Inbred Blood: An Amish Vampire Love Story [Part 1]

It was the final night of Amos's rumspringa in the Sodom known as Cleveland, Ohio. All in all, it had been a satisfying journey in which he accomplished most of what he set out to experience: a ride in a motorized buggy, room cleaning service by a Hispanic cleaning maiden, and the amazing stain fighting power of OxyClean™.

On this, his final night, Amos wished to cross the final item off of his list: a kiss on the cheek from a loose woman. He dressed in his Sunday best and stepped in the door of the most evil place in town, the Cleveland Community Bingo Center. In his youth, his parents warned him of the evils of games of chance and how the young wasted their lives away in bingo parlors with loud music and raucous acts of sexuality.

Amos sidled up next to the gal with the most make-up, an obvious whore named Millie. Her milky, lined, liver-spotted skin had been powdered to the nines. Her cheeks were rouged redder than Solomon's most prized concubine. Her silvery hair was coiffed high in seductive glory. She winked one eye, caked with fuchsia eye-shadow, at Amos and nodded toward the back alley exit. She wheeled her Jazzy™ out the door and Amos followed willingly, entranced by her sexual prowess.

Once outside, Millie wasted no time. "Get them young neck veins over here, boy. I need to be finished in time to get home for Jeopardy," she said. Obediently Amos leaned down toward her awaiting fangs, gleaming from nightly use of Polident. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then bit deep into his neck. Amos's vision began to blur. He became dizzy and fell, hitting his head on the frame of the Jazzy™.

He awoke hours later, well past his bedtime, with a splitting headache and a handful of Werther's Originals in his pocket. Confused, and for some reason hungering for blood, Amos stumbled back to his room at the motor lodge. It had been an immensely satisfying rumspringa, but it was time to go home.