The Magic of the Undead

Halloween is upon us, an we can't deny our lust for the dreadful, yet conversely beautiful, undead.

Teenage girls and middle-aged women cannot resist the allure of vampirism. It is temptation in its purest form.

We dream of the tormented monster, the one who denies his very nature and strives to regain a thread of humanity. We wish him into our lives, into our hearts. We want to love the creature that doesn't want to be loved. Good girls want to change the bad boy. They want him to declare his undying affection for them.

It is true, vampires are the ultimate Doms.

Everything about them--from their looks to their imposing presence--is meant to lure us in. We're nothing more than the sheep happily trotting into the slaughter. 

Why are we, then, so enamored with the notion of the undead? 

There is no easy answer. Vampires force us to indulge in our overarching wickedness. We are inherently aggressive, sometimes driven by our basest instincts. Of course the vampire does not follow the rules. The undead can get away with everything, as they are not limited in the same way that we are. They've had several lifetimes to master stealth and wit, after all. We are covetous of the precious things they have: immortality, the cunning of the ages, their refusal to surrender their youth to Father Time.

This fantasy starts innocently: we want an emotionally available vampire, sweet and gentle, whose nights consist of pampering us and planting kisses on our forehead. But as we mature so do our fantasies. Sweet and gentle is not enough. We want passion, fire and excitement. Feelings and emotions cease to be important. The stereotype of the bad boy, seeking redemption, resonates with us. We want to save the bad boy. We want him to enlist our help. 

But even more scandalous is the fact that we aspire to be like the bad boy. We want to channel our wickedness through sadomasochistic behavior. We want to employ the threat of fangs as a means to fulfill our needs and wants. Equally arousing is the man who uses his fangs to exert dominance.

The vampire is a womanizer. His old world charm is particularly irresistible. It's the perfect tool to mesmerize and draw oblivious young women to them.  

There is no greater womanizer than Count Dracula himself. 

His strange physical deformities (Hairy palms? Really? Think about the connotations) not only seem to work in his favor but make him all the more attractive. Heavy-bosomed women parade behind him, ready to pleasure him and tend to his needs. Hello, blood bags. 

It also helps that he has a way with people and is able to magnetize them. 

I imagine Dracula to be the sugar daddy of vampires. He pays generously for the services afforded him. (If you haven't guessed, the pay is immortality and eternal youth.) Who wouldn't want to offer herself up for a taste of immortality? Don't roll your eyes. We're all greedy, after all. 

Everyone's dying, but you're not old yet. 

We want to stir the monster beneath the surface. Maybe even slough off our good girl skin and indulge in hedonistic behavior. Yes, that sounds like a plan. 

The sexual overtones inherent in vampirism flash like a neon sign. We associate it with the liberation of sexuality, a representation of our primal urges--all of the things that make us uncivilized.

The point is, all I want for Halloween is a vampire. (Edward Cullen is not an option.)