Vampire Soul Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  "Great, a vampire smart enough to lock himself inside his coffin," I murmured. My heart stopped beating when I heard a faint chuckle come from the coffin.

  Time to leave.

  I snatched up the box on my panicked way through and flew out the front door onto the leaf-strewn, non-existent yard. The last of the sunlight led me back to the car, and I tore out of there and back to civilization with my prize in the passenger seat.

  I returned to my apartment after sunset and was glad it was my night off. My adrenaline was gone and all I wanted to do was collapse face-first into the couch. Unfortunately, there were chores to attend to. The first was my setting the strange box on my coffee table, and the second was sniffing the air. The garbage smelled like somebody had died in it, and I was fed up with death, undead or not. I grabbed the bag, dragged it to the door, and swung open the entrance.

  The bag dropped from my hand when I beheld the vampire standing just shy of the threshold of my apartment.

  He smiled and bowed his head to me. "Good evening,"

  "It was." I slammed door and stumbled over the garbage bag away from entrance. He'd come to take his revenge on my stealing his wooden box. There came a knocking on my chamber-er, apartment door. "Nobody's home," I called out.

  "Please open the door. I'm not asking to be let in," he replied through the door.

  That was the final straw. He'd been a thorn in my side for these past couple of days culminating in this insult on my person. I wasn't going to take this bullshit. I scowled, pushed aside the garbage back with my foot, and flung open the door. He smiled at me and I tried to melt his face off with my glare.

  "How dumb do you think I am? You think if you bother me long enough I'm going to-"

  A door at the end of the hall opened and a rough-looking man stuck his head out. "Shut it up!" my neighbor yelled at us.

  I pointed at the vampire. "Shut it up? I'm trying to get a vampire out of our apartment building!" I countered.

  "I don't care if he's Elvis, just shut it up," the man growled, and slammed the door.

  I whipped my head back to my uninvited guest and glared at him. "Do you mind leaving? I'm not in the mood to make a blood donation," I hissed.

  "I only wish to speak with you," he persisted.

  "You really think I'm just going to say 'please do come in' and-" The vampire side-stepped around me and into my apartment. My mouth dropped open and I pointed at the hall. "I was not being serious, so get out!"

  He smiled and shook his head. "An invitation is an invitation, and to revoke it is very bad manners." He pulled me from the doorway and pushed the door closed. The latch made an ominous clicking sound when it shut.

  I squirmed out of his grasp and rushed to the other side of the couch. When I looked at the door I found him staring at me. I waved my hand at the door. "Get out! Shoo!"

  "I will leave when I have made my request," he replied. He strode over and seated himself on the couch.

  "This isn't a bat hotel and I'm not interested in your request, so get!" I insisted.

  He nodded at the container on my coffee table. "Don't you wish to know what's in that box?" he countered.

  "What I wish to know is how to get you out!" I snapped.

  "It's very important to me. I thought perhaps your trucker friend Charlie would hold it, but he was much more frightened of me then I expected," he commented. He glanced over me with those dark eyes and I stepped back while clutching my neck with both hands. "You, however, don't seem very frightened of me at all. Why is that?"

  "Because I can scream a lot louder than Charlie," I quipped.

  He chuckled. "I think it's because you know I won't hurt you," he argued.

  "And I think you thinking that I'm thinking you're not going to hurt me is wishful thinking, but let's stay on the topic of you leaving," I replied.

  "I'd rather stay on the topic of you." Great, the only man in the world who wanted to talk about me wasn't really a man. The vampire patted the cushion beside him. "Won't you sit down?" he invited me.

  "Won't you please leave?" I practically begged him.

  He sighed, but stood. "If that is what you truly wish," he replied.

  "That's what I've been saying for the last five minutes," I reminded him.

  "Then I will go." He strode over to the door and grasped the knob, but paused and glanced over his shoulder. There was a dark look in his eyes that reminded me I was a virile young woman. "I think I must warn you that others of my kind may come looking for that box. Keep it safe for me, will you?" He opened the door, stepped out and paused to glance over his shoulder. "Oh, and don't open it. You don't want to find out what's inside," he warned me. Then he shut the door behind himself.

