by Mac Flynn
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 bright 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
