By 1957, one year after her mysterious disappearance in Las Vegas, the woman once known as Shrieky Von Tiki had become something else entirely, something ‘other’
Lonely beneath the desert moonlight and aching for the sass and shimmer of her old life, the Countess began, one by one, to summon her former cabaret scene girl gang, those glamorous souls who once shared her dressing rooms, borrowed her eyeliner, and held her hair back after too many martinis.
But when they arrived, lured by a whisper in the dark from beyond the grave, they didn’t find Shrieky, they found life everlasting, cursed in eternal cabaret. She offered them the same fate she’d embraced: a second act in the afterlife.
Now bound by a thirst for glam, gore, and green-tinged immortality, her closest sisters roam the Earth once more, dripping with style, bathed in moonlight, and ready to kill (or at least slay).
They aren’t her backup dancers anymore… they’re her army. “They don’t sleep. They don’t age. And they never dim their shine. The Glampires are undead showgirls with a thirst for the spotlight, and something a little warmer.
Once queens of the cabaret, now they strut through eternity in blood-red lips and razor heels, with hearts iced in diamonds and skin green with envy. In Vegas, the dead don’t rest… they headline. GLAMOUR NEVER DIES!”.
MAA SHETTY BETTY
The Blonde Blade • Henchwoman of the Countess • Glampire Enforcer
Before she was Maa Shetty Betty, she was the sharpest act on the cabaret circuit, a knife-throwing blonde bombshell with a wicked laugh and a mean aim. Part circus sideshow, part backstage menace, Betty didn’t just steal scenes… she skewered them.
But danger is a double-edged act. When the Countess summoned her from the depths of a sleepless dream in 1957, Betty answered, blade in hand, heels clicking, never missing a beat. Now, she stalks the desert with a throat slit wide and stitched shut, her crimson gloves forever stained with secrets and sin.
She’s no longer just the warm-up act, she’s the last thing you’ll see before the lights go out.
“Don’t blink, baby. I’m faster than your last bad decision.”
COCO DA MOLL
The Black Widow • Gangster’s Sweetheart • Glampire Siren
She was the original OG femme fatale, a real New York knockout with a getaway grin and a taste for danger. They called her the gangster’s moll, but Coco never belonged to anyone. She knew how to take the pain of monotony away. Coco came to Vegas to steal hearts and poker chips, but the Countess stole hers first. Now Coco da Moll stalks the strip in killer heels, silk gloves, and a smile that’ll ruin your afterlife and steal your soul.
“Tell your wife I said thanks for the ring.”
DAME VOODOO LA BOO
The Bone Reader • Queen of the Curse • Glampire Mystic
She left the stages of New Orleans with a prediction in her bones, that Vegas would introduce her to Lady Luck and neon lights. The bones were wrong. What she found instead was a red-lipped vampire with a thirst for talent… and a taste for vengeance. Now the Countess’s personal mystic, Boo dances in circles, whispers to the dead, and always knows when trouble’s coming. Spoiler: it always is.
“I don’t read palms, sugar. I read endings.”
MISTRESS MAE HEMME
The Velvet Vamp • Seamstress to the Undead • Glampire Glamourista
Once the glittering jewel of the speakeasy stage, Mae Hemme stitched her name into legend with every silk hem and silver bead. A soft-spoken flapper with sharp fangs and sharper fashion sense, she could mend your dress or your destiny… for a price. When the Countess summoned her in 1957, Mae answered with a suitcase full of sequins and secrets. Now she threads the veil between worlds, tailoring the Ghoul Gang’s look and ensuring death never goes out of style.
“Darling, eternity is no excuse for looking drab.”
Once stars, now they only come out at night. They’ve got blood on their corsets, secrets in their stilettos, and your name on their lips. All bite, no stage fright. They never age, they never sleep, and they NEVER share the mirror.
Showgirls step aside, now Las Vegas nights belong to the Glampires!