  It took my mind a few seconds to process what he said to me. The box. Others of his kind. Looking for it. Oh shit. I grabbed the box like it was a hot potato and raced to the entrance. I flung open the door and looked into the hall to toss the accursed box at him.

  The damn vampire was gone. Just when I wanted him around he left. Just like a man. I looked down at the box in my hands. There was still the idea of tossing it out, but now I had the feeling whatever was inside this thing was pretty important. If I tossed it out and the 'others of his kind' were to come looking for it and be told I decided to turn it into fertilizer at the town dump they'd be a little mad. They might even have me go look for it at said dump.

  That decided it. I'd keep the box and if someone did come asking for it they could have it. I stepped back inside and closed the door. That's when Plan V came to mind. Tomorrow afternoon I'd return this box to its owner, key and all. I didn't want it, didn't need it, and didn't care what the vampire said about my keeping it safe. He could keep his own box safe and leave me out of this messy vampire business.

  CHAPTER 5

  I stood over the creepy box on the coffee table and was just pondering if I needed to wear a scarf to bed when there came a knock on the door. I turned and frowned at said door hoping my Evil Eye would scare whoever it was away. There came another knock. I needed to work on that Evil Eye.

  I walked over and peeked through the peephole. Nobody was there. I yelped and jumped back when there came another knock on the door. I hadn't seen a hand make the noise. There was only one way to find out if I was hearing things. I reached out a shaking hand and grasped the knob. There was another knock and I yanked open the door.

  Standing in the doorway was a beautiful little girl. She looked about ten with curly blond hair and pretty blue eyes. The girl was dressed in a frilly pink dress that reached to the ground, complete with pink bow in her hair. She gave me a smile so sweet I winced from the cavities popping up in my mouth. Even her voice was soft and as sticky as chewed bubblegum.

  "Hello. I was looking for my daddy. Have you seen him?" she asked me. She wasn't any of the tenants I'd ever seen, and most of them didn't have class enough to wear clothes, much less ones as nice as hers.

  "Um, I'm not really sure. What's your daddy look like?" I wondered.

  "He's a dark man with dark hair and dark clothes," she replied. She peeked around me into my apartment and her eyes lit up. She pointed a stiff finger at something behind me. "That's my daddy's box!"

  I turned to see what she was referring and never doubted for a second it was the creepy box. Sure enough her finger pointed at the box on the coffee table. I turned back to her and raised an eyebrow. "So you're daddy is the creepy guy in black?" I asked her.

  She grinned and gave a nod. "Yep!"

  I looked her up and down. Pinky here was either a bad liar or took after her mother because I couldn't see any resemblance between the owner of the box and her. "So what's your daddy's name?" I wondered.

  "It's Roland, and he's a little funny. Sometimes he thinks he's a vampire, and he leaves Mommy and me for a few days and hides in a coffin. Mommy says there's something wrong with him," she replied. Her red lips slipped into a morose frown and she tapped on her temple to show where the problem lay. The next moment she was br
ight and chipper again. "Can I have his box so I can take it to him? Daddy thinks it's something special, and he might come home if he thinks I have it," she pleaded.

  Here was my chance to get rid of the box. If this Roland guy wanted it back he could fight his family over it. "Yeah, sure," I agreed. I walked over to the box, grasped it in my hands, and turned to find the little girl still stood just outside the doorway. "Is something wrong?" I asked her.

  She shook her curly head. "Nope."

  My waitress senses told me something was amiss. The vampire's warning echoed through my head. I smiled at the girl and held the box in front of me so she could easily grab it. "Here it is," I told her.

  The little girl glanced nervously at my apartment. "I-I don't think I should," she argued.

  "Shouldn't, or can't?" I mused.

  The girl blinked at me and tilted her head to one side. Her adorable factor rose by one cuteness point which was equal to a whole room full of teddy bears. "Can't?" she repeated.

  Okay, I wasn't buying this Shirley Temple act any longer. Something wasn't right about a girl dressed head-to-toe in pink and wandering around at this hour in my neighborhood. I plopped the box back on the counter, crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her.

