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Vampire Monologue #4: Zever the Clever

By , About.com Guide

The following monologue is the fourth part of an ongoing creative project called "The Vampire Monologues" by Wade Bradford. It is an original monologue series published exclusively at About.com. Actors and students may freely use any of these monologues for educational purposes and amateur productions.

What Has Happened So Far:

In Part One, three recently "turned" vampires enter a funeral parlor. They meet Cunningham the Minion, who intimidates them while at he same time welcomes them to their new home.

In Part Two, Morgenroth the Elder enters. She is a stunning, young-looking vampire from ancient days. She explains some of the rules to the "new bloods," warning them that not many survive their first few months of being a vampire. Morgenroth compels the new arrivals to share their stories.

In Part Three, the young female vampire Aria is the first to reveal her back story. She was attracted to a tattooed motorcycle rider, who turned out to be a vampire. At the end of her monologue, the next vampire, a teen male named Zever stands up to tell his tale.

Character Profile:

Zever thinks he looks pretty cool with his black leather jacket, jeans, and trendy hair style. He, along with Aria and Spence, have arrived at this funeral home this evening. Zever appears the most confident of the three "new bloods," as he explains to the group how he transitioned from a human to a vampire.

ZEVER: You can call me Zever. That's the name I have chosen for myself. Unlike Aria, I was not seduced into this life. I didn't walk in for a tattoo parlor and leave with bite marks on my neck. I wanted this existence. And no, it wasn't because of the books and the movies. I knew that stuff was crap. Okay, I enjoyed watching Dracula and reading Salem's Lot. But I knew it was fiction. The kind of fiction, like the best of myths, that harbors a seed of truth at its core. My appearance right now is very urban. Cunningham laughed at my clothes, my sun glasses. I may look like a "poser," but this is the sort of outfit that attracts humans. Women want to meet me. Men want to beat he crap out of me. In either case, it lures them to me. They become easy prey. At least its worked well for me twice. I am still getting the hang of things. But if you had met me a year or two before I became, what was the word, a suckling? (Sarcastically.) What a great word. (Resumes in earnest.) Anyway, if you met me before I turned, you would have seen me barefoot and in overalls. I was quite the hick, before I left home. I grew up on a farm in Eastern Washington. An apple orchard, really, but we had some livestock. Not enough to sell, but enough to live on.

Working the land was the only thing my Dad was good at. He was a terrible husband. A terrible father. Not just because he would beat her. Not just because he would throw empty beer cans at my head and yell "Get me another!" But because he was inconsistent. Months would go by when he would be the sweetest man. Church going. Law abiding. Coming back from town with a bouquet of flowers for Mom. A surprise for me and my kid sister. He would be this wonderful person just long enough to trick us. Just long enough for us to actually believe that he was a changed man. To believe that he'd reformed all together. Then, BAM! He'd smack us upside the head. Or take off his belt and whip Mom for leaving dishes in he sink. One time she was taking a bath, relaxing after a long day of putting up with the world's worst husband, and he walked in -- I think she must have had her eyes closed, because she didn't know that he was there. And he dunked her head underwater, and held her there. For I don't know how long. My sister and I were just sitting on the couch, afraid to go in the bathroom. We were just sitting there crying, but not saying anything to him, because that just made things worse. We heard splashing. Struggling. We heard him laughing. That was he weirdest thing. He wasn't even angry. He wasn't even drunk. He was just fooling around. He thought it was funny that he had he power to bring her to the edge of death on a whim. Then, finally, we heard her come up for air. She was gasping, crying, pleading with him, asking what she had done to deserve this. And we could hear him telling her softly, "It's all right. I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. You were completely safe." And that's when I knew, I wanted to completely kill him. But I had to be smart about it. I had to be very patient. And very clever.

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