Pastel Horror: Fangs!

[Personalias]

Brian stumbled stumbled home to his Queens apartment drunk.  Not just any drunk; subway drunk. Subway drunk was a special kind of drunk.  It meant that Brian’s thoughts were too jumbled hail a taxi; his fingers too thick and dumb to call an Uber.  His speech too slurred to intelligibly tell anyone where he was going besides “home”.

Subway drunk was at least four or five shots of Jager past blackout drunk.  Subway drunk meant that if he didn’t go home RIGHT now, he’d be spending the night and most of next morning wherever he next sat down.  So he’d shambled the few blocks over to the nearest entrance, got on the train home, and held himself upright(ish) leaning against a pole and giggled at his reflection.

Brian didn’t even look that funny.  Most people were dressed up tonight.  It was fuckin’ Halloween.  Shit, it was New York; people didn’t need an excuse to dress up.  Just in Brian’s subway drunk state of mind, he’d found it funny that Dracula cast a reflection is all.  

The twenty-eight year old didn’t even look like one of the “cool” Draculas.  Brian had chosen to go full Bela Lugos (or Adam Sandler as he thought of it):  Black hair slicked back.  White tuxedo shirt and black pants and loafers; all brought together with a cape, a costume jewelry medallion, and cheap plastic fangs that he’d lost half an hour into the party.

AND WHAT A RAGER IT HAD BEEN!  Drinks a plenty, free love, there had been more than cocoa in those brownies, and it wasn’t just pot that was being smoked.  Even now, as he limped up the last couple of steps to his apartment’s floor -subway drunk also meant too drunk to hit the right elevator button- the sights smells, and sounds rattled around him and tastes.

So many sexy girls, too.  Halloween might as well be called “All Sluts Day”.  Something in women just changed when they had a sexy costume on; it was like they suddenly didn’t care.  Good times for guys like Brian.

By his count, he’d made out with two sexy Ronald McDonalds, banged a sexy Sonic the hedgehog, and eaten out sexy corn; and that was before he had gotten too blitzed to care about costumes.  

Stopping at his door, Brian tugged at his collar and felt the material of his costume.  this might not even be his original cape.  He hadn’t been the only Dracula there.  It was only as he was digging through his pockets hoping that he didn’t accidentally drop his keys on the train that the thunk-thunking that exploded out with every limp was a jack-o-lantern he’d stepped in somewhere between the party and his door.
It wasn’t the first slimy thing he’d stuck his foot in that night.  The thought made him smirk again. He’d probably be disgusted with himself tomorrow morning for even having that thought...but that was tomorrow morning.

The pitter patter of not so little feet got Brian’s attention.  It didn’t sober him up any, but it made him whip his head toward the stairwell.  Halloween was a night for freaky shit, but it was also a night for people who couldn’t handle their freaky shit, and Brian had learned that when you hear feet pounding you get ready to run yourself.  It would be just his luck for some asshole high on shit he couldn’t handle to think it’d be funny to mug or tackle him, or to trample him running from ghosts and goblins that only he could see.

The sound of bare feet slapping on the ground preceded an absolutely intimidating silhouette.  In the dimly lit hallway the running figure was a beast, a real brick shithouse of a man, (or woman). Towering, squared shoulders and barrel chested, this guy could have been the Boris Karloff to Brian’s Lugosi, (or the Kevin James to his Sandler).

A microsecond’s inspection revealed that the shadowy figure hadn’t been running at all.  Hurriedly walking perhaps, with heavy thundering foot steps slamming and slapping on the floor; but not running. The left foot never left the ground before the right foot planted itself. 

 That didn’t make the silhouette less intimidating.   Even the way he moved all stiff legged and lock-kneed unnerved Brian.  The fact that the guy zig-zagged as he run walked didn’t take away from the chill factor.  Either this mook was really in character or he was as far away from even subway drunk as Brian was from sober.  Drunkards and high people were fun to be around.  People on the verge of overdose or on much harder stuff were.