  "All right, cut the act. What the hell are you and what do you want?" I questioned her.

  She dropped the act like a rookie catcher drops balls. Her pleasant face twisted into a terrible scowl and her eyes changed from blue to black. The curls in her hair grew limp and her voice changed from sickly sweet to buxom bar maid.

  "What I am is none of your concern, but I'm doing you a favor by taking that box off your hands," she told me.

  "Uh-huh, and how do I know you won't take what you want and come back later for a drink on me?" I countered.

  She shrugged and leaned against the exterior part of the door frame. "You don't, but do you really want to keep that box around? It's dangerous," she warned me.

  "Not as dangerous as a vampire," I argued.

  The girl chuckled, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. Her laugh had a tinge of tainted innocence, like a puppy who would maul off your hand. "Why don't you just hand it over? We both know you don't want to keep it, and you don't even know why Roland left it with you," she pointed out.

  "Because he didn't want to leave it with you," I quipped.

  "Come on, you know you want to give it to me," she cooed. Her voice sounded like the sweet song of a nightingale twittering on its branch. A faint cloud slipped into my head and I recognized the the effects of mesmerism like what Roland had done to me to keep me from screaming the first night we met at my window. I found myself slipping deeper into obedience as her words drolled on. "Just imagine handing it to me and letting all that worry slip off your shoulders. You won't have to-"

  Good thing I still had that bottle of garlic powder in my pocket. I whipped it out, popped off the lid, and intended to throw it at the cute little vampire, but her eyes narrowed and caught mine in their dark depths. I couldn't throw it. My arm just wouldn't lob that sucker at the bloodsucker. My quick-thinking and strange mind came up with another possible solution. If I couldn't lob the container I could try a different route. I jammed my nose into the container.

  The smell of garlic invaded my nose and I flew into a sneezing fit that broke the spell of the vampire. It probably also helped that I wasn't really a fan of garlic myself. I fell onto the couch feeling like my nose was going to explode, but I was free from the vampire.

  The little dark princess of the night wasn't thrilled to have her spell broken. She slammed her foot against the floor and I swear I heard a crunch of wood. "Let me in!" she shrieked.

  My sneezing slowed and I ducked behind the couch so she couldn't catch my eyes. I lobbed the garlic container over the back of the couch toward the door and heard her scream in terror. There wasn't a peep of anything after that. I waited ten seconds before I peeked over the back of the couch. The doorway was empty of everything except my garlic container on the ground and door frame. Not a bad throw for doing it blind. I slid around the couch to the entrance and slammed the door.

  I leaned my back against it and slid down to the floor. "What have you gotten yourself into now?" I muttered to myself.

  My eyes fell on the box that sat on the counter. I scowled at it, climbed to my feet and marched over to the troublesome three-dimensional square. This lump of wood and metal was causing me a hell of a headache, and I didn't even know what was inside. A mischievous grin slipped onto my lips. An aspirin would handle the headache, and a screwdriver would satisfy my curiosity.

  CHAPTER 6

  An hour later I decided I needed more aspirin and a better screwdriver. The lock on the box was sealed like a mummy's tomb minus the whole curse business. At least I hoped there wasn't a curse on the box.

  I stopped my picking and leaned back to get a look at my handiwork. There wasn't so much as a scratch on the lock, but my screwdriver looked like it'd been trying to peck away at solid steel. The poor thing's nose was more out of joint than Ralph on a bad night, not that there were any good nights with him, or even from him.

  I looked at my watch and sighed. It was forty-five minutes after I should have given up. I stood and gave the box a good kick to let off some steam. Turns out the box had some steam to let out, too. White mist blew out from beneath the lid and spilled onto the floor.

  "Whoa!" I yelped and hopped back.

  My imitation of the Easter Bunny saved my tail, or in this case my toes. The mist blew over my floor and the rug on top of that, and ate through both of them like a pack of starved piranhas with a taste for cloth and vinyl. The crispy edges of the mist's reach boiled like acid and smelled like a dead animal that was ripe enough for a vulture. The mist slipped back into the box, but my floor didn't stop bubbling like some chemistry experiment gone wrong.

