by Mac Flynn
I snorted and shrugged. "How should I know? I'm not a vampire hunter, but I'll bet my mother's famous pot roast recipe that he can't come in without an invite. We'll just forget to give him an R.S.V.P. for tonight's sleepover and keep our blood to ourselves."
He smiled and shook his head. "You have the funniest sense of humor, Misty. I don't know how you can crack a joke with a vampire out there."
"It's a defense mechanism. It's either cracking jokes or panicking. I prefer the jokes because it calms people down enough so they can sleep which is what you should be doing," I ordered him.
Charlie set his head down on a couch pillow and closed his eyes. "Yes, ma'am," he replied. His weary voice soon slipped into the regular, monotonous sounds of snoring. The big boy really was exhausted.
I sat in the living room for an hour before I couldn't take the orchestra that emitted from Charlie's nose. After a thorough check of the windows I crept into my bedroom with a dining table chair in my hands. I wasn't planning on sleeping. Instead I would watch my bedroom window for any signs of our uninvited guest. I plopped the chair five yards from the window and plopped my tush on the seat.
I didn't have to wait long before I noticed something float toward the window. The floating fang-boy was back, and he'd brought something with him. I jumped to my feet and opened my mouth to call for Charlie, but then I saw what he held.
The bloody vampire had a bunch of flash cards in his hand and he held them out for me to read. There went the theory that vampires were telepathic. The writing was big and there was only a single word on each of the faces, but the flashcards were small. I grabbed the back of my chair and, keeping that between me and the window, crept over to my window to read them.
"Please. Let. Me. In," I read the words aloud as he changed the cards. I snorted. "Hell no. The blood bank is closed for the night," I told him. He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the opposite side of the flashcards, then presented them to me again. "I. Only. Wish. To. Talk. Believe me, we have nothing in common," I assured him. He was undeterred, as I noticed by his smile, and he worked his pen magic on a new set of flashcards which he procured from his coat. More reading. I felt like I was back in kindergarten. "I. Mean. You. No. Harm. But. I. Will. Leave. That would be best," I agreed.
The vampire dropped his cards on the ground and floated backwards. I hurried over to the window to see where he flew, but he disappeared into the shadows of the night. The only thing that remained of his visit were the flashcards on the yard around the apartment building. Litterbug. Didn't his vampire master teach him not to leave trash on the ground?
I sat down on my bed with the chair at my side. "Only want to talk," I repeated. I scoffed. "Yeah, right."
A small voice in the back of my mind couldn't help but wonder if that's really all he wanted.
CHAPTER 3
I remained awake until dawn, but nothing else happened. As soon as the sun rose I snuck outside and gathered the flashcards. No sense confusing the apartment manager with these things, and my sanity wanted evidence that it had really happened. Charlie woke up at around eight looking a lot better. We ate a late breakfast and I related what happened after he fell asleep. I even showed him the flashcards.
He flipped through them and shook his head. "I'm really sorry I got you into this mess, Misty," he apologized.
I shrugged. "No harm done, and I can say I met a vampire. Well, just as long as I'm not saying it to a shrink," I replied.
"But you could have been killed, or worse," he objected.
"I could have, but I've got all my blood intact and so do you, so what are you going to do now?" I asked him.
Charlie tossed the cards onto the table. "I'll keep away from the area and hope he follows me. Maybe he'll get bored and go to another state," he told me.
"Just don't lose too much sleep over it," I teased.
He smiled. "If I do I know where I can go for a nice, comfortable couch," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but if you stay around long enough I'm going to start charging you rent," I returned.
"I'll risk it," he chuckled.
Charlie left soon after breakfast, and I prepared myself for some well-earned sleep. As I lay my head upon my pillow I couldn't help but realize my hours were much like those of a vampire. Maybe we did have a few things in common.
I awoke just after sunset and rose from my coffin-er, bed for my shift at the diner. All was quiet on the window front as I dressed, ate some dinner and took the long drive to the lonely business. I was surprised to see there weren't any trucks out front, but my question was answered by Candy.
