Creeping into reality (Hollywood and movie industry setting)

In the darkest corner of her crypt, the master vampiress has been cornered by the three hunters. Long John shots his flint pistol, lifts the stake high above his head and strikes.

“And cut! We are done here. Thanks everyone, I want a large round of applause.”

As the neon lights replace the dimmed projectors, the crew and cast follows the director’s lead. Everybody is exhausted, six weeks of filming has taken its toll on everyone.

“The production has organized a small party for everyone tomorrow night, I hope to see you all there!” the director finishes before retiring to his office to have a look at the rushes of the day.

The technicians start wrapping up the gear and the cast goes back to their respective trailers and changing rooms. Even if her last scene had been filmed a couple of hours ago, Drew stayed behind, she has always enjoyed the buzz of the wrap up of a set when the shooting finishes.

Star child actress a few years back, near miss for an Oscar, she went through a chaotic phase during her teens but her agent managed to get her this gig as the female lead in “Vampires vs Pirates” and it was supposed to be her big return on the silver screen. The name of the movie did not give up the best vibe but the script was actually pretty good. Her male counterpart, David Kropel, a sufficient prick, and the director were, and still are, two rising figures in the industry so she decided to give it a shot. A lead role in a shitty movie is always better than the string of stupid commercials and cameo appearances she had gone through over the last few years to pay for the bills of her overly expensive penthouse in Beverly Hills.

The shooting had gone well and she is confident that the movie will get good results. She walks around the stage, idle. The make up artist is packing up, she hesitates for a second before walking to him.

“Jim...?”

“Yes, Miss Berry?”

“What are you going to do with all the props?”

“Well, it depends, most of them will be thrown away. I might keep a few in case the movie is a success. Why the question?”

Drew hesitates.

“My fangs... do you mind?”

He smiles looking in his bag.

“Not at all, here you go...”

Drew looks at the two prosthesis in her hand. Tiny fangs made of resin just for her, not very heavy but so realistic under the correct lighting. In the movie, she was supposed to lure the head vampire into biting her for her lover to take advantage of the monster’s weakness and kill her. Her fangs would start to come out after the attack but Long John would save her with the Quetzalcoatl pendulum he would collect in the monster’s ashes... That scene had been shot weeks ago but she knew the makeup artist had kept them in case of. Now that the film is wrapped up...

She smiles, she enjoyed the filming of that part very much. She pockets them, thanks the specialist and exits the set.

The Californian sun is low over the horizon. She cannot wait to get back home.

An hour later, she finally parks her convertible in her parking spot. She hops out, climbs the three flights of stairs and gets inside her penthouse. Not waiting for the door to lock itself behind her, she slips out of her dirty clothes. A tingling noise on the floor attracts her attention. The fangs have rolled out of her pocket. She shrugs and moves on to take a shower.

Another hour later, sipping on a glass of red Napa Valley Shiraz, only wrapped in a large fluffy white bathrobe, she rests on her couch listening to Ninety eighties rock when she spots them again. Putting her glass down, she stands up and looks at them. It is weird, in the evening light, they seem changed, shinier, more real. She picks one. It feels heavier than before in her hand. She runs a finger against the edge. It also feels sharper than in her memory. It must be the wine and the exhaustion, she reasons.

She picks up the second one and walks back to her wine. The fangs on her table, she starts sipping on her glass again but something keeps bugging her. Is it David’s attitude towards her during the shooting or maybe the fact that she has no job lined up between now and the promotional tour for the movie? She pours herself another glass, then another glass and then another. Her eyes keep coming back to the two shining props on the table.

She tries to pour herself one last glass but the bottle is empty. She is feeling quite drunk but she is still thirsty.

She finally picks the fangs again.

“Damn it,” she says out loud walking to her bathroom, the pair of fangs in hand.

She looks at the prostesis, at her face. She rolls her lip upwards, she looks at her teeth, at the prosthesis. She places the first one and then the second one. Just like she remembers, they fit right in, custom-made, and they look so real... the magic of hollywood. Letting her bathrobe open, she looks at herself, her firm breast, her long red hair, her shiny little fangs... she does look hot in those.

She walks back to her living room but instead of heading for another glass, she goes to her bedroom. The fangs feel good in her mouth. For a second, she pictures herself stepping into the room of her next door neighbor to suck his blood. She laughs at her own vivid imagination. She walks to her night table. She hesitates for a second and opens it.

She smiles, there it is, her most trusted lover, she turns off the lights and sits on her bed taking out the small wooden box. This was a present given to her by a former lover. It was intended ironically but, ironically, it was more performant than the lover in question. A small bubbly violet head, three speeds, fully charged. She spreads her legs, picks a cigarette, lights it and start lazily rubbing her tiny friend against her already damp slit.

She relaxes enjoying the faint buzzing of the comforter over the rumbling city sound and the delicious vibrations it sends to her intimacy. As her pleasure starts to build up, a weird tingling feeling takes over her gums. She dismisses it, too preoccupied by her looming orgasm.

Eventually, she falls asleep.