  I left the box where it sat. I liked behind able to count to ten without using my toes. I sat back on the couch and glared at the box.

  "Your owner better pay for the damages or the manager's going to have my hide," I scolded the box. It sat there like an innocent box, but I knew better.

  After ten minutes the bubbles stopped bubbling. I leaned over the box and inspected the damage. I couldn't wave to my neighbors below me, but a few more inches and they would've had a funny skylight. I left the box and went to bed. Maybe I'd wake up and find this was all some sick joke by the trucker guys. Maybe Charlie had rigged the whole thing with a friend of his.

  "And maybe I'd wake up to a million dollars in cash on my doorstep. . ." I muttered.

  Yeah, even I didn't believe the guys could pull off a prank this complicated. I'd seen their style of tricks, and most of it consisted of dunking a guy's head in a toilet. Something did smell fishy here, but it didn't come from a restroom. Most of it came from that small girl with her gagging adorableness. A voice in my head told me I hadn't seen the last of her.

  I got into bed and laid over, but sleep didn't come. Having a possessed box in the living room with a penchant for pyrotechnics meant counting sheep wasn't going to work, not that night. I lay awake half the night thinking about that damn box and its damned owner. He was more trouble than he was worth, and considering he was a vampire he was worth a lot to the scientific community. Whatever the reason I needed to protect that box, short of saving the world, I wasn't going for it.

  I rolled over and sighed. "Come sunup, the box goes back to his coffin. . ." I murmured.

  That calming thought finally got me to sleep. I woke up later that day and sat up in bed. A thick clump of hair hung in front of my face, and I brushed it aside and glanced at the clock on my nightstand. My mouth dropped open. Four o'clock. I had an hour to get that box back to its owner before the owner woke up and refused service. Worse yet, I had to get to work in that same hour.

  I jumped out of bed and opened my closet to grab one of my diner outfits. The closet was empty, but there was a stack of dirty clothes in the laundry basket. In all the
excitement of vampires, scary little girls and terrifying boxes I'd forgotten to do the laundry.

  "First thing when I get back," I promised my dirty clothes as I grabbed one of their own from the basket.

  The apron was grease-stained and the skirt was wrinkled, but I'd iron some of it out with my butt. That was all anyone ever looked at, anyway. I slipped into the outfit and raced through the bedroom door only to confront my old enemy, the box. It sat where I'd left it on the floor surrounded by its burn victims, my floor and rug.

  That thing had to wait just a few minutes. I lunged for my fridge and pulled out something I'd been saving for soup: garlic. They were pathetic little bulbs barely worthy of the name, but I strung them on some dental floss from the bathroom and in a moment they were my dearest friends. No vampire would dare attack me with a necklace made of garlic.

  I slipped that over my neck and hid it beneath my white blouse. Then I tiptoed over to the box and leaned towards the thing. It didn't move. I gave it a tap with my finger and jumped back. There was no sign of the acid fog.

  There was also not much time. I snatched the box and raced to the door. I swung it open and ran into someone standing just outside. We tumbled into the hall and crashed into the door opposite mine. I ended up with my face buried in a suit jacket and one of the pointy corners of the box stuck into my gut.

  I pushed off from my visitor and smiled. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-" Wow. This guy was a looker.

  I'm not talking about some cute guy you see on the street. This guy belonged in one of those model magazines, the ones with weight-loss ads and promises to make any teenage girl into a sexy cougar kitten in ten easy steps. He had short, perfect blond hair swept back to show off a perfectly sculptured forehead. His perfect blue suit was wrinkle-free after our collision, and his black shoes were so clean I could see my reflection. He wore thick-framed black glasses in front of his sparking green eyes and had a smile that would've made Candy's knees shake so bad you could've heard the water splash. The only thing that messed up his perfect face was his hand. His nostrils flared like a bull and he slipped his hand over his face. I couldn't blame him, not when I walked around like an Italian pizza.