Here’s a little tale I wrote in about 15 minutes (you’ll either be very impressed or not surprised once you read the story). I am a girl, and proud of it, but my protagonist is a guy for this one. I do hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it. This one is titled “Waiting.”
He stood in front of the refridgerator, his arms folded over his chest, his right index finger played with his lower lip as he looked at me like I was a Chinese buffet. It made me feel weird, like he thought I looked delicious or something. Hey, I’ve known him since the first grade, and I’d wondered when we’d be having this conversation, so I had my reaction well-practiced.
Whatever floats your boat, Bud. Just don’t be checkin’ out my ass.
Jeff smiled. Well, his mouth twitched a little, anyway. He darted his eyes to the recliner, like he was telling me to sit down. It was my Plan A, anyhow, so I flopped in the chair and propped my feet on the coffee table.
“Where ya been, dude?” I tried to sound casual, but Jeff was seriously sucking the air out of the place.
“I have been…gone,” he said. His voice was low, steady, not at all the make you jump outta your seat voice he’d always had.
“Yeah,” I said. “So, Jeff…”
“It is Armando, now.”
“Whatever, dude. No really where ya been?”
Jeff, or Armando, walked over to the small window over the washer and dryer. He looked out, like he was looking for something. He had this sort of peaceful look on his face, like he knew something he really wanted was close. I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a couple of bottle necks. He turned and watched me, but he shook his head and waved away the beer I’d offered him. More for me.
He turned back to the window as I flopped back into the recliner and opened one of the beers. I gulped down a greedy swig, then watched him. He was so still. I could swear he wasn’t breathing.
His mouth twitched again. He closed his eyes.
I couldn’t take it. Jeff’s jokes were legendary, but he could never wait this long for the punchline.
He wheeled on me. I could swear I saw red in his eyes. I’d never seen him so pissed. I didn’t care if it made me look like a wuss, I folded my legs up in the recliner and put my hands up. My beer fell to the floor and spilled, I’m sorry to say.
“Okay, okay, you’re Armando. Just, don’t do that, okay?” As he calmed down, I unfolded myself. “Don’t scare me like that.” I laughed. “I only got this one pair of drawers, ya know?”
Potty humor always made Jeff laugh, but what I said made him look disgusted. Then I saw a flash of something else, something worse than disgust.
Then he changed, his face, his body, all changed, and he turned back to the window.
“Do not speak,” he said. “I am waiting.”
I couldn’t help it.
“Waiting for who?”
He sighed, but he answered.
“For my Master.”
Ahhh, I thought. Now I get it.
“Oooh-kay, so is this one of those role-playing things? Does your ‘Master’ have a leash he leads you around on? It’s cool, I dig it.”
He turned and glared at me.
“Nah, really. I totally understand. I watch late night cable.”
He didn’t say anything, which is good because the way he was looking at me…
I offered him the other beer. He shook his head.
Just then, our buddy, Kyle, walked in, carrying a case of beer. He took one look at Je…Armando, then at me, then shrugged and carried the beer to the fridge. He grabbed a bottleneck and sat on the couch beside me.
“Hey Jeff,” he said like it was Sunday afternoon. “What’s up?”
Armando rushed to the couch, and, before I knew what was happening, he grabbed Kyle and bit into his neck. Blood squirted, I squealed, I’m not ashamed to say it, as I tried to free myself from the recliner. He dropped Kyle like last week’s trash and looked like he was…savoring…the blood.
“Dude,” I said (don’t fault me for not being a philosopher at this point). “You killed Kyle!”
“Yes,” he said. He waved his hands with impatience. “I’m a vampire. I don’t want your beer. I want blood. It is Life. It is all I want.”
“You’re a vampire?”
“But, Dude, you don’t sparkle.”
He let out a roar. I wanted to cry. Then he gathered himself. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he nodded.
“The Master will not come for you.”
He straighted his back and raised his chin in an oh-so-haughty manner.
“I have sent a message telling him you’re not a suitable meal.”
“Thanks,” then, “wait….not suitable? Are you saying I’m not good enough to suck on?” Then I immediately wished I hadn’t said that last part.
“I am,” he said. He smoothed out his shirt. “You will not be a vampire.”
“Guess it’s my lucky day, then.”
He looked me over, his lip curled.
“It is we who are lucky.”
With that, he stepped over Kyle’s body and left.
I’d never felt so insulted.