• “In other news today, the Comerica bank on Main Street was robbed. The two gunmen stole two million dollars and shot an officer on the way out. The two gunmen are now wanted by the Montana State Police. If you have any information about this case, call the number at the bottom of your screen. This is Mike Shortz with the five o’clock news, thanks for watching,” and with that, the television flickered off.
    “Our biggest heist yet!” snickered the thin, slender, and bald man counting piles of money.
    Lying next to him, his wife tossed and turned in the bed.
    “Remember, Marty: we must stay low. We bought this house in the middle of nowhere so we can wait until everyone forgets our heist, and then live our lives as normal people. Scratch that, rich people!” exclaimed Mary.
    “Did you hear that dear?” asked Marty as he jumped out of the bed.
    “Huh?”
    “I heard a noise. I think it came from the basement,” explained Marty.
    “You’re just like a kid, you know that?” complained Mary as she retrieved a broom from the pantry.
    “Do you think it’s an animal?” asked Marty
    “Maybe, considering we’re surrounded by woods,” said Mary, getting a little aggravated.
    She opened the door and began to tiptoe into the dark depths of the basement. As she descended the cold, gloomy steps, she could feel a sudden eerie sense around her. It told her something wasn’t quite right. Marty followed close on her tail, feeling the wall for a light switch. When he found it, the couple saw their basement for the first time.
    Mold covered the walls from the floor to the ceiling. Lights flickered, making the dungeon-like basement even spookier. The dungeon was basically a big empty square the size of a basketball court. The basement consisted of nothing but cobwebs, dust, and…a coffin. The latter seemed to interest Mary: she approached it slowly, gripping the broom handle even tighter now.
    The coffin stood flat against the wall and a symbol of the catholic cross was branded on the center of it. Mary’s hand trembled as it felt the coffin. To her surprise, it wasn’t dust-covered or worn out, or even old. She felt the cover with her hand, every inch of it, in amazement. Then, she began to slide to slide it off. There lied a pale, motionless body. At the sight of this, Mary covered her mouth with one hand and gasped. Seeing this cold, lifeless corpse brought back thoughts and memories that were now flashing into her mind. She thought of the cop…and the bullet from her gun piercing through his chest.
    When the cop fell to the ground, she stared down at him even though she knew everybody was watching her. Mary knelt down and felt his face, now cold and pale, and shed a tear or two-she had planned on robbery, but not murder. He stood in the way between Marty and herself and the get-away car…she thought she had no choice.
    While gazing down at this mysterious body in the coffin, she began to sob. Mary felt embarrassed so she turned her back to her husband, but he patted her back. How wonderful it is to be comforted, she thought. Marty didn’t know why Mary was crying, but he didn’t like seeing her sad.
    She placed her hand on the man’s face, but quickly pulled it away. Unexpectantly, it felt hot, almost as if the person had a fever-not ice cold, like a normal corpse. The man’s eyes shot open. Mary jumped and fell onto the floor in shock. The man sat up and stared at her like Romeo staring at Juliet.
    To her, his eyes seemed to sparkle, even though little light existed. His hair was strawberry-red and his figure could’ve struck anybody as an athlete. Mary smiled at the sight of him. He smiled back, but Mary didn’t like what she saw. Many of his big, white, teeth narrowed down to a point. This point looked so sharp and fine, she thought he filed or sharpened them. The two gazed into each other’s eyes for what seemed like forever.
    Then, the man bit his upper lip with his knife-like teeth. Blood slowly dripped from his lip; Mary’s eyes grew wide with fear. Mary could only think of self mutilation. She could find no other answer for what was happening to this man locked away in her basement and in a coffin. Next, the man took his pale pointer finger and swabbed the blood from his lip and put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes, as if he was enjoying the taste. His eyes shot open and an eerie grin appeared.
    “Alfred,” said the man simply.
    “What?” asked Marty, who was just broken by the man’s trance.
