Changed

 This guy bit me yesterday. Right on the fucking neck. He was dressed like an asshole from one of those festivals where virgins go to eat turkey legs and buy fake swords and shit. Except this guy had women around him. And the bodies on these broads, fuggetaboutit. They were dressed like assholes too, except I could see most of their tits, so I wasn’t complaining. But swear to god, albinos, all of them, except their hair was like a normal color. Better than normal; it was like a fucking shampoo commercial.

     Especially the redhead. I mean, even the guy who bit me had hair down to his nipples. Usually, I would kick the shit out of someone who came at me—especially when girls were watching—but it was weird; the second he sunk his teeth in me, I got real tired, real quick. My whole body felt like when your arm is asleep, ya know? And maybe it was all the Jägerbombs I had, but, swear to god, he was floating. The harder he bit down, the higher up he got. Then, the women started licking my chest, lapping up any blood that managed to trickle down. At that point, I couldn’t feel shit, but it was fun to watch.

     This morning, I woke up in a castle. I felt different. Invigorated. Dare I say, more sophisticated or whatever the fuck? I meandered around the paleaceous abode. I mean, the place was huge. There were a lot of portraits of people in Renaissance attire and a few tapestries woven from the finest silks, each embroidered with sigils of bats. In the center of the great room was an ornate stand, its base carved in the likeness of a lion’s paw, ready to pounce at anyone attempting to seize its contents. Sitting atop was an amulet, bejeweled with a blood-red stone that terrified and seduced all at once, embellished by diamond-studded gold wings. It looked just like the one I swiped from that asshole at the bar last night. I checked my pockets. They were empty, as void of plunder as I was the urge to steal it again.

     Something was happening to me.

     I feverishly dashed down the boundless and extensive hallway whose floorboards cracked and wailed and whimpered and squalled as my burdensome boots oppressed their delicate and timeless planks, which were undoubtedly far older and more antiquated than the impudent facade they divulged to a more hackneyed onlooker. And at the culmination of the interminable corridor, a colossal mirror welcomed me in my haste, but it returned my stalwart smile with a nullity of person and nihility of my existence, reflecting aught but the insurmountable truth that my life, as I was eternally accustomed to it, was over. The gentlemen who stung my jugular on the previous evening repaid my petty larceny tenfold, for he purloined my being, drank the elixir of my life.

     Now, let’s see where them girls is at.