Adrenaline pumping and his manual dexterity failing him, Brian gave up on opening the door to his apartment and palmed his keys, making sure the longest and sharpest ones were protruding from out between his knuckles.  Fuck Dracula, might have to go Wolverine on this ass. 

“I’mma punchim inda balls, then stabbim inda eyes…” Brian slurred.  Balls. Then eyes.  Balls. Then eyes.  No such thing as a fair fight in real life.  Shit, why didn’t he have a gun?  His keys almost dropped to the floor when his own personal Franken-zombie came closer into the light.  “Dafuuuuuuuuuq?”

The guy was built still built like a brick shithouse, but literally nothing else about him was intimidating in the least.  Shithouse might have been a poor choice of words considering.  The dude was naked save for his diaper.  His very wet diaper by the look of things. Brian’s mind rearranged itself then and there.  This wasn’t a threat.  This was at most a weird ass prank.  Dude hadn’t been zombie walking, he’d been toddling.  Even now, not five feet away, he seemed topheavy, like a one-year-old that hadn’t quite figured his own legs out. 

In a weird way, Brian was impressed.  Dude was a full method actor.  That and probably as high as he was.  Maybe both?  First one, then the other; the order of which didn’t matter.

“Help meeeeee….” the big baby whispered and whined.  “I need help!”

“Awwwwww,” Brian chuckled.  He decided to get in on the act.  “Have you lost your Mommy, little guy?”  Even drunk as a skunk, Brian made sure to enunciate every syllable to be as humiliatingly babyish as possible.  He would have risked pinching the dude’s cheeks, if dude hadn’t been able to rip him in half like a phone book.

Seriously, though.  If the guy didn’t wanna be talked to like this, he wouldn’t be dressing or walking the way he was.  Clearly, Brian drunkenly thought, he was doing this pampered punk a favor.  Heh.  That’d have to be another line he used.

“I’m serious!” the guy yelped.  “Something’s happening to me!  They’re after me!  You’ve gotta help me!”  Dude was having some kind of bad trip.  In the dim light of the apartment hallway, Brian squinted.  

Maybe more than a bad trip…

The stranger’s hair was thin and wispy.  No big surprise, there. Steroids were a thing.  Something was odd about it, though. Brian couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it seemed less like old hair that had thinned out and more like new hair that was just starting to grow in, and Brian couldn’t precisely figure out why he thought that.  Maybe it was because his hair vaguely smelt of baby shampoo….

Baby dude’s skin seemed smooth too.  No hair.  No stubble.  No scars or blemishes or calluses.  Perfectly soft, baby smooth skin that glistened like baby oil.

The sounds of heels clicked up the stairwell.

Baby man’s eyes went wide. “They’re coming for me!” The stranger’s voice shot up almost an octave. The guy was a living tank but all of a sudden he looked like he really needed his diaper at the sound of those heels echoing up into the hallway.  Smelled like he needed  it too.  The reeking mix of fresh urine and baked in baby powder invaded Brian’s nostrils.  

“Holeeeshit,” Brian slurred.  “Thassa real diaper, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…!”  Baby costume’s voice was fast and panicky.  His head kept swiveling between the apartment’s stairs and the.

“Issat a Pampers?”  Brian asked.  “Like a real baby diaper?”  His sister-in-law had a kid about that age.  This looked like a blown up version of the same diaper.  No plain white with a comedic safety pin holding it together.  Instead, baby cookie monster smiled along the thing’s waistband as two gigantic velcro tapes held the damn thing up against all odds.  It certainly wasn’t Depends as far as Brian could tell.  “That looks like sumfin a baby would wear.  My nephew wears-”

“Yeah! Sure!” the guy said.  “Just PLEEEEEASE let me into your house.”  

It was the teeth that did it.  Homeboy had freaky small teeth and tiny gaps in between them.  And when he drew out “PLEEEEEEASE” Brian swore he saw the teeth move.  They were retracting; sinking back into the man’s gums!

