An Elegant Feast

Sergio lassoed his sea-foam blue tie around his neck, tying it in a tasteful Windsor knot, and tucked it snuggly against his breast under his ebony and cinder checkered suit coat.

Why was Sergio dressed so finely this Tuesday evening? Well, he was on his way to Vicki’s apartment to have a most elegant feast, the likes of which he had not had in over a months time.

To say Sergio was excited was an understatement. Vicki’s was exquisite. He had only known her for three weeks now, but Vicki was all he could think about. Like the flavor of a mint persisting long after it has been sucked on and swallowed, or like a savory smell that lingers long after the meal is finished, Vicki persisted and lingered in Sergio’s mind every waking moment of every day.

Vicki was not the most beautiful woman Sergio had ever courted — and he had courted scores — but she was also not ugly by any means. Thick boned and a little plump in just the right areas, Vicki was not fat, just bolstered. There was a natural flush to her cheeks and the blood under her skin seemed to bring an almost radiance to its paleness.

She was odder than many of the women Sergio had courted over the years. She seemed to zone out often, staring blankly at things Sergio could never see. She also had a slight twitch in her left eye, maybe a nervous tick or some genetic shortcoming? And she loved red meat. Loved it with a passion that made die-hard futból fans seem like band-wagoners by comparison. She had red meat at every meal they ate together and insisted that it be cooked only at the rarest cook that the restaurant would allow.

But for all her oddities, it didn’t matter. Because Sergio was enthralled at the thought of the meal he would be having with Vicki tonight. And so, he checked his teeth one more time in the mirror, wrapped his matching sea-foam blue scarf around his pallid neck, and hurried into the hustle and bustle of the New York streets.

Vicki only lived six blocks from Sergio’s apartment, but as this was his first time going to her apartment, he left with a quarter of an hour to spare.

Walking along the energetic streets of New York City, Sergio couldn’t help but walk with a spring in his step. This was what he lived for. This was the greatest enjoyment of his life. An elegant feast.

As he passed one-dollar pizza shops, avoided scrappy hot dog salesmen, and wormed his way through churlish crowds, Sergio passed a newly opened cake shop just two blocks from Vicki’s apartment.

This wasn’t good.

There were few things in the world that got Sergio’s heart thumping and his sweat dripping and his mouth salivating like that of a perfectly baked chocolate cake.

Sergio glanced down at his Louie Vuitton watch and contemplated whether he had enough time to stop and get a healthy slice of chocolate cake. This was truly a dilemma.

After standing like a rock in the fast moving stream of city-goers for far more time than was reasonably expected, Sergio decided against getting the cake.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means. If there was one thing he was susceptible to in this life, it was chocolate cake. But the feast he was about to have at Vicki’s would easily make up for the loss of the cake. And hey, maybe he would stop by on the way home and grab a slice if they were still open.

And so, Sergio sucked in a deep breath and bravely passed the cake shop window, arriving at Vicki’s apartment only a few short minutes later.

The time had come. The elegant feast was on the other side of the door. One knock, one rapping of knuckles against the weather-worn grain of the door, and he would have his feast.

As he raised his hand to the door, Sergio thought about what he was about to do.

Poor Vicki had never known that it was all a sham. She never knew that Sergio had been grooming her for the past three weeks, not to be romantically involved with her, but to suck her dry of her precious lifeblood. She never knew that Sergio was a fantasy story come to life; for Sergio was a vampire.

He had duped hundreds upon hundreds of women over the past eight centuries just like he was duping Vicki. He was only doing what needed to be done to survive. Drain the blood of a human only once a month, live for an eternity.

Sergio wasn’t heartless. He wasn’t cruel. He did like Vicki, if, albeit, it wasn’t in a romantic way. She was nice and wholesome and pleasing to be around. But that blood of hers, teasing him just millimeters beneath her nearly translucent skin. That was what he wanted most.

And so, he knocked.

How long he waited made eight hundred years of life seem short in comparison. It couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds, but the anticipation of his feast being only moments away made the wait feel that much longer.

The torment ended once Vicki opened the door, only to be replaced instantly with an entirely new tribulation

Vicki was baking.

And because of his heightened sense of smell, Sergio knew instantly that it was nothing other than a chocolate cake.

A chocolate cake being made just for him.

“Surprise!” Vicki blurted out, dusting the flour from her face and trying to straighten out her apron. “I’m not sure if you will like it or not, but I made you a chocolate cake. I didn’t know what your favorite dessert was, so I figured I’d just make the safest option possible.”

Vicki had guessed right. But nothing could have been more wrong for Sergio than a chocolate cake. What was he to do now?