"The bridges are washed out up ahead. It was that dang storm last night that did it," she told me as she put on her coat. "Business has been slow all day because of it, and there's been nothing since the sun went down."
"So does that mean I can go home?" I asked her.
"Not a chance," came the voice of Ralph from the kitchen. He poked his balding head out the double swinging doors that led to the kitchen. "Yer staying here until yer shift is over."
"Yes, sir," I sighed, and got to scrubbing the counters clean of dust particles.
It was a long, slow night. At around midnight Ralph's snores marched through the swinging doors and nearly drowned out my thoughts. I was almost asleep myself behind the cash register when the bell above the door chimed the entrance of a customer. My hand slid out from my chin and I face-planted into the counter. I whipped my head up and smiled at the customer, hoping my nose didn't dribble blood.
Thank god it didn't because standing in front of me was the vampire. My eyes bulged out my head and I opened my mouth to scream, but he caught me with his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes were like crystals that glowed in the dark. None of the blood-red stuff this night. He seated himself on one of the stools in front of me and glanced behind me at the drink machines.
"How's the coffee?" he asked me.
The normal question snapped me out of my funk, but I couldn't manage the scream that vibrated in my throat aching to be heard. If I couldn't fight him off with my girlish power to break glass then I'd fight him with my wits, if only I could keep them about me.
"It's not bad, but the only thing left is the bottom of the pot and at that point it takes on a life of its own," I warned him.
He smiled. His teeth were just a little too long. "Then I'll take a cup. I could use a little life in me," he returned. The color drained from my face. "Something wrong? You seem nervous," he teased.
"You just remind me of someone I met last night, that's all," I told him.
"What was his name?" he asked me.
"I didn't catch his name. He wasn't really welcomed, so he left," I explained.
"The man must have had a good reason to leave behind such a beautiful woman," he commented.
"Maybe it was the man I was with," I replied.
"Boyfriend?" he wondered.
I turned away to fetch the coffee, but kept an eye on him over my shoulder. "No, I was just babysitting him. Something scared him a few nights ago and his night light wasn't up to the job," I replied.
"Really? The same man that ran away from you was scared by a man who was scared by another man?" he teased.
"I'm not sure it was a man I saw, or he saw," I mused. I turned toward him and froze. The man looked at me with an intense gaze. His eyes beckoned to me and I felt myself falling into them.
He smiled and the spell was broken. I gasped and stumbled back against the counter behind me. The man chuckled. "I frighten you, don't I?" he asked me.
My pride as a truck-stop waitress bristled at the mocking note in his tone. "No, and do you know why?"
The man leaned over the counter and smiled at me. He was handsome, and under other circumstances I would have fallen like a fan girl for his boyish good looks. Unfortunately, he had unusually long teeth and that made him a member of the Undead, an elite club I had no intention of joining.
"No, why?" he asked me.
"Because of this." I threw th
e coffee mug with its searing drink in his face and raced for the door to the kitchen. You would have thought from his scream that the secret ingredient in our coffee was holy water and not lard. That, or maybe it was the searing heat from cooking all day in the pot.
I flew through the twin hanging doors and woke up Ralph from his beauty sleep. It was a pity, the bedraggled old man needed about a decade more to improve his wrinkled face and thin white hair. He jumped from his chair and whipped his head to and fro. "Wha? Huh?" he cried out.
"Vampire!" I yelled and ducked behind him.
"A what?" he yelped.
"Vampire!" I repeated. I grasped his shoulders and peeked out from behind his thin, short frame. No creature of the night flew through the twin doors and attacked us.
Ralph glared at me and shrugged off my clinging hands. "What in the world are ya yellin' about, woman?" he growled.
"A vampire was out there! He ordered coffee and-"
Ralph snorted. "Vampires don't drink coffee, and what are ya doing givin' him that stuff? Didn't Candy tell ya I spilled some garlic powder into it earlier and it weren't fit for an animal to drink?" he asked me.
