Play it safe, stay home

What will happen tomorrow will happen tomorrow and it will be tomorrow’s trouble. For now…

My dinner yaps in the next room. As I walk there, I pick up my phone and call dad. He does not answer. Good. I leave a message.

“Dad, I am sorry, I am feeling very sick and I’d rather stay home tonight. See you soon, love you!”

The border collier looks at me with terror as I close the door behind me.

***

Two hours later, I am sitting in my living room watching the late-night news on the local channel when a short segment attracts my attention.

The anchor on the screen – quite hot by the way – launches it bluntly asking:

“Is there a satanic cult in *Biiip*? All the answers after this commercial break.”

*Biiip* is my town and no, I will not be telling you where it is exactly.

What the fuck can she be bragging about?

After a good twenty minutes of senseless commercials for the upcoming black Friday, the news lady is back on my screen. I’ve eaten up all my finger nails. Good thing about being a vampire is that they tend to regrow really fast. None the less the wait has me at the edge of my seat.

“For the past three weeks there have been weird sightings around *Biiip*’s cemetery. Our reporter Dan Jones went to investigate for us.”

The image cuts to a small road near the cemetery, a middle-aged man is holding a mike in front of a girl.

“Thank you, Diane, this is Hellen, Hellen lives across from the Cemetery and she has seen many silhouettes coming in and out from the local cemetery for the last three weeks…”

The interview is completely uninteresting until the girl announces that she made a video. The image fades again to a grainy poorly lit homemade video, I am about to cut the TV and go have some fun with a new dildo I got yesterday when something makes me freeze. On the screen, I recognize my dead friend Mary sneaking out of the Cemetery…

The first thing that hits me is happiness! She survived!

Then I remember the last time I saw her, vampire's fangs digging in her neck, her eyes rolling back, her chest drawing her last breath and I think of my own situation – on my couch, watching TV, stuffing a large black dildo inside my guts and the worst thirst - and I realize that she did not, that it is likely that she actually came back as I did.

Shit!

I grab a pair of jumpers, slip into an old tank top and exit my flat. I have to find her.

Outside, it started snowing. The inside of my car is as cold as the outside. I turn the key in the ignition. The motor coughs once. Old piece of crap! I try again. Still nothing. Again… Cough, again, cough cough, again, cough. Shit, shit, shit!

And then somebody knocks on my window. Triple shit!

I turn around, Mr. Coma is standing by my car. Mr. Coma is my landlord, he is from some country across the ocean… I never cared to ask him… but more importantly I owe Mr. Coma two months rent. I know that usually in the movies you see guys that owe four or five months of back rent and the landlord cracks jokes about it, well this is not happening here, he already warned me, if I did not get him his rent by the end of the week, he would have me thrown out of my flat… and that was last week.

His intentions do not seem peaceful. I have the feeling that if I do not talk to him, if I do not find a solution to this rental issue, he might just change the keys to my flat and leave me stranded on the street…

I turn the key in the ignition one last time and, miracle, the engine starts.