“Holy shit!”  As if to further expound on the transferration he was seeing (and he WAS seeing a transformation) Brian watched as well muscled arms and pecs, began to ripple and lose definition.  Same with his abs.  The man before him still looked every bit as; but he’d gone from gym bro big to a kind of farmboy intimidating as a layer of baby fat manifested over his muscles.

DING!

“Fuck!”  Tears were rolling down the guy’s slightly chubbier face as the elevator opened up and a shadow stretched out into the hallway.

Suddenly sober, (enough) Brian jiggled open the lock to his apartment. The big baby pushed his way into his apartment, stumbling on unsteady legs.  Brian followed suit and locked the door.  “Don’t turn on the light, don’t turn on the light.”  Baby man’s voice came out in high pitched whispers.  “They’ll think we’re not home…”

“Who the fuck is after you?” Brian demanded.  “Who are they?”

Even in the darkness of his unlit home, Brian could see the look of terror and certainty in the man’s face.  “Vampires.”

“Oh baaaaaaaby!” A feminine voice called from the hallway.  “Where arrrrrre you?”  Like devil’s hooves on brimstone, the clicking of stiletto heels clacked along in the hallway.

Then a second woman joined in.  “We know you’re here somewheeeeere!  I  can practically smell you.”

“And it smells like somebody needs a change.”

“Or will soon.”

“Vampires?”  Brian jerked his head towards the closed door.  “They sound like sorority chicks...or porn stars!”  Brian was incredulous; not because he didn’t believe what he was hearing, but because there’s only so much impossible that the human mind kind take in one sitting.  Men turning into big babies right in front of his face was one thing.  Lady vampires being the source was another.

Shaking on wobbly legs, the baby man had to lean up against a nearby wall to hold himself up.  “These two chicks are making out with me, yeah?” he said.  “Then I feel them bite me. Then I started feeling funny, and my clothes started turning into...into…” he gestured down to the very wet Pampers still hugging his hips.  “If they hadn’t started arguing about who was going to get to keep me, I wouldn’t have been able to get away!”

There was no blood.  No telltale puncture marks around the neck, either.  “Are you sure they’re vamp-?”

A sudden and violent knock at the door made Brian jump.  He almost wished he was wearing a diaper he’d been so startled.  “Hellooooo?” A voice called out.  “Is anyone in there?”

“Sir?” another chimed in.  “We’re babysitters and we’ve lost our child.  Can you help us find him?  He’s SUCH a cutie!  He wriggled out of his costume, and is just walking around in a diaper!”

“Maybe crawling around by now!” The first voice added.

Brian peeped through the hole in his door.  A second wave of subway drunk hit him as blood rushed away from his head and plummeted towards his nethers.  He’d thought they sounded like either sorority girls or porn stars.  Looking at them, porn stars was definitely closer to the mark.

Even through the fisheye lens he could tell they were gorgeous.  A petite blonde with pale (but not deathly so) skin smiled through the peephole. Her dark skinned companion smirked knowingly and chose just that time to suggestively adjust her considerable breasts.

Slung over the blonde’s shoulder was a light blue satchel bag. Brian could just make out babyish decorations of darker blue teddy bears holding rattles; and a baby bottle sticking out of a side pocket.  Brian had seen his sister-in-law tote one of these around too:  Blondie had a larger version of a baby’s diaper bag; one that would be overkill under normal circumstances.

“Don’t open the door!”  Baby man was on his knees now.  Somehow, Brian figured it was because he didn’t have a choice.  “I’m begging you!”

Through the hole, Brian watched the women with the ample bosom examine blondie’s baby bag.  “We just want our baby...Davey back!”

Baby man went pale.  “They know my name!  How do they know my name?!”

“It’s on your diaper bag, duh!” The blonde yelled. “You’re not nearly as quiet as you think you are, sweetie.”

The black woman rolled her eyes and elbowed her companion.  “Way to give the game away, Desdemona.”

Her petite friend shrugged.  “Sorry, Ember.  I just couldn’t help myself!”  The pair had the energy of a couple of sadistic kittens playing with their food.

“Sir,” the black woman, Ember apparently, called out. “We know you’ve got our baby in there!  If you don’t let us have him back, we’ll call the police!”