    “My name is Alfred. This…place has been my home for years. No…centuries,” explained the man
    “So you’re-,” started Mary.
    “Exactly, a vampire,” stated Alfred calmly.
    “Then where do you get the…bodies from? I mean, you drink blood to stay alive, don’t you?” asked Marty, now literally shaking in his boots.
    Alfred chuckled. He wiped his brow, and then smiled at Martin.
    “Let me ask you a question…”
    “The name’s Marty,” he said, now a little frustrated.
    “Marty, let me ask you a question. Where’s the previous owner of this house? What ever happened to him?” asked Alfred.
    “I heard he disappeared. Nobody’s seen him for a year. They cover the story on the news often. Quite a mystery I think,” Marty replied.
    Alfred’s smile grew from cheek to cheek as he said “well, then mystery solved” and pointed to the corner to the far left of them. The moment he pointed, Mary and Marty spun around as fast as a ballerina after five cans of Mountain Dew. But what they saw made their bodies crash, but their brain work a mile a minute. Mary looked down and gasped he stereotypical lady gasp, because at their feet was a horrid sight.
    It reminded Mary of the time she attended her mother’s funeral, except this corpse was a complete stranger to them both. He was fairly short and old; Mary guessed he was in his late seventies. His long grey hair was slicked back as if he was in some ort of Italian mob for senior citizens. He was equipped with suspenders over a red and grey plaid shirt, like and old Steve Urkel. His body was as pale white as when you leave the pool after a couple hours and your toes turn white. But what struck the couple the most, were the four small holes on the man’s neck. They were on filled with dried up blood and looked like a snakes fangs pierced him. But the marks were too spaced out from each other, almost like a human.
    “Can I ask you a question?” asked Marty.
    “You just did, but shoot anyway,” replied Alfred.
    “On the news, they said this man, Fred Burns, lived here for forty years, but you said you’ve lived here for centuries. Why did you just decide to kill him after thirty-nine years?” asked Marty.
    “First of all, I don’t like to refer to my methods as ‘killing’, but rather…keeping me alive. It’s survival of the fittest, natural selection-“
    “It’s the same thing! Murder is murder! Whether it’s keeping you alive or breaking the law!” shouted Mary, now crying.
    “Note to self: the hot girl is also a sensitive one,” Alfred humored to himself.
    Mary blushed as red as all the apples on the biggest apple tree combined. Alfred didn‘t know if this was out of anger or embarrassment.
    “Secondly, I like to think of the occupants of this house as a…host, as I am the parasite. But don’t be afraid, not directly. I make them a sort of an offer that they can’t refuse. If they don’t bring me a …uh, nutrition for me by noon each Friday, then I turn their neck into a geyser, squirting blood into my mouth like a school child at the drinking fountain! And, you my friends, are no exception,” ranted Alfred.
    Mary’s heart was beating faster than Forest Gump can run.
    “Wait! How did the cops not notice you when they searched the house for Fred?” wondered Marty.
    Alfred flashed his evil little grin and gently closed his eyes. He kept them closed for a minute or two- he seemed to be concentrating really hard. Curiously, the couple studied him until…he vanished. There’s no other way to put it, he just disappeared. Mary and Martin searched the basement, wall to wall, but no sign of him. Next, they heard his eerie little chuckle. The two of them turned around and there he was: the same place he was previously.
    “Invisibility!?” exclaimed Martin.
    “So you do catch on!” teased Alfred.
    “Well that still doesn’t explain how they didn’t spot the body!” challenged Martin.
    “You’re smarter than you look,” chuckled Alfred.
    At this, Alfred crouched down beside Fred’s body and placed his left hand on Fred’s forehead. The vampire shut his eyes and the pair of them vanished. But this time, Mary and Martin stayed stationary because a moment later, the vanishing pair reappeared at the very same spot at which they vanished.
    “Now that we have that cleared up, I suggest you hurry,” Suggested Alfred.
    “How do you expect us to get a stranger to volunteer r to die?” asked Mary.
