Le Claire's Moving Buffet

After finishing the document, she left it in the print queue for her personal assistant and switched off her laptop. Her mouth is cold, and she longs for the warmth of an anthropoid crimson to warm her. Walking past her personal assistant’s desk, she sticks a post-it note there so she can print and send the letter in the morning. Miss Vera Le Claire goes beyond the security barrier while she messages her restaurant to book her favourite table.

A street light highlights her pale complexion, as she causes a shadow in its path and slips into the embrace of the night. Distant noises of homeward-bound traffic echo with car horns beeping. People crave their home comforts while I crave blood on the restaurant’s white tablecloths. These anthropoids rattle their wants off as shopping lists when all I need is to feed. To feel their life blood pulsating in my mouth.

Only the moment the sweet, thick liquid flows down her throat can she taste anything at all. Or feel warm and alive. Food is warm ash and embraces sexual or friendship feel like a tepid tea bag on a winter morning. Utterly useless and unwanted to her.

The long black limousine waits just past where the street lamp light ends. Stepping to the open door, she mutters to her driver. “Mister and Missus Bund, the restaurant John. I have a snack which is being kept warm there. Bring the special stain remover.”

He nods and closes her door as she presses up on the open window. Inside, he clicks the auto drive and the pop up driver speaks. “Welcome to V-drivers where we drive when you are busy snacking.”

“Number two and medium speed, please. We have Miss Vera on board, so get all the problems and solutions ready for her approval.” A green yes light flashes on the car dash. The restaurant manager has acknowledged his request.

As they reach near Miss Vera’s restaurant, her melody fills the mind of her warm prey to feel her fear, which tastes like fine wine to her hunter senses.The prey rests at the alcove of her usual table with a crew disposal button by Miss Vera’s side. The woman in high heels as a prey has bruised knees under the table where she tried to run. Her long wavy dark hair is sprawled across her face hiding some of her dried tears.

***

Outside the restaurant the fresh rain splashes against Miss Vera’s six inch open toe sandals but the sensation of cold on her ice cold skin doesn’t register at all.

Inside the restaurant, her staff gather at the front by the microwave ready to warm her pint of blood if the new sleeping victim isn’t suitable.

Miss Vera bends her thumb nail to activate the blood testing blade and thrusts it into the neck of the sleeping dark haired woman. Resting the blade on the tip of her tongue, her double prongs deposit the flavour on her taste buds. She nods and they help the sleeping woman to her feet and take her to a private booth.

“Good evening Miss Vera Le Claire. I hope you had a productive week?”

“Hello Jules Cass, a pleasant night for a slow hunt dinner, don’t you think? Though I don’t have time to savour the flavour.”

“Of course, Miss Vera. We have your fresh- caught first course ready for you. Do you want a report first or your meal?”

“I will go downstairs first, then dine after, so keep my food warm and maybe a little spicy.”

The vampire Le Claire quickly moves to be in front of her prey and hisses to remove the vampiric song of dreams from her mind. “You have me to dine with soon.” She moves closer to absorb the rich terror that the prey feels. “Unfortunate that you will not be eating tonight, as you are my feast. My blade in your neck tells me you will be divine.”

Eyes stare forward and the fresh puncture wound creates a path down her tanned smooth flesh. A gloved hand quickly covers her mouth, stifling the screams that try to escape. Food security wrenches her towards the holding cell - a place Miss Vera playfully calls the “moving buffet room,” a chilling moniker for the last place the human is alive.

In the restaurant heading towards the office, the click clack of Miss Vera’s heels moves past other vampire community diners who nod. Time to hear the usual myriad of problems, Miss Vera thinks.

***

Sitting in her office with a small glass of red, Miss Vera swings her legs as her restaurant manager lists the week’s problems.

“There are 315 different shades of white. But I still can’t get the bloodstains out to match the other tablecloths, Miss Vera.”

Miss Vera waves one long red nailed finger in a circle. “John, give Miss Cass the remedy. One pipette drop will suffice just before you put on the washing cycle on a 30 degree wash. Keep the bottle with you at all times - remember I will know if you share it and the crew will take you to the docks for your indiscretion. Email me the non-stain related issues and I will reply after dinner.”

***

Zipping up flat riding boots, Miss Vera circles her raised finger at food security while she waits at the window of the holding cell. Inside, cut hands are continually banging on toughened glass and her mouth is open wide. The soundproof room prevents Miss Vera’s audible pleasure, so she clicks on the sound from inside the room.

“Let me out! I’m bleeding and men in black suits pushed me in here. I need to go home and feed my cat. My mum will ring me later and I need to check she is still well. Please let me live. I know this is a vampire community restaurant. Us humans always avoid this end of town. How did I end up here?”

In moments, the holding cell door clicks open. Miss Vera wipes a satisfying drip of life nectar from her bottom lip. Feeling the heartbeat of the prey again.

In a crumpled mess on the floor, the prey makes a weak sound. She blinks while coughing as her heart slows. She whispers. “Wait, don’t kill me, but flow your spirit into me once every four weeks so you can taste all the food again. Relish fine cuisine and consume everything you want to devour as fresh experiences.”

“I can do that anyway,” Le Claire smirks, crouching down to smell an added fragrance of the prey's blood. The desire to live.

***

Outside in the freezing rain, Miss Vera’s driver, John mutters. “This isn’t what I signed up for. But it’s better than stacking shelves in a supermarket during the night when I can stalk fresh prey for my V-snack wagon delivery service, Just V.. We vampires always give extra bonuses for spicy humans. So I can be rough and scary and get paid for it.”