Brian actually had to fight off a guffaw; either because he was drunk or because the sheer audacity of the demand caught him off guard. “Dude might be in a diaper,” he called through the door, “but he’s no baby!  I’m not THAT drunk!”

The two women (vampires?) shared a look.  Eyebrows were cocked.  Smirks were turning into frowns.  “How can he tell?“ Desdemona, the white girl asked.  

Ember shrugged nonchalantly.  “Must have seen him before we…” she let the thought drift off a moment, and patted the diaper bag instead. 

“WE CAN HEAR YOU BITCHES!”  Brian shouted through the door.  “YOU’RE NOT QUIET EITHER!”

“WASN’T TRYING TO BE!” Desdemona shouted back.  She giggled and winked towards her companion.

“Were you at the party, too, sweetie?” Ember asked, her voice calm and condescending.

The party!  Brian looked at Davey (David?), now sitting splay legged on the floor and squinted.  Holy shit!  This guy HAD been there!  He’d been an absolutely ripped Larry The Lobster from Spongebob!  Killer costume and lots of red body paint, and almost every chick at the party had been wanting to smear it all over themselves.  Now, he was being reduced right in front of Brian’s eyes.

“I’m sowwy,” Davey trembled.  “I got scawed and fowwowed you home!  I didn’t know what ewse ta do!”  No more teeth for baby Davey it seemed.

“You could have gone to your own damn place!” Brian spat.  

He couldn’t clearly see Davey’s face, but he heard the fear in his voice.  “I don’t membuh how ta get home!”

“Helloooo!’ the blonde vampire (because Brian had finally accepted that they were, in fact, vampires) called through the door.  “We’re still here!  Waiting! And peckish!”  

“Davey,” the more mature acting of the two called out.  “If we don’t come in soon, sweetheart, you’re gonna bleed out straight into unbirth.  Tell your little friend to let us in and we can stop the leakage.”

“Not the one into your diaper, of course!” Desdemona giggled.

Davey shook his head feverishly.  “Noooooooooo!”  The monstrous women on the other side of the door were right about one thing.  Baby man was totally getting worse.

“You two can’t come in unless I invite you,” Brian asked.  “That’s how vampires work, right?”

There was a pause.  “We can’t cross the threshold, that is correct,” Ember said, her tone like a careful politician.  “But if we don’t come in, your friend is going to be unborn all over your carpet.”

“Where’s the blood?”  
The pair positively tittered at the question.  “We don’t drink blood,” Desdemona said, running a finger through her pale blonde hair.  “We drink life.”

“Then why isn’t he dying?  Getting old?  Turning into a skeleton?”  Brian demanded.

“Life is just time being poured into mortals like water into a balloon.” Ember said.  “Old age is just when the balloon’s about to pop.”

“Then...then…why isn’t he shrinking?”  Brian couldn’t help himself.  He had to know.  If he was going to have any chance of surviving this he’d need to understand the rules; and these vampires were falling for the oldest villain trope in the world.  The longer they kept talking, the closer to sunrise it would be.  “Why isn’t this guy getting lighter or younger or something?”

Vampires had to still hate sunlight, right?  Right.  God, Brian hoped all that bullshit about sparkling was just for those tween girl movies.  

“Most mortals will!” Desdemona squealed. “If you didn’t already know him from before, you’d just see a baby, right now!”

Bullshit!  Brian backed away from his peephole, and covered it with his hand just to feel safe.  Vampires could do that whole ‘look into my eyes’ nonsense.  For all he knew he could be being hypnotized right now.  He suddenly wished he’d thought of that earlier.  

Just to be on the safe side he looked back towards his new companion.  Based on his body language, Davey was increasingly out of it.  He was yawning and his head slumped against his chest as he mumbled incoherently to himself.   There was no blood, and whatever was leaking out of him was ending up in the giant sized diaper, but something was definitely draining out of the man.  Brian thought he might have even seen less hair up top.

“If you don’t believe us,” Ember called out, “turn on the lights and check his reflection!”

