Current Issue

Stories & essays will be released on our website every two weeks starting March 4.

Letter from the Editors
Alexandra Hill, Rowan Morrison, Lian Xia Rose

Fiction

The Frankly Impossible Weight of Han 
Maria Dong

The Taste of Centuries, the Taste of Home
Jennifer Hudak

All Worlds Left Behind
Iona Datt Sharma

A Little History of Things Lost & Found
Shingai Njeri Kagunda
Available April 15

Vampirito
K. Victoria Hernandez
Available April 29

Non-Fiction
Art

Issue 1.1
Lucia Li

Vampirito

Edited by Rowan Morrison || Narrated by TBD || Produced by Katalina Watt
Bullying, racism, colorism, sexual harassment
3900 words

Everybody knows that a true vampire, though possessed of many traits, is critically defined by three:

  1. Is afraid of the sun.
  2. Has really, really long fangs.
  3. Thirsts for human blood.

Eli was a true—one hundred percent, without a doubt—vampire, and had none of the traits above.

California days are long in the summer. In the winter, the sun would set before Eli got up and no one would be out to play, but in July, the sky was red, and warm, and just dim enough for his mom to sit outside without burning. She watched from the shade of an elm tree as Eli pushed his way into the small group of children gathered around the swings. They were discussing what to play next. One boy screamed, “Vampires and Priests!”—as filterless children will do, learning from their older siblings, cousins, parents, and all the generations before who thought, well, it doesn’t mean anything; no harm intended. Except harm had been intended, in the past if not the present. Painful lessons became reflexes and unexplainable anxieties, inherited like blood—and some knew how to strike the vein a bit too well. 

Eli had never heard of this game before. They didn’t play it at night school. His primos never played it, either, and for good reason, but Eli didn’t know that. No one had explained the game’s rules and origins to him yet. All he knew was the word vampire—very much like vampiro—and so he chimed in: “Oh! I’m a vampire! What game is that?”

Thus, the inquisition began.

Want to read more?

Our stories appear free on our website every two weeks after each issue launches (the 15th of February, May, August, November). Can’t wait to find out what happens next? Want to support a magazine dedicated to immigrant and diaspora voices? Head to our store to purchase an issue or a subscription.

K. Victoria Hernandez is a speculative fiction writer and aspiring ecologist. In 2018, she graduated from the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Workshop, and has since published work at Daily Science Fiction and Cotton Xenomorph, with more pieces forthcoming in 2021. The granddaughter of Mexican and Guatemalan immigrants, Hernandez’s heritage often informs her writing, as does her experience as a woman, a science nerd, and a really fidgety child. She currently lives in Southern California with her family and her friends who, for whatever reason, have decided she’s just funny enough to keep around.
Share This Post
Share on twitter
Share on facebook
Share on linkedin
Share on email
Share on print