The Cat Vampire

Strange Nigthmare

Adama Thioy

Débo ditched me again, that b***h. Here I am, having to go on her own date. I always knew this idea was totally stupid. However, since no guys look at us in high school, I found matchCutGuys to be a stepping stone. I signed up without daring to ask for a date, but Débo did. She paid 5000 francs for a random date and asked me to come with her. But once we were seated, she pretended she urgently needed to go to the bathroom... never to return.

I sat there like an i***t twiddling my thumbs, until the famous guy showed up and mistook me for his date.

He's not bad. Well-built, hypnotic gaze. The only small downside is that he's very light-skinned. Me, I prefer guys who are muscular and dark-skinned.

Yeah, that's my fantasy, and you have no right to judge me for it.

Anyway, he showed up with a big smile and joined me, extending his hand. I notice it's written on his silver bracelet: ID.

"Idrissa Diallo," he introduced himself as I shook his hand.

Ah, I see: ID, those are his initials.

"Adama Thioy," I respond in turn with a brief smile.

He sits down across from me, looking a bit nervous.

I linger on his curls; he must be mixed, judging by the texture of his hair and his café au lait skin color.

"Um, should we order something?" he asks, picking up the menu on the table.

I don't really know what to tell him. Before coming, I stuffed myself with a big bowl of thieb.

Restaurant dishes are never filling enough for my taste.

"A glass of water will do," I say.

"You think people come to restaurants just to drink a simple glass of water?" he declares with an amused little laugh.

I smile in turn. He's not wrong. The problem is, I don't have much appetite since I'd already quenched my thirst and hunger.

"You seem pretty down-to-earth, far from the profile picture I saw on the app. Oh yeah, your other hand with 6 fingers. That was probably AI-edited."

I burst out laughing, even though deep down I wanted to teleport directly to Débo's place and strangle her. She's behind this poor joke, I'm certain of it.

"Um... I... yes, how should I say..."

Damn, I don't even know what excuse I should come up with.

"Are you okay?" Idrissa worries.

"... Yes, give me a second." I get up abruptly, dropping my phone that I'd placed on my lap. I'd even forgotten I'd put it there. Damn it.

Idrissa rushes to bend down to pick it up, I do the same and there... we bump into each other.

"Ouch, sorry..."

"No, I'm the one who's sorry."

With a tender look, Idrissa straightens up first, but hits his head on the table. He yells in pain while I approach to massage his neck, holding back from giggling.

"Feeling better?" I ask him, withdrawing my hand.

"Yes, thank you very much."

This time, I help him get free from under the table, but as soon as he's seated, the waiter appears with a large silver jar and a small ladle that he places on our table.

He fills a ladle with a red liquor that, I don't know why, seems to me to be... blood.

My heart leaps in my chest when I realize that all the other diners are drinking the same scarlet liquor and suddenly display nasty faces. All the windows are closed, and curtains—that weren't there before—cover them.

I must be hallucinating. I rub my hands over my eyes but nothing changes. The scene remains just as surreal.

Even more freaky: Idrissa was drinking greedily with the ladle and asking for more each time. His thirst, at that moment, seemed unquenchable.

But what do you drink like that? It doesn't have the texture of red wine...

"More!" Idrissa shouts, drunk on I don't know what. Red traces flow down the corner of his lips.

"Sorry Sir, there's no more left..."

"I'm still thirsty. Come closer so we can discuss it."

His gaze was empty, and his skin had suddenly become lighter, to the point that his red veins, filled with blood, were visible.

There, I was convinced I was participating in something not quite right.

I was trembling to the point of no longer being able to stay calm.

At the other tables, greedy eyes were watching me. By the time I brought my gaze back to him, Idrissa had already become a monster, with big bulging eyes and elongated limbs.

The waiter, next to him, had his ear pressed to his mouth. His horrified gaze remained fixed in the void. He was nothing more than a carcass. The bowl that had miraculously filled to the brim confirmed my thoughts.

"What... what's going on here?" I finally had the courage to ask.

"We're drinking beverages, like in all restaurants," he answered calmly, serving himself.

"And what are you drinking?"

"Bissap juice... human. You know, it's rich in nutrients and good for our health."

It only took him taking another sip for me to start throwing up. The fact of knowing he was drinking blood completely changed how I perceived his libation.

I already felt like I was next to go through the press. I desperately searched for an exit... but nothing.

"You, we're saving you for tonight's supper. Darling, can you come put her in the warm room so her blood is nice and boiling?"

He snapped his fingers, and from the shadows emerged Débo in a miniskirt and black high heels.

She had the same stupid hyena smile as all the others.

"Yes, baby, it will be my pleasure..."

She immediately approached me, dragging a huge funnel while I let out a gloomy cry of terror...

Break

I flutter my eyes and realize it was all in my head. I was facing Débo and her boyfriend. A waiter was filling our glasses with bissap.

I grab mine and hesitate before bringing it to my lips.

"Look who I found by paying for a match for you. He's hot, right?"

Débo shows me the profile of a guy who looks exactly like the vampire from my dream.

"Idrissa Diallo, 20 years old, computer science student, classy," Débo reads, scrolling through the profile. "I think he could interest you."

I instantly got cold sweats.

Same look. Same name. That can't just be a coincidence.

What if I'd had a premonitory vision?

"Hey, Earth calling!" Débo waves her hands in front of my face to reconnect me.

I come out of my thoughts a bit abruptly.

"So, are you going on this date?" my friend insists, as her boyfriend looks at us in turn, laughing.

"I..."

"You're going and that's that!" she cuts me off.

I wanted to tell her about my vision, but in the end I reconsider.

Maybe it was just my imagination. Anyway, vampires are just collective hysteria... they simply can't exist...

"Okay. You'll give me more details when you have them." I reply with a brief smile, more or less convinced...

To be continued...