Brian flicked on the lights.  There was a desk table with a mirror where he habitually checked his hair before he left home and regularly dropped his keys when he returned. Sitting slumped over as he was, Brian couldn’t get a good look at the baby man’s reflection from where he stood.  WIth feet gently shuffling on the floor, he inched closer to the mirror.

He still couldn’t believe what he saw:  There in the mirror’s reflection, Brian saw a perfectly normal infant sitting on the floor in a perfectly normal (albeit very wet) diaper.  Brian spun around to look at the genuine article; but no transformation had otherwise occurred.

Davey looked up at him, and his bottom lip started to stick out.  “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

What was he crying about?  What was he doing?  Could he not talk?  Had something else happened?  Brian got his answer when a dark and impossibly strong hand clapped over his mouth; it’s partner snaking around his chest and pulling him tight.  Brian felt no heat from the hands that had grabbed him, only cold.  Like ice.  Like death.  Out of reflex, he reached up with one hand to try to pry the first away from his mouth.  The palm might as well have been welded to his lips.  It was only a pinky beneath his jaw, but it was practically a jack forcing his bottom row of teeth to be shoved up and gnashing against the top.

With his other arm he tried to elbow the monster in the solar plexus, knock the wind out of her.  All he got for his trouble was a dull thud and a sharp pain as he rammed his funny bone against the wooden desk behind him.  How in the-?!

“Thank you for turning the light on, little morsel,” the vampire calling herself Ember cooed at him.  He could feel the mass of her breasts up against his back and her arms wrapped around him.  Her breath was like a cool breeze on his ear, but there was nothing of the rest of her!  How?!   As if sensing his thoughts she whispered, “I told you the truth; baby boy.  I can’t cross the threshold without your invitation.”

Just on the periphery of his vision, Brian was allowed- no, MADE to turn his head- and watch as the second intruder crawled her way from the other side of the mirror.  “That’s one of the benefits of not having a reflection,” Desdemona grinned.  “Nothing gets in your way when you travel by mirror.”

Brian screamed as the blonde one pulled her legs out of the mirror and slipped them over the edge of the table.  A lot of good it did him; he had an undead gag muffling him.  “Just plug Davey up before all the life spills out of him.” The voice from behind Brian ordered.  “You don’t want a premie do you?”

Like a little girl who’d just been offered a kitten, the blonde monstress’s eyes sparkled.  “You mean he’s mine?”

“If you want.” Brian heard.  I’ve got mine, now.” Brian never saw the fangs.  His cheek had already been pinched and wriggled around like a chubby toddler’s on picture day before he knew that his mouth was uncovered.  The pinch on his face distracted him to the sharp, piercing pain on the opposite side of his neck.

Funny thing was it didn’t hurt. He was aware of the pain as his skin was broken; and then his neck went numb; rather like when an I.V. was inserted.  And just like a car crash victim being wheeled into the Emergency Room, Brian’s whole body felt like it was glowing as the drip set in and the sweet sweet pain killers started flowing into his system.

Inside his own mind, Brian was screaming.  Nothing was flowing into him; but everything was flowing out.  But he couldn’t move.  Everything just felt soooo...good.  “I...I...I have an erection,” he moaned. 

“That’s okay,” the blonde said.  She was busy lifting up her top and guiding Davey over to tit.  He couldn’t move his body...he didn’t want to move his eyes away.  So many conflicting emotions- mortal fear, lust, hunger jealousy- welled up inside of him as he watched the man baby latch on.  “Just go with the flow, little one,” she encouraged.  Whether she was talking to Davey or to him, Brian didn’t much care.

A low moan came out of him as his penis impotently spurted in his pants. It ached so from the abuse that it had been put through tonight, and from the abuse his whole body was suffering.  Backwards.  He was going backwards.  

His own lifetime was being drained from him; not the years he had left to live, but what he’d already lived.  He could feel his body hair evaporating off of him like morning dew.  He didn’t need a mirror to feel the hair on top of his head become finer and several shades lighter.  His mouth itched as adult teeth shrunk down to baby teeth and then retreated back inside his head. 

