Bram Stoker's Hitchhiker

"Where you headed," the man pulls over to speak to the hitchhiker.

She's a little pale, but he still thinks she's beautiful. Somehow she shows no signs of aging. He wants a little company. The thought of getting lucky didn't pass through his mind until she spoke to him in her sultry voice. Of course, he wouldn't mind if she did want to fool around a little.

"Oh, I'm just headed to the next rest stop. Think you can get me there by sunrise," she asks with a smile, not showing too many teeth.

"No problem, I got a lead foot," he leans over and unlocks the door.

She climbs in, nothing but a single backpack with her. She doesn't start any conversation. She thanks him and begins to read a book from her bag. Completely trusting of this man. He doesn't usually pick up hitchhikers, he doesn't see this as strange. Then again, he's not usually on cross country trips late at night.

"So, what you reading," he asks.

"Dracula, it's a great book," she says.

"Oh, are you into Vampires? I never really got the hype."

"Vampires are wonderful. They're just free to do whatever they want. They can live forever. Maybe not forever, but for a really long time. They can watch empires rise and fall and it'll be a small amount of time to them. What's not to love? I could go on all day," she gushes over the vampires.

"I just thought they were creepy," he shrugs.

"Have you ever met a vampire?"


"So how do you know they're creepy? If you had the opportunity to be a vampire, how do you know you wouldn't take it?"

"I don't know," he asked, confused by the line of questioning.

They were coming up on the rest stop, a silent ride after their conversation about vampires. He didn't think much about it. But she did. The conversation bothered her. People who were so dismissive of what they thought to be fiction or stranger bothered her deeply. They were almost to their destination. His behavior wouldn't bother her much longer.

"Would you like to be a vampire," she turns to ask him showing her fangs.

"Fuck is wrong with you," he asked as they pulled into the parking lot.

"Suit yourself," she said exiting the car.

She could have killed him, but he had done her a favor. Besides, he wasn't a good man, and the blood of good men tastes the best. She'd find another drink here. Maybe a trucker, they were always looking for company. He'd think about this encounter for the rest of his life. Every now and then he'd wonder, if Vampire's were real.

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