"Well, he ordered some and then I caught him off guard by throwing a mug of coffee in his face. He hissed and screamed like it was-well, full of garlic powder," I explained.
Ralph glared at me. "Ya threw coffee in another customer's face because he got sweet on ya, didn't ya?" he growled.
I scowled back at him. "There was a vampire in there. He had dark eyes and sharp teeth and everything," I insisted.
"Ah don't care what excuses. Ya just ran in here to get out of apologizin'. Now ya just get in there and say yer sorry, and give the man a free cup of coffee," Ralph ordered me.
"But-"
"No buts, now get out there." He grabbed my arms and pushed me gently but firmly to the twin doors. "Now git! Go on!"
I swung around and balled my hands into fists at my sides. "Fine, but if I become a vampire than you're going to be my first victim, and when I'm through with you then I'll stake you myself," I warned him.
He cracked a bony finger at the doors. "Just git out there," he told me.
I spun around and marched to my fate. All I found for my brave words were an empty stool, a broken coffee mug, and the sticky drink all over the floor and counter. No vampire, and no tip. I admit I didn't deserve the tip, and I was glad to not have him there for me to ask for it. The doors behind me swung open and Ralph leaned against the doorway. "Yer vampire skimp out on his bill?" he teased.
"Yeah, but I'm not complaining," I replied.
Ralph slipped back into his grease-covered sanctuary. I was left alone to clean up the coffee and glance furtively over my shoulder every two seconds. My waitress-senses told me something was amiss in my diner domain, but I couldn't pin it down to any single problem. Maybe it was the dusty bunnies beneath the tables, or the crumbs encrusted in the seats. Or maybe it was the envelope tucked between the cash register and the salt-and-pepper shakers. I picked it up and saw my name on the back written in old-fashioned handwriting.
My curiosity told me there was nothing to lose from reading a letter, even if it was from a vampire. I opened the envelope and found not a letter, but a small slip of paper. On the paper was an address. I vaguely recognized it as a road outside of town that led to the middle of nowhere. There were a few farmhouses and an old barn here and there.
I pocketed the address and was going to toss aside the envelop, but something heavy slid along the bottom. I tipped the envelope over and a small metal key dropped into my hand. It was old and rusted like one of those keys you'd find in haunted houses. A skeleton key. I gulped for dramatic effect.
"Ah don't hear any cleaning out there," Ralph growled from the back.
I rolled my eyes and put the key in my pocket beside the paper. "That's because I'm done," I bit back.
"Then git to cleaning the rest of the place. We'll close up early tonight," he shouted.
I sighed and got to scrubbing the place so the grease shined. All the while I thought about the paper and key that jiggled in my pocket. There was a chance, a big chance, that this was a trap set by the handsome undead. That, or he was too cheap to leave a tip and thought wasting my time driving along a dusty dirt road would be hilarious. Either way I couldn't be sure of anything unless I took a look out there.
CHAPTER 4
I got off work and drove home for a nap until the sun rose. If this was a trap I wasn't going to be caught in the middle of the night. When the sun was good and strong I got up and prepared for the journey. I made a cross out of a pair of silver forks I inherited from my grandmother, and stuffed a small spice container of garlic powder into my pocket. That seemed to work last night.
I took my truck and bumped my way along the country roads. Fields of yellow wheat surrounded me on all sides, and far off in the distance was a small patch of woods filled with sinewy aspen and thick willows. I knew a stream gurgled through there and fed the plants and wild beasts that ate up the wheat fields.
I passed a few scattered farmhouses, but there was no sign of anyone, living or undead. Google Maps and I miscalculated this drive, and after a half dozen wrong turns the morning was now mid-afternoon. I finally reached the road at two. The way was long, dusty, and little used, more like two empty trails among the weeds than a road. I slowed the car and crawled the four tires through the dust with my eyes looking out for a sign of a building or loose coffin.
