[ WP ] Going to a casual Vampire LARP , you discover that one player is an actual vampire .

“ This one is gon na be different, ” Mark said, “ I swear. ” 
 
 
 “ I don ’ t believe you, ” I said. 
 
 
 I should have believed Mark. 
 
 
 However, Mark ’ s knack for finding obscure conventions, festivals, and generally off-kilter social gatherings had recently led us to different, and so far unenjoyable, LARPing sessions. I couldn ’ t help but be cautious. 
 
 
 “ Why can ’ t we just go get a movie and eat pizza? C ’ mon Mark, I love pizza. ” 
 
 
 “ Try eating pizza with these! ” 
 
 
 He held up a small set of plastic vampire teeth. He smiled and I noticed that he had already put his in. They looked horrible, as if the factory had messed up the batch. You could see the warped and uneven lining across the top where the fake, plastic whites met Mark ’ s real, pinky gums. 
 
 
 “ These won ’ t fool anyone, ” I said. 
 
 
 He laughed, “ They ’ re not meant to! Obviously it ’ s a game of pretend. ” 
 
 
 I couldn ’ t argue with that. At least these weren ’ t as bad as the fake bolts we plastered to our necks last month. I would never attend a Frankenstein ’ s Monster LARP event again. The only thing that had made that event worth while was the incredibly handsome Dr. Frankenstein who pulled me aside to perform “ certain experiments ”. Mark warned me that sneaking off with strangers couldn ’ t possibly end well. 
 
 
 I should have believed Mark. 
 
 
 Right when we arrived to the meeting grounds for our session, it proved to be exactly the same as the other LARPing events we ’ d been to. There were lanterns hanging along the branches of the trees for effect, but the fires inside were actually just orange and red confetti lit up by a plastic tea candle. 
 
 
 Once everyone had seemingly arrived, we gathered around in a circle. The group was much smaller than we had expected, but Mark ’ s excitement made up for the lack of bodies. The crowd consisted of a few older folks, a tight-knit group of teenagers, and one guy who looked about our age. Nobody was talking to him, but I didn ’ t blame them. His eyes were a dark red, his skin was deathly pale, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that I ’ m surprised his teeth weren ’ t shattering in his mouth. Unlike the rest of us with much-too-long black robes and an overall giddy disposition, this guy with the contacts blew us out of the water. 
 
 
 The LARPing session went as you would expect any vampire LARPing event to go. The teenagers insisted on a sexy vampire story with shimmering skin, and the older folk wouldn ’ t enter your space until they were invited. It was funny how the lore varied with the generational differences, but the red-eyed loner seemed to not adhere to any of it. He kept quiet, only speaking when spoken to. And yet, I noticed that by the end of the night he had kept rather close to me. And I, inexplicably, rather close to him. 
 
 
 We ’ d make eye contact—my dark blue to his deepening red—and I ’ d flash the most alluring smile that my fake vampire teeth would allow, shifting their way down my gums until I slid them up again. His fake teeth didn ’ t move like mine did, but I wasn ’ t surprised. The contacts had been enough of a giveaway that this guy had some money to invest. 
 
 
 After the teenagers started refusing to invite the older group over, Mark tried to play mediator. I, however, exchanged another glance with Mr. Contacts and finally made my way over to him. The whole of the LARPing group was gathering in the middle of a clearing, but we held back on the edge of the trees, looking inward at Mark ’ s brilliant negotiation skills at work. 
 
 
 “ Wan na get out of here? ” was the first and only thing I would hear from the crimson-eyed man. He was bold, and I couldn ’ t remember the last time I ’ d encountered such confidence—not even from Dr. Frankenstein. I nodded and we both turned back to the forest. 
 
 
 We only walked for a couple minutes—just enough to steer clear of prying eyes and before I knew it he had my back pinned against a tree. I wasn ’ t complaining. His breath was sweet, his captivating red contacts were bordering on black, and his teeth… must have been very expensive. I watched a smile spread across his mouth, and as it got bigger, the lining of his fake teeth couldn ’ t even be seen. His gums were the same stark white as the pointed ends just an inch away from my own. 
 
 
 Needless to say, sneaking off with this stranger did not end well. 
 
 
 I should have believed Mark.