Unconsciously, he widened his stance as his pants became shorts.  Then Pull-Ups.  His cape and shirt merged with the morphing stuff to give the final Pampers; the first diaper he’d worn in over two decades.  “There we go…” the gentle breeze from behind him said.

The impossibly strong arms released him, and Brian fell forward.  He was a crawler, now.  He looked over and saw Davey being burped and then laid down on the back as his new Mommy...no, the Vampire Desdemona...started digging through the diaper bag.  “Let’s get baby sorted out.”  

Had the breastfeeding been that quick, or had Brian just lost that much time?  He wasn’t sure which he preferred. On one hand every minute as himself was precious; on the other hand, something deep down inside of him wanted Mommy’s tit for as long as possible.  Why should dumb ol’ Davey get all the fun? 

Brian could only let himself watch as the tapes to Davey’s diaper were ripped open and his Mommy started wiping all his pee-pee...and the last bits of grown-upness away while his own Mommy finished crawling on the mirror.

Something was wrong.  Something was very wrong.  But what?

 Moving around, he sat awkwardly on the floor and squeezed the picture of Elmo between his legs.  He still knew Elmo.  He was a big boy; yet frowned at that thought.  Something wasn’t right.  He hadn’t even noticed how squishy his own diaper had become.  Did that mean he was wet? 

 Brian wasn’t sure; couldn’t be sure. He hadn’t even been consciously aware of him wetting himself.  He’d lost his potty training.

This time, she had her own blue diaper bag. But it had Brian’s name on it.  Not that Brian could read; he just knew that the the squiggly lines had to mean “Brian”, but it could just have easily said “Baby” or “Diapers” or “Scrumdiddlyumptious”.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Mommy said, her dark eyes shining brightly.  “People think we don’t exist anymore because we don’t leave corpses.”  She unbuttoned her blouse and opened up her nursing braw.  Brian started drooling.  “And we can go a long time without switching babies.  You’ll just get refilled and refilled with life, and Mommy Ember will take a liiiiiittle nibble here and there.  She’ll make sure to take care of you for a loooooong looooong time; make sure you never get as much life in you as before.  Never fill all the way up so Mommy will get to take care of you.  No more potty.  No more reading.  No more talking.  Nothing.  And when you’re finally all done and out of time...Mommy will get a new baby.”

Baby?  Brian looked up in the mirror. He literally didn’t recognize his own reflection.  Who was that chubby little tyke in the Pampers staring down at him?  It couldn’t have been Brian?  Could it?  He was on the verge of losing his object permanence. “And anybody who didn’t know you before tonight will just see you as Mommy’s cute little baby boy when we go out.  And anybody who did?”  She brushed Brian’s cheek with a leaking, inhuman nipple.  “This is New York.  Weirder stuff happens all the time.”

Brian latched on and let himself suckle.  Gums and tongue worked to fill himself back up and replace what had been taken. What little remained of his adult mind had worried that some thick ichorous substance would invade his mouth.  Instead, all he tasted was candy.  Chocolate!  Caramel!  Bubblegum!  All the candy of Halloween filled the boy’s mouth.

Greedily he gulped down.  Snickers.  Reese’s.  MnMs.  Starburst.  Skittles.  Each pull filled him more and more; but like so many empty calories he felt fuller yet nothing came into replace what he’d had taken from him.

He drifted off, still suckling as liquid milky dribbled down his throat; his mind drifting to oblivion.  He only woke when a sharp pain in his tummy commanded him to push.  It was only as the back seat of his Pampers started to feel warm and lumpy that he knew that Mommy Ember had been done feeding him, and was busy patting him on the back.

He let out a loud belch, and even though he couldn’t understand what Mommy said, her words sounded happy.  Good.  He wanted Mommy to be as happy as he was. She was warm now; nice and warm.  Almost as warm as the stuff in his diaper.

 He opened his eyes and saw that Davey was rolling around on the floor; little baby brother unable to even crawl.  Brian promised himself that he’d be good and try to share as many toys with him as possible.

