the smuggler’s bible

Vlad Dracula

Vlad Dracula whips his cape around in the air a few times and soars cheeping out of the ruined belfry in his bat form.  He feels good. He feels free.

“It’s nice not having to worry about it,” he says later to Frankenstein’s Monster. “It’s just another day, ya know?”

“Don’t you ever miss it?”

“Spend too much time missing what’s gone forever and you’ll give yourself a complex.”

They hit the mall for lunch. In the food court, they watch workers on ladders hang candy canes—and Vlad Dracula, just for a second, wishes he could make somebody bleed.