojito

A vampire walks into a bar at happy hour. He’s so small the barkeep cannot see him. Even when he waves his arms over his head no one seems to notice, except for one hobgoblin babe drinking by herself in the corner. She watches as he jumps and yells, grinds his fangs. Finally she takes pity on him, walks behind the bar and orders two mojitos to be brought to her table. She invites the tiny vampire to join her. They drink and chat. Swap tales of dark deeds done.

As the evening enfolds the tiny vampire starts to look more appealing to the hobgoblin babe, so she invites him back to her place. Here they share more drinks before eventually making it to her bed, where he drains her dry, grows a metre taller and leaves for bloodier climes.

“The rumours were true” he muses as he walks away, “Hobgoblin blood does reverse Vampire Dwarfism. How lucky am I to have found such a willing one!”


Copyright November 2013

Underneath the Bridge

under the bridge prismatic by kimmiechem

Photo: underneath the bridge prismatic by @kimmiechem2

Underneath the bridge
Where the seahorse
Swims on bubbles of molten iron
They congregate
This secret meeting place
For lovers of the night
From early afternoon they come
To watch the death throes
As the day loses the sun
The powers of the night
Now come out to flex their might
To grasp these willing acolytes
Drain them of their fear and fight
Feed until they reach the sweet centre
Of souls unwanted
In day’s natural light
The chosen few will rise
From makeshift sepulchres
Underneath this bridge
Of blood thirsting sighs
Soon the vampire army
Will take to the skies
Ranks swelled with so many discarded
Dearly so recently departed
Leaving not a trace of death behind
Underneath the bridge
Where the seahorse
Swims on bubbles of molten iron

Copyright October 2013