    “Get creative,” replied Alfred. He closed his eyes and vanished.
    “Come back, you coward!” shouted Mary. The couple took a deep sigh together.
    “Well, it is Thursday night!” exclaimed Mary.

    Pacing is the one thing humans do constantly when nervous or bored, or in Mary and Martin’s case, a little of both. They watched television also, but glanced at the clock every minute. It was 11:00 AM and they haven’t seen a single person since their real estate agent. Mary didn’t even know if she wanted to go along with this “plan”. But then the door bell rang: something neither of them would ever expect.
    Mary’s thoughts were scrambled: was this some test of their morality from Alfred? Is it just a mere coincidence, with only an hour to spare? Maybe Alfred was karma for the robbery, but what is this now, reverse karma? The moment Mary opened the door; the pudgy, short, door-to-door sales-man started talking.
    “How many times has this happened to you: your carpet suddenly gets dirty the moment before company arrives? Well, do I have an interesting invention for you!?” ranted the salesman.
    A moment later, he retrieved a shiny, red vacuum cleaner from his van.
    “That just looks like an ordinary vacuum cleaner that I have in the closet!” said Mary.
    “I see Miss, but does yours have a nozzle to get hard-to-reach places?” asked an ambitious fat man.
    “Yes-I mean no. No, it does not,” Mary lied. “Follow me to the basement. I’d love to see its other features.”
    Mary opened the door to the basement, but let a tear slip. The salesman saw this and asked “is something wrong, ma’am?”
    “I’m just so excited about this vacuum!” she replied.
    “Ladies first,” offered the man.
    “No, I insist,” allowed Mary, motioning for him to lead the way. He did so and then Mar simply…pushed him. His vacuum in his hand, he rolled down the steps, like Jack before he broke his crown. Mary slammed the basement door and pounded her fist against it, sobbing. When her fit was over, she pressed her ear to the door to take a listen:
    “Oh my God! My foot! I-I think it’s broken. Is this about my sales pitch? I’m still working on it…wait. What’s that noise? Who are you?”
    A second, yet familiar voice announced “I am Death’s servant, sent here to do his work-“
    “How many times has this happened to-“
    “Let me ask you a question,” unlike Mary, Alfred read the salesman’s name badge, “Chuck, what color is that nice looking vacuum you’ve got there?”
    Chuck observed his bright red vacuum closely, assuming this was some sort of trick question.
    “Well, red, obviously,” stated Chuck. Alfred’s eyes grew wide, almost as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. He flashed his sharp teeth and grinned. Chuck felt a shiver pass through him.
    “Red…like what?” whispered the blood-thirsty vampire.
    “L-l-like an apple?” stuttered Chuck.
    Alfred shook his head very slowly
    “A tricycle, maybe?” ventured Chuck.
    Alfred shook his head slowly, once more.
    “Red, like blood!” roared Alfred. Mary could hear him practically growl the last word, almost as if he was Lord Voldmort. Next she heard Chuck’s high pitched voice yell a deafening yell. Mary and Martin’s closest neighbors are a mile away and Mary was positive they could hear it. She instantly pulled the door open and rushed down the steps and flicked on the lights. She could feel her insides churning in fear as she descended the steps. Mary scanned the basement: there was no sign of Alfred. But she did she Chuck’s corpse. It was similar to Fred Burn’s…the teeth marks…
    Mary felt more ashamed of herself than she did of Alfred. What did this make her? Just a pawn in a vampire’s game of life and death? She flicked the lights off and started up the steps but took a look into the darkness behind her. She could have sworn she saw a glint of eyelashes flashing back at her.

    “I can’t do this any more!” Mary confessed to her husband. She flipped open the telephone book and pointed to an ad she circled earlier. It was for a lady by the name of Gertude. A picture of her was provided. She looked as old as bad pick-up lines. Wrinkles covered her face. She looked short and had a hunch-back; a scarf also covered her head. Below her picture read: Gertude Snow- Vampire and Werewolf Exterminator. $100/hour.
