The Vampire noir

The Lion

“I’m Already Inside”

His words loud in my head as my key hit the 11pm front door

I could feel a preternatural presence

The floor boards creaked as I walked down the long hallway

of my San Francisco Victorian to the front parlor

I pulled in a large amount of breath - not a gasp but a shock at what I saw

The Guilded One, The Lion, The Sun That Refuses To Set

That Blonde Tall Famous Vampire had taken my Martin Guitar out of the case and was mixing something on my old tascam recorder

“I’ve added a few chords to your latest musical work your welcome” He smiled and those sun damaged eyes flashed as he saw my anger rising

He put down the guitar and stood up taller than me

dressed in what looked like modern italian clothing, Milan I thought

“You like this Jacket” He said Showing off.

“What I’d like is for You not to appear in my parlor unannounced let alone read my thoughts,

I would think you’d like more surprises”

the sarcastic tone in my voice he did not like - I could now feel his anger not my own.

His Blue Eyes were full of fire.

One moment he was across the parlor and the next

pressed up against me cold hands tight around my neck

“Think Twice How You Speak To ME”

I pulled away and he let me

What do you want I did not speak it I thought it

“No...I don’t want anything” He calmed instantly

I’m just interested in your little stories

I like the Japanese Dragon He reminds me of myself

they like you the Dragons and they do exist though I don’t trust them

But they get fond of certain humans”

I knew he could hear me think but I could not help wonder is he a fan?

“I have a Private Jet we can go to Tokyo Tonight

you can write more about your little Dragon” He Charmed.

“No Your Deflecting” I said this aloud

It’s Louis

you know he’s been here

Still thinking of him are you?” My sarcasim lost this time.

His eyebrows lifted in rage

He Grabbed me before I could react

I can’t truly described what happed next

we were in my San Francisco apartment

But when he released me from his lion grasp

we were somwhere else

I heard the water first gentle lapping sounds

I was in Venice Italy and The Golden One was smiling again

happy now he’d overpowered and transported me to these di notte rooms.

Carved Moldings, Moonlight arching across Venitian Floors

I reached to my neck felt the sting his teethmarks had left

His demenor changed

and I was his for this moment

He sat in arrogance on the velvet couches, marble statues in the moonlight glowed cold. He rang some little bell and a servant brought sweet strong coffee and pastries. He started talking and I listened and drank that strong italian coffee while this famous vampire poured out his heart to me, centuries of pain decades of laughter. The bells of St. Marks chimed and echo’d across the aqua alta, I shivered and instantly he was wrapping me In furs

I did not ask him to stop

I felt him in my veins trying to make me love him without proof.

I despised him

for in one night he took both my music and my blood.

I leaned back on the deep velvet couch, tired, dazed listening to him talk I could hear the sounds of the water busses on the Grand Canal that still roamed.

I drifted off to sleep in the City Of Dead Masks.

I woke in my bed fully dressed, the San Francisco fog drifting though the open window felt warmer not heavy like the Venice cold. My neck healed no pain no evidence he was here

then I saw the blinking light on the Tascam

18 new tracks.

I went to the kitchen reached for the strong Graffeo coffee and as I drank visions of Paris Rome and Tokyo, nights of Fouth of July parties, Full Moons and Fireflies were flashing though my head -these were not my memories but his.

His way of saying he liked me was not to unalive me.

Copyright Nicholas Vitale San Francisco 2026