Instead, I typed ‘Vampire’ in my search bar and watched as the results began to load, and load, and keep scrolling down the page. I read the rest of the night, the myths and fallacies, well-reasoned arguments from researchers who were adamant there was such a creature. A couple of lurid erotic short stories. I read about all the places they could feed, including the inside of the thigh, the nipple-The nipple, which is considered a delicacy to some vampires….I read, shaking my head at the text. My poor nipple gave a corresponding twinge and I rubbed it absently.
Abruptly, my entire perimeter lit up like the Fourth of July as a huge owl soared up, sailing regally over the shed holding the generator for the house and back again, landing on the railing close to my window, shaking its feathers and settling itself. I sucked in a breath as its head turned abruptly, seemingly looking right in the window and at me.
I waved awkwardly. “Hey.”
When my feathery sentinel didn’t move, I went back to my monitor, sneaking glances every few moments. “So, I have to question if I’m losing it again,” I announced, not sure if I was talking to the owl or myself. “If lumberjack handyman Steve is a vampire and he’s been feeding on me like a human smoothie, then … wait. So, am I crazy for believing he’s a bloodsucker instead of just the resort handyman? What is wrong with me?” I buried my head in my hands and sighed. When I looked up again, the owl was gone. Slowly, I typed in ‘how to block vampires from your house.’
“An invitation is a magical weakness from the original vampire tales that prevents vampiric beings from entering a dwelling without permission from the occupant. Once permission has been given, it cannot be rescinded without following the ritual to…”
By the time I looked out the window again, I could barely keep my eyes open and the sun was high over the pines outside. Dragging myself upstairs, I took a shower before falling instantly asleep.
Chapter 5: I Revoke My Invitation
In which Aura finds that the mail does not always bring welcome news.
Ahot shower, enough coffee to make my heart tap-dance on my ribs and a clear blue sky the next day made me hum a little as I walked out on the porch to see a mail truck driving away.
“Maybe my phone’s come early?” I skipped down the stairs, feeling unreasonably cheerful and optimistic.
Opening the mailbox, I pulled out a small, square box with my pharmacy’s logo in the return slot. “Oh, good,” I mumbled, remembering the last time I got behind on my anxiety meds and antidepressants. Still, one day I hoped to start tapering down, maybe. I felt confused on these meds and really fuzzy sometimes.
“An unavoidable side effect,” my pharmacist had assured me. “It gets better.”
No phone, darn it, but there was a large manila envelope and I tucked it under my arm as I headed back to the cabin. Putting it next to the laptop, I checked my email, still humming a little as I had yet another cup of coffee. “Maybe it’s time to cut back on the brew,” I mused, “I can feel my teeth vibrating.”
Picking up the large envelope, I frowned a little when I realized it didn’t have postage on it or a return address.
“Oh, please…” I whispered. Opening the flap with surprisingly steady hands, I found a neatly written letter. Hand-written. He always wrote that way, saying it was more personal. And in that orderly text, he would list out the things he was going to do to me.
“You really think I wouldn’t find you? You ridiculous, foolish sow. I’ll take my time, now that you’re out here in the wild. No one hearing you scream and choke. I really should thank you for making it so easy for me.”
There were pictures, like always. One was of me running down the road, another where I was lounging on the big front porch with a book on my lap. Another one was clearly taken last night, outside the window where I was hunched over my laptop, the light shining down on me.
“I could have killed you at any time. You know that, don’t you?”
I dropped the pictures on the floor, pushing them away with my big toe. “H- how did he…” I barely made it to the kitchen sink to empty all that expensive coffee from my heaving stomach. Sitting on the floor, I forced myself to think.
Suspects.
“Think like you’re actually writing the damn book, Aura!” Pulling a marker off the counter above me, I made the list on the white tile floor.
Who wants to kill me?
Who knows where I am?
~James and his assistant
~Lumberjack Steve
~Weird Tesla Kevin
Who has enough access to me to take pictures?
~Lumberjack Steve
~Weird Tesla Kevin
After staring at the list again, I scuttled back to my laptop, trying to put in a call to James. I groaned when it went to voicemail.