    “Well, um, I guess we can give her a call and-“started Martin.
    “I already did,” announced Mary. The door bell rang. “That might be her,” pointed out Mary.
    Martin rolled his eyes. He was getting frustrated at how fast paced their lives have been. After all, the whole point of the theft was to quit their jobs and just relax. Marty laughed at how wrong he was. When Mary opened the door, she was, in face, not surprised by Gertude’s odd appearance. This is because she appeared the same as the ad; the only difference was a huge mole on the tip of her nose. Mary giggled to herself as she hummed Rudolph the red Nosed reindeer.
    “Good afternoon Miss Snow. How are-“began Mary, politely.
    “Where is he?” asked Gertude softly. Mary could sense she wasn’t one to beat around the bush.
    “In the basement. It’s the first door to the left.”
    “Oh no, honey. You’re coming too. Oh, and grab your husband,” ordered Gertude.
    “But-“
    “We must learn to face our fears, not hire an old woman to do it for us. Know what I mean?” lectured the old woman.
    “I’m not scared!”
    “Then you have no excuse not to come.”
    In a matter of moments, Gertude, Marty, and Mary descended the eerie steps of the basement. Gertude carried a mysterious handbag with her to the basement, which Mary pictured it to be some vampire-killing device.
    “Where is he? You said he was here,” whispered the elderly woman.
    “He’s, um, invisible,” whispered Mary, feeling a bit childish.
    Gertude looked puzzled. She retrieved three vests; each had cloves of garlic pinned on them. She equipped her self with one and gave the other two to the couple. Next, she retrieved three silver crosses and three small bottles of holy water. They looked like a trio of warriors, but they didn’t feel like one. Next, all three of them jumped…a voice laughed.
    “Do you really think those little tricks will work on me?” shouted a voice that seemed to be coming from all angles.
    “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” shrieked Gertude.
    Alfred leapt, like a witch’s cat, in the air (he turned visible in mid-air) and tackled the old woman to the ground. He lifted his head into the aid, revealed his saw-like teeth, and sunk them into her neck. As the couple heard him slurp the lady’s red liquid, they could do nothing but watch in horror. When Alfred finished his snack, he licked the blood from his lips and turned towards Mary and Marty.
    Mary instinctively splashed the holy water in Alfred’s face, but…nothing.
    “Let me ask you a question. What do you think I am?!” asked Alfred, moving closer and closer to her.
    “A vampire!” she shouted.
    “Exactly. I am not an actor you see in the movies. I do not weaken, I only grow stronger,” explained Alfred.
    He then vanished. Mary didn’t try running; they knew the end was coming. They sprinted up the stairs and out the front door. Mary slammed the front door behind her…but heard it hit something before it shut. She looked behind her and saw the one face she never wanted to see again. Alfred pushed her down to the grass and laughed maniacally.
    “Where’s Marty!? He was right behind me!” shouted Mary, looking up at him and wiping the dirt off her jeans.
    “Oh don’t worry; I got him back in the house. He’s not dead…yet,” replied Alfred.
    As Alfred approached Mary to conclude her fate, something caught his attention next to him…the newspaper. The front page consisted of a picture of Mary and Martin. Below it said: “Have you see these people? They are Mary and Martin Salt. They are fugitives that are wanted for the robbery of the Comerica Bank on Main Street and the murder of a state officer. I you’ve seen them, contact the Montana State Police Department at-“
    “Well” said Alfred “I think I’ve seen these people.”
    Five hours later, twenty miles away, the MSPD was dead quiet. A tall, thin, African American cop sat at his desk playing solitaire: it was a generally slow day. But what made him jump was a knock on the front door. Bored out of his mind, he volunteered to answer. His jaw almost dropped to the floor in astonishment. On the other side of the door was Mary and Martin Salt: hogtied, bound, and gagged.