Mythical May Challenge 2012: Pallid
Stanley carefully touched up his make-up while waiting for his next customer. While redheads trump over brunettes in vampire fashion this decade, freckles on vampires was still a no-go. Which made Stanley wonder, if a redhead is turned at the height of summer, does the Change get rid of freckles along with scars and other blemishes? What about moles?
He had no way of knowing, since he made his living by impersonating vampires, not befriending them. The nameplate on his dressing room door read Andrei; “Stan the Vampire” didn’t have the same ring. Thankfully the establishment didn’t expect him to affect an accent, since his knowledge of Russian accent was limited to old James Bond movies. Stanley looked up and reapplied his eyeliner.
His workplace catered to “supernatural enthusiasts”; in reality, it was just a step up from a brothel. Vampires of course ran their own gentlemen’s clubs, but he heard that membership cost an arm and a leg. Or possibly lifetime blood slavery; he wasn’t clear.
A loud knock made him fumble his mascara wand.
“Andrei, wash that gunk off of your face!” The club manager hollered. “Your next customer doesn’t want to smell stage foundation on your skin.”
He cursed and reached for the eye make-up remover. “Got it!”
“You have five minutes!”
While blotting his make-up, he had to will his hand to stop trembling. In addition to humans with a supernatural fetish, there was another group that this establishment attracted: those blacklisted from vampire clubs. Werewolves.
A/N: More supernatural than horror.
Also answers writing_game's prompts Gather & Loud.
He had no way of knowing, since he made his living by impersonating vampires, not befriending them. The nameplate on his dressing room door read Andrei; “Stan the Vampire” didn’t have the same ring. Thankfully the establishment didn’t expect him to affect an accent, since his knowledge of Russian accent was limited to old James Bond movies. Stanley looked up and reapplied his eyeliner.
His workplace catered to “supernatural enthusiasts”; in reality, it was just a step up from a brothel. Vampires of course ran their own gentlemen’s clubs, but he heard that membership cost an arm and a leg. Or possibly lifetime blood slavery; he wasn’t clear.
A loud knock made him fumble his mascara wand.
“Andrei, wash that gunk off of your face!” The club manager hollered. “Your next customer doesn’t want to smell stage foundation on your skin.”
He cursed and reached for the eye make-up remover. “Got it!”
“You have five minutes!”
While blotting his make-up, he had to will his hand to stop trembling. In addition to humans with a supernatural fetish, there was another group that this establishment attracted: those blacklisted from vampire clubs. Werewolves.
A/N: More supernatural than horror.
Also answers writing_game's prompts Gather & Loud.