Over the next twenty minutes of the cake finishing up baking in the oven, Sergio faced one of the greatest existential crises of his life.

To eat Vicki or to eat the cake?

Unfortunately for Sergio, he knew he could never have his cake and his shake, so he had to pick just one.

Sergio was a gentleman, in spite of all that luring unsuspecting women to their doom thing, and he knew that if he stayed around long enough to eat the cake, he would be obligated not to drain Vicki’s succulent blood. He was too polite a man to kill a woman who went to the trouble of making him his favorite treat, even if she would never know his greater intentions until it was too late.

But on the other hand, Sergio had waited three long weeks for this moment. His veins twitched under the surface of his arms, his teeth tingled with excitement at the forthcoming meal, and his thoughts constantly ventured to those lush crimson cheeks of hers.

But look at that chocolate frosting, he thought to himself, I actually think she made this whole thing from scratch for me. And judging by the intoxicating smell, she is a damn good baker if I’ve ever seen one.

Sergio was dumbfounded. Never in his eight hundred years of existence had a decision weighed so heavily on him. Positioned between the two greatest delights of his life, he simply had to go with his gut feeling.

Sergio would have the cake today, and come back in a few days time to have Vicki’s blood.

As the minutes ran away while the cake finished baking, Vicki and Sergio tossed compliments and flirtatious advances at each other until the timer finally rang.

Another fifteen minutes passed of pleasant conversation as the cake cooled, and finally, the frosting was added and the cake was complete.

Sergio beamed, trusting he had made the right decision. Twice in fact. He had resisted the temptation of the cake shop and was rewarded with a fresh cake, and he resisted his initial lust for blood in favor for this masterpiece of delight.

Fork in hand and milk at the ready, Sergio took his long awaited bite and was filled with nothing short of ecstasy. The moistness of each bite, the rich molten chocolate oozing from hidden depths, and the crisp freshness of the chilled frosting made each bite a delight unparalleled even by master chefs.

Sergio savored every bite, basking in the flavor, before finally retiring to the sofa across from Vicki’s antique arm-chair.

The next few minutes passed with utter delight as Sergio enjoyed the company of a master of her trade. He even betrayed a passing thought of keeping her alive, if only for her baking prowess.

But alas, this would never be.

Sergio moved to lean forward, meaning to grab Vicki’s sublime hands to thank her, but surprisingly, he slumped sideways rather than forward. That was odd, he thought. Sergio hadn’t known a day of vertigo or nausea since before he was made a blood-sucker.

And yet, here he was, like a sixteen year old girl at her first house party who had drunk one to many margaritas.

As Sergio gained a semblance of his bearing, he looked up toward Vicki, intending to ask her for a glass of water or a cold towel. The eyes he met were anything but sympathetic.

Vicki’s face had transformed from the gentle, portly woman who had thoughtfully baked Sergio a cake into a sinister seductress who seemed to know far more than Sergio gave her credit.

A flash of panic came over him. Did she know he was a vampire? What had he done wrong to alert her? Had she uncovered the secret of his kind, the only secret that could never be known?

Well, it seemed she would get what she wanted either way, for he was so heavily drugged he would never be able to resist.

“Did you do this?” Sergio questioned, slurring his words. “Did you always know what I was?”

“I did this, yes. I drugged you,” Vicki smugly declared, “with the cake. That was no molten chocolate in the center of the cake. It was my own special blend of poison that leaves you completely immobile whilst still allowing you all five of your senses.”

“And why would I need those? What good will that do if your just going to get the powers of a vampire that you want?” Sergio asked through garbled words.

“Powers of a vampire?!” Vicki scoffed with arrogant indignation, “What damn nonsense are you spouting? This must have been a really potent batch.”

"No my friend,” Vicki continued, “you were never meant for anything other than to be my next meal. For the past three weeks, I have lead you on for this one moment, and you fell for it, all over a stupid cake.”

And suddenly it dawned on him.

“Ahh,” Sergio mused to himself in a whisper as everything fell into place, “that explains all the oddities I noticed. The twitch in her eye wasn’t natural, it was caused by the change to her body from eating other people. And the vague staring wasn’t because I was boring her, it was because she was messed up in the head. And that ravenous hunger for nearly raw meat. It all makes sense now.”

Looking up at Vicki as his vision began to darken, he saw Vicki pull out a glistening steak knife and a large ornamented silver fork. He took comfort that his people wouldn’t be exposed by this woman. He took comfort that his long existence was ending in an ironic turn of events. And he took comfort in his final feast.

Sergio uttered one final muse to himself as everything went dark and the knife pierced his skin: “At least I got to have my chocolate cake.”