The trail led to the clump of trees, but at that point my 'road' narrowed to nothing more than a path full of dead leaves and sticks. I stopped the car and stepped out. There wasn't any sign of a house or barn, just the sinewy trees and the brush that grew against their trunks.
I pulled out the slip with the address and read the road name again. This was the right road, but there was nothing here. I looked up from the paper and peered into the shadows of the woods. "Hello?" I shouted.
I jumped a foot in the air when a flock of quail flew from the brush. They rose into the air and sat themselves on the branches of the trees. Their calls informed me of their indignation at being disturbed. I stuck my tongue at them and focused on the trail again. There were two options in front of me. One was to follow the rules of every horror movie and go into those woods, and the other was to turn around and drive off as if I was being chased by all those things in those horror movies.
I decided I was a little smarter than the average horror-movie victim and if trouble came my way I wouldn't imitate the Blair Witch project. If there was going to be any running it was going to be directly for my car at a speed slightly below breaking the sound barrier. I crunched my way into the woods while keeping one eye on my car in case it decided to leave without me. The canopy of the trees cast their shadows on the ground, and more than once I considered turning tail and running.
I had just about made my mind up to do just that when, at the one hundred foot mark, I spotted something through the trees and around a corner in the path. It looked to be an abandoned farmhouse, one of those that was perfect for all occasions like frat parties and vampire hangouts. I reluctantly carried on and my car disappeared from view. After another twenty yards I found myself standing in front of the farmhouse. The building was two stories tall with a covered porch on the front that sagged worse than an old woman. Shutters hung precariously from the windows like loose false eyelashes. The roof sagged, the paint peeled, and I consulted my mental index to remember when was my last tetanus shot.
I couldn't remember, but I forded on anyway. The steps leading up to the porch creaked like they were in desperate need of oil, and they bent beneath my weight. I scurried across the boards and to the closed door. Of all the rotten boards and termite condos on the house this was in the best condition. It even had a working knob that I grasped and tried to turn. Locked, but I noticed there was a keyhole in the knob. I pulled out the key from the envelope and inserted said key into the mechanism.
One quick turn and I heard the door un
lock. The working key confirmed I was in the right place, and I pushed it open. The door swung inward and revealed a long hallway that led to the back of the house. On one side of the hallway was the stairs leading to the second floor, and on either side were rooms. The windows were boarded up so only slits of light shone on the dusty, leaf-strewn floors.
Before I trapped myself inside I took the key and pocketed it. No sense having the door slam behind me locking me inside. As much as I could make an exit through the broken windows, I had a feeling I wouldn't be walking away from that many cuts. More likely I'd be on the porch or ground whimpering and bleeding all over the place waiting for the vampire to wake up and finish the job I'd started.
I stepped into the hall and glanced to the left and right. Dining room and living room. The dining room was occupied by spiderwebs, and the living room was now the un-living room. That is, if I was going to believe the coffin-shaped box on the floor. I clutched at my heart worrying that the beating organ would leave the premises without me. Fortunately it stayed put, but my curiosity told my legs to take a closer look. I crept up on the wooden box with its dark shine. Old cherry, by the look of it. Very elegant. Must have cost a fortune. I stopped a foot from the expensive bed box and looked for a way to open the coffin. It looked as simple as opening the lid.
My eyes caught on the coffee table that sat beyond the coffin. On its dusty top lay a simple wooden box six inches square. I felt as though I was mesmerized by the small chest, so mesmerized that I bypassed the coffin and stepped up to the coffee table. Etched into the wood of the box were depictions of wolves, woods, and people with sharp, pointy teeth flitting through the shadows of the trees. I leaned down and gave a tap on the lid, then jumped back. Nothing happened. The thing wouldn't be trapping this booby.
I picked up the box and turned it over in my hands. Nice craftsmanship, creepy carvings, of apparently ancient make. Yep, it belonged to the vampire. I looked at the front and saw there was a small lock that kept the lid closed. That recalled the tiny key I'd used to get inside the house. I tried that, but nope. Wouldn't even fit into that small a hole.
