“So, fledgling. That’s how we vampires kill and feed. Any questions?”
The ancient vampire folded his arms and watched his newest progeny wipe a smear of blood from his chin. The fledgling looked uncomfortable, not because of the feeding itself, but because of something else that had clearly been bothering him.
“Yeah,” the young vampire said. “Why do you always hiss at your victims before you bite them? They know we’re vampires already.”
The elder stared at him in silence. Then he sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“That,” he said, “is a fair question.”
The fledgling blinked. “So there’s a reason?”
“There was.”
The old vampire wandered toward a dusty window, moonlight spilling across his pale face. “Centuries ago, people didn’t know what vampires looked like. We couldn’t just walk into a village wearing a black coat and expect everyone to scream. We looked like ordinary people. The hiss was a warning.”
“A warning?”
“Yes. A professional courtesy. We’d reveal ourselves, hiss dramatically, then attack. It felt proper.”
The fledgling frowned. “But nowadays everyone recognizes vampires immediately.”
“I know.”
“Then why keep doing it?”
The elder looked away.
“Tradition?”
“No.”
“Intimidation?”
“No.”
“To sharpen your fangs?”
The ancient vampire’s expression became strangely embarrassed.
“It’s because…” He hesitated. “It’s because I like it.”
The fledgling stared.
“You what?”
“I like hissing.”
For several moments, neither vampire spoke.
“You hiss because you enjoy it?”
“It’s satisfying.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
The elder straightened indignantly. “Do not judge me. Humans have hobbies. Some collect stamps. Some play golf. I hiss.”
“You hiss at terrified victims.”
“It’s relaxing.”
The fledgling buried his face in his hands.
“Master, we’ve been hunted for centuries. Entire organizations track us. Modern surveillance cameras exist. We should be adapting.”
“And we have adapted,” the elder replied. “I hiss in high definition now.”
A long silence followed.
Then, from somewhere downstairs, a terrified human scream echoed through the mansion.
The fledgling groaned.
“Was that another victim?”
“Yes.”
“And you hissed first?”
“Obviously.”
The fledgling shook his head. “You know, I think vampire hunters aren’t our greatest threat.”
The elder raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?”
“No.” The fledgling sighed. “It’s the fact that our species is being led by dramatic weirdos.”
The ancient vampire considered this.
Then he smiled, revealing gleaming fangs.
“Hssssssss.”
The fledgling rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
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