The Mommies started talking to each other about grown-up stuff while Brian was laid down on the floor.  Brian giggled and kicked while Mommy undid the tapes of his diaper.  He laughed while she smiled at him and wiped him down.  The wipes weren’t cold.  Mommy’s very touch warmed them an instant before they touched his bottom.  

Mommy dug around his Brian’s bag and unfolded a fresh diaper so that she could slide it under his bottom, easy as pie.  He let out a little sneeze as he was powdered, causing both Mommies to let out an “Awwwww!”

In another jiffy, the fresh diaper was taped up on his hips; this one with a funny green monster smiling up.  Brain could tell that this new diaper crinkly and dry, but that realization would be instantly forgotten by the time she picked him up and gave his bottom a playful pat.  Babies like Brian had such short attention spans after all. 

If he could have seen himself, Brian- the old Brian- would have screamed.  Objectively, two adult men were being kidnapped wearing nothing but overlarge Pampers and being dragged off into the night by maternal fiends; shitty and soiled nappies being the only evidence that they were ever there. 

 The rest of their lives would consist of sleeping in cribs during the day, unable to escape or get into mischief while their Mommies slept.  At night they would be fed upon with special kisses, and would gorge themselves on the bizarrely sweet and euphoric substances that their captors’ bodies produced.  They would be played with and changed and dressed up and bathed by the beautiful monsters; a strange hybrid of child, toy, livestock, and pet.   

They would be cooed at and tickled and read to and fed, but never nurtured...not really...nurtured things grew up.  Brian couldn’t know this, but if life was measured in years, he and his new little brother, barely a newborn, had decades to go; at least three score.  But if life was about experience and knowledge and memories; then their lives were forever over.  Permanent tabula rasas

Fortunately for Brian’s doomed psyche, when he looked in the mirror, all he saw were two precious baby boys being carried out the door by their Mommies; both incredibly warm.

[ABAlex]

"Subway drunk was at least four or five shots of Jager past blackout drunk.  Subway drunk meant that if he didn’t go home RIGHT now, he’d be spending the night and most of next morning wherever he next sat down. "

LOL I've been there

[Personalias]

Just now, ABAlex said:

"Subway drunk was at least four or five shots of Jager past blackout drunk.  Subway drunk meant that if he didn’t go home RIGHT now, he’d be spending the night and most of next morning wherever he next sat down. "

LOL I've been there

I'm not saying that this is relatable because I too, have been subway drunk buuuuuut...

 

[Radioman]

Oh wow. Dam that was a good story. 
you never fail to post masterpieces. Bravo! 
 

Can’t wait to see what you post next. 
 

Radioman

[Personalias]

Just now, Radioman said:

Oh wow. Dam that was a good story. 
you never fail to post masterpieces. Bravo! 
 

Can’t wait to see what you post next. 
 

Radioman

Thanks.  What did you like about it?

[Radioman]

I like the combination of the regression, and sci-fi based on a story line that I can actually see myself in.
 

Although far fetched, I’ve been in situations similar up to the point of encounter with the “vampires”. 
 

It was kind of interesting how you flipped the vampire lore from what we normally think of age progression, to the point of death, to that of age regression, to almost the point of birth.
 

Your written style is comfortable to read and at least for me, flows. 
That’s a sign of a good writer. It’s flows instead of being blocky and disjointed. 

Hope this enlightens you for further story ideas and writing.

Radioman

[Personalias]

23 hours ago, Radioman said:

I like the combination of the regression, and sci-fi based on a story line that I can actually see myself in.
 

Although far fetched, I’ve been in situations similar up to the point of encounter with the “vampires”. 
 

It was kind of interesting how you flipped the vampire lore from what we normally think of age progression, to the point of death, to that of age regression, to almost the point of birth.
 

Your written style is comfortable to read and at least for me, flows. 
That’s a sign of a good writer. It’s flows instead of being blocky and disjointed. 

Hope this enlightens you for further story ideas and writing.

Radioman

Thank you for the feedback.  It's very much appreciated!