The Vorbing, Stewart Stafford, Horror, Supernatural, Vampires

I Was Almost A Teenage Vampire or The Road to The Vorbing Part 1

The Vorbing. © 2014, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.
The Vorbing. © 2014, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.

“I vant to bite your neck!” went my brother’s dodgy Bela Lugosi imitation and a lifetime’s fascination with vampires began for me. We were in our New York apartment and he would follow me around goading me with his vampire voice. I’d put my chin on my chest to protect my neck and flee and my brother would creep after me. I got a “taste” of what it was like to be a vampire’s victim.

My next run-in with vampires was, again, my brother’s doing. We were in Ireland by then. It was my 12th birthday party and my brother put on our VHS copy of “Salem’s Lot” with David Soul. That was and still is the only really terrifying vampire film for me (along with F.W. Murnau’s seminal Nosferatu). My father told the kids that they could leave the room if it got too much for them. One by one, they did until all of us were in the back room. The terror didn’t end there. The kids refused to walk home alone in the dark after the party. They insisted on phoning their parents to collect them, even the kids that lived around the corner! You don’t forget things that scar your psyche like that. The windy, autumnal nights that followed were filled with a creeping dread of nightfall. Thanks again, bro…

Fast-forward another decade. I was dating a girl when vampires unexpectedly entered my life once more. “I want you to bite me on the neck,” she said seductively as she leaned against the wall of our deserted acting class. “What?” I said. She repeated what she wanted. It didn’t sound any less strange the second time so I repeated it. “You want me to bite you on the neck?” I parroted. “Yes,” she said. “Are you sure?” I asked, offering her one last chance to back out of it. “Yes,” she replied again. “Okay,” I said with uncertainty but with a certain amount of intrigue at playing the vampire himself for the first time. Before I sink my fangs into her neck, I’ll provide a little background on my “victim.” Her uncle was a haemophiliac who had died of AIDS (this was the 90s when it was still a death sentence). This had fuelled her interest in death and vampirism and its blood disease similarity with her uncle’s affliction. Tune in to my next blog post to find out what happened next…

© 2014, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.


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