Goth club Stories

“90’s goth, I like it. Too many of these people are borderline emo looking,” she complimented, sitting next to me at the bar. “Ah yeah, thanks. I just prefer the look I grew up with.” I looked at my pair of Tripps and Anarchy boots. “Same, look.” She stood up, presented herself; black miniskirt, Mary Jane boots, flannel shirt and push-up bra. “You like?” “I do, you kinda look like Jane Lane.” I laughed. “I'll take that as...

The signs were there, and I’m not just talking about the signs of Damian being a vampire. Of course those were there too, his being so pale and his unnaturally flawless skin. It explains why I only saw him at night as well. But no, I’m not talking about those signs; I’m talking about the fact that it was so clear that he liked me, or in the least wanted to fuck me. I’m sure I knew I had to; I had never been one to ignore...

All the common sense in the world told me not to go. But I had to. I had laughed when Damian first told me he was a vampire and I had found it hilarious when he had told me about the vampire club down town. None of that is funny now. I should have listened to Damian. I knew he only came to me when he was in trouble, but I couldn’t take it seriously, I mean who would believe in vampires? And even if vampires were real why...