Long in the Tooth - Vampire story 1 of 4

Many, many moons ago (years in fact) my brother, Chris Langley, and I were planning what would be a large, sprawling vampire world with everyone and their stories loosely connected. Everything would essentially be in really short stories but of course would be part of a larger whole.


We would plan stories and I would write them. Sadly, life got in the way and only four got finished but we still have all the notes and plans for our big vampire world. Maybe we'll get back to it someday, hopefully we will. It might depend on you all. Here's the first of four I'll be posting this week. So from the mind of Chris Langley and myself, here's "Long in the Tooth". Also I want to mention that this hasn't been edited (for better or for worse).


Long in the Tooth


There she sat, the little girl with questions in her mind and worries in her heart. Waiting, lingering on every word her wise grandfather would share with her. Lilith enjoyed these talks with her grandfather Vernon. He always knew how to make her smile but often Vernon felt the loneliness that grew within her. IT spilled from her eyes, he would see.

“Grandfather,” Lilith began, “A boy at school called me a cattle feeder. What do you think he means?”

“Well,” He knew good and well what it meant.

“I mean, why would he say that, do you think?” She asked, obviously hurt.

“Maybe he likes you…” He proposed, nudging her arm.

“No, he’s just a jerk.”

And so Vernon sat there across from her at their round kitchen table. He knew he had to say something; anything to mend her broken little heart.

“Look… Lilly…” As he fumbled through his words, she continued staring at her glass of milk. “We’re not like other people, our family.”

“What do you mean?” Lilith asks placing her cheek in her palm.

“Well, do you know anything about DNA?”

“Nope.” She admitted shaking her head. “What’s DNA?”

“DNA is blood.”

“EW!” Erupted from the young girl, ringing in her grandfather’s ears. He shakes it off.

“You see, sweetie, our family has a different type of blood than most people.”

“Is that bad?”

“Eh, some believe so. But most people tend to hate something when they don’t understand it.”

“So that’s why the kids at school make fun of me? Because our blood is different?”

“In a way, yeah.”

“Why are people so mean? Why do they hate it when people are different?” Her questions came with tears. Vernon scoots his chair closer to his granddaughter to put his arms around her.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I just don’t know.” A tear trickles down his old and weathered cheek, and she bawls into his chest. He wants to tell her but doesn’t want to scare her. And then the feeling came. The feeling he had almost forgotten. It had been awhile and Vernon was drying out. His insides shrink and behind to dry causing his skin to wrinkle. His fingers extend slightly as did his fingernails. Vernon’s face caves in and his skin sags. His eyes are bloodshot, the eyes of a tired old dog. The grandfather’s teeth extend as well, some to finer points than others. The tops of his ear lobes grew to a point as his chin stretches slightly longer and slimmer.

“Grandfather?” Feeling his body morph, she becomes concerned. Concerned becomes scared when she pulled away from his embrace to see this beaten old soul. “Grandfather, what’s wrong!?” Lilith cries.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Just… Getting old.” He sighed.

“How old are you?”

“I’m a lot older than you think, kiddo. You see, we’re very different from other people. Our bodies are different, our minds are different, and we age different. Though every one of us ages different as well.”

“Why do we age different, though? I don’t understand.”

“Some of us age very, very slowly so we’re actually older than what we look. Some slightly slower, some faster.”

“But why did you change?” And that was the real question.

“How about another glass of milk and then I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah!” She exclaimed.

And so he poured her another glass of plain white milk and a plate of cookies finished off their set up. Vernon sat down and took a long deep breath and tried to relax. Lilith was just too excited. A child who gets the inside scoop on the adults, finally, as she thought. After a minute of relaxing but concentrating Vernon returned to his cleaner, more fleshed out form.

“Lilith, I won’t be around forever. I’m drying out… and getting old.”

Her eyes welled up with tears, “But I don’t want you to die…”

“Oh, kitten, everyone dies. It just takes some of us longer than others.”

The tears rolled.

“I don’t want you to die and I don’t wanna die either! I don’t wanna!”

“There, there. Everything is okay. You’ll understand someday.” He said to comfort her. “See, it’s not about how much or how long you have. It’s what you do with it. Some people say what we have is a curse; a bad thing.” Vernon broke a chocolate chip cookie in half, handing her half. “Others believe it to be a good thing.”

“What do you think, Grandfather?” She asked with a chocolate spotted mouth.

“I think it’s like life,” Vernon began to explain, standing up. “It is what you make of it. Some people like us can take what we have and use it for good and some of us just want to take advantage of it all. You just gotta figure out where you stand.”

Still looking slightly lost, she nods as it starts sinking in.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, my dear Lilith, I must lie down. I’m very tired.” He said leaving the room slowly, as what he said echoed in her brain. And she just sat there staring at her cookies and glass of milk. Pondering if the glass was indeed half empty or half full.

“Which type am I?” She thought to herself.

As she got up from the table to pour out her milk, she stopped. It hit.

“Life… Is what you make of it.”