Thursday, January 26, 2017


The black cat with the white diamond on its forehead wobbled through the rain soaked street. The smell of blood brought him to a dying man beside a green dumpster.  Vertigo needed the blood. Birds, mice, and human blood all made him sick. He would just take a little bit to take the edge off but even that was too much sometimes. The man reached out and tried to stroke his wet fur.  Vertigo backed up and stepped on a syringe. A tiny bit of warmth spread into his paw. His hunger subsided a bit.

Vertigo watched the life vanish from the man’s eyes then  crept over to the four inch gash in his stomach and licked once.  It flooded his system, everything inside woke up. The itches started;  his eyes watered. His throat flared up and breath became harder to come by.  He collapsed beside the dead man.

Vertigo awoke with bright lights surrounding him. A woman in bright pink scrubs with a jovial cat and dog heads  stroked his fur, “Don’t worry, we are going to get you better and find you a new home soon.”

She accidentally touched the wound on his neck. Vertigo  hissed, howled then sunk his fangs into her wrist. Beautiful, wonderful, delicious blood filled his mouth. She screamed. Vertigo’s throat swelled shut, and he collapsed.

The smell of rot roused him awake. His dead heart pumped his dead blood through his veins once again. It was dark with only a sliver light coming from above. He looked and saw dozens of cats, dogs, and even bunny rabbits decomposing in some kind of pit. Weren’t these animals supposed to be burned? At least that is what he read somewhere or saw on the idiot box.

How long has it been since he turned? Ten years and he went in anaphylactic shock everyday. And everyday he would die then wake up.  He has walked onto busy highways and was hit fives times and then come back fresh as a daisy several hours later. He pestered known cat haters in the neighborhood. They would shoot him with some large deer rifle and he would die and then come back a little while later.

He was done with it. But how, how does one die when you are a vampire cat?

Vertigo looked for a way out and saw a rat dart into a crack in the wall. The syringe, he stepped on it. Was there only a drop of blood? It was almost enough. He followed the rat through the sewer and back out into the world, his hunger brought his world out of focus once again.

The cat wandered the streets until he got to the abandoned state hospital just outside of Philly. People groaned and growled inside. A skinny bum wearing a ratty coat was propped up  against the wall. His cracked feet poked through worn sneakers. Jackpot! In his arm was a dirty syringe. Dirty or not who cares? The man had his eyes closed.

With his mouth, Vertigo pulled the plunger and until the syringe was full and then yanked it out. Blood squirted out and dripped down his arm. The cat took the syringe and placed it sideways so the plunger was against the wall and needle outward. Taking his paw, he forced the blood through the needle. His mind and senses became sharper. He waited for a reaction. There was none.

Like a junky, he lay on the ground with pleasure and listened to the faint heartbeats of the humans in the building. He was free and ready to live  the eternal life his old mistress had given him before she was staked all those years ago.

Hey all, It's been awhile since I posted a story (okay I posted one at Christmas). This is flash fiction and is only 617 words. I took a free flash fiction writing class and this is one of the stories I wrote for that class. What do you think?

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