News Summary

You never forget your first encounter with the undead.

Or the living dead.

Or the creepy, kooky and altogether ooky — whatever you want to call it.

But back in college, my future wife and I were at a Perkins restaurant, the big, after-midnight hangout in Sioux City, Iowa, when a goth chick strolled in.

Normally, I wouldn't have given her a second glance — not with the Buttermilk Five in front of me — but her cape did catch my eye.

My wife must've seen me do the double-take.

"I went to high school with her," she noted.

But what she said next made me wish I'd worn a turtleneck.

"She's a vampire."

In a pinch, I wondered if I could make the sign of the cross with two sausage links.

"Well," my wife continued, "she says she's a vampire."

I can wrap my head around a lot, but this was something I couldn't sink my teeth into.

There are subcultures, but then there are subcultures within the subcultures — and that's where things get freaky.

There's a whole bunch of people out there who, gulp, really think they're vampires.

The only reason I bring this up now, a week after Halloween, is that the next big event on the vampire social calendar is later this month, when the movie version of "Twilight" hits theaters on Nov. 21.

It'd be appropriate for Chakeres to hold a midnight screening — after all, it's not like they can come to a matinee.

Sure to be a hit, the movie is based on the first book in Stephenie Meyer's series about teen lovers Edward and Bella.

He's a vampire. She's not, but longs to be. (Cue the subtle eroticism!)

Geared toward young adults, the series has spawned 350 fan sites, making it about as popular as Renfield is crazy.

"We have the books," explained Allison Peck, spokeswoman for the Clark County Public Library, "but none of them are in."

The library has 60 copies of Meyer's four books.

"They get pretty good usage," Peck said.

Oh, not everyone who reads Meyer — or Anne Rice or Bram Stoker, for that matter — thinks they're a vampire.

That goes without saying.

I like vampires a lot, too. I count (no pun intended) the 1958 Hammer movie "Horror of Dracula" among my all-time favorites. My wife and I have a black cat named Mina.

But Meyer — a seemingly nice Mormon gal — has found herself feeding books to a group of people who are awfully serious about this stuff.

This is where it gets weird. Like, sharpen-up-a-wooden-stake weird.

I recently perused a Web site filled with, no joke, the e-mail addresses of countless people wishing to be contacted by a vampire and, thus, turned and "awakened."

The other morning, I myself was awakened by a vampire named Count Chocula.

Sorry. Just a little bloodsucking humor there.

In all seriousness, these real-life vampires do actually drink blood. The blood of willing donors, that is.

Another site provided blood donors with useful tips on how to get their life-force tastier.

Do eat pineapple and celery.

Don't eat asparagus or garlic.

Garlic? Well, duh.

Contact this reporter at (937) 328-0352 or amcginn@coxohio.com.