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Description
Garlic Bread
By Bram Causefobrel

“Want any garlic bread?” The woman asked, holding out the basket with a sweet smile on her face. Behind her, her son’s brown eyes, the ones that caught the sunlight and reflected it like the gold of burnt sugar on the top of a crème brulee, framed with long lashes, widened more than usual, and he began coughing quietly. His mother turned her attention to him briefly. “What have I told you about chewing your food carefully, Grant?” She asked, as her son gulped at a cup of water somewhat desperately. She shook her head and returned to the target of her earlier question.
“Well, dear?”
The girl, a smile on her red lips which Grant had been all too aware of the entire night, brushed a lock of strawberry blonde hair which curled itself in loose ringlets out of her face, her dark eyes glittering as they switched focus back onto the woman in front of her. “No thank you Ma’am. I’m pretty much full at this rate,” she said, picking up her own glass as she spoke and taking a sip.
“That’s right, Mom. Ria probably had a large lunch, right?” Grant said, looking somewhat like a half drowned cat searching for a way out of the water.
“Actually, I just don’t eat all that much,” Ria responded, smiling more. “Thank you for the meal, though. It was delicious.”
Blinking, Grant’s mother shrugged and put the basket down again. Grant boggled at the plate in front of the girl, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t seen her take a single bite, yet it was entirely clean.
“What about you, Grant? Want some more bread?” His mother asked, giving him a slight start. With a sudden jump he began stuffing the last of the collard greens into his mouth.
“No thanks, I’m good,” he said, mouth half full, before grabbing his own plate and his mother’s. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“I’ll help,” Ria said, standing as well, her plate in her hand.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” Grant replied hastily, hurrying around the table in an attempt to beat her to the kitchen, only for the girl to gently bump him out of the way with a laugh.
“I insist. I’m sure you don’t actually mind having someone to help clean up, do you?”
Grant blinked at her, before shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “No, I suppose I don’t.”
As the two left the room, Grant’s mother leaned back in her chair and laughed quietly to herself. “Kids,” she mumbled.

----------------

Music, upbeat and instrumental, played quietly in the background, set against the clink and clank of dishes being knocked together gently. Warm, sudsy water splashed against Grant’s arms as he scrubbed a plate with a bright purple sponge, before handing it off to Ria to rinse and put in a drying rack nearby. It was a rhythmic, almost hypnotic action that Grant had learned to be particularly fond of over the years. Something went into the water dirty, was scrubbed at, and came out clean, simple as that, and it was clear that the effort he spent had a measurable effect on the outcome. “Cathartic.” That was the word his father had used to describe it in the past. Maybe it wasn’t used properly, he wasn’t sure, but it always stuck with him as the word to describe it. He’d heard from some people that sticking their hand in water and feeling particles of food that they couldn’t actually see was “disgusting” but he’d never been one to mind. It wasn’t as if there was going to be anything alive in there.
As Grant’s mind wandered, Ria hummed along with the music, singing wordless verses that seemed to fit whatever his mother had set playing, as if it belonged, even if that had to be impossible. Nevertheless, her swaying, and the quiet nonsense babbling from her lush lips was just as welcome as everything else had been that evening, and Grant wasn’t going to object. Her arrival had been a complete surprise, to be honest. She had shown up on their doorstep that evening, and before he’d known it, Grant’s mother had invited her inside to eat with them. To be fair, she had said she would be dropping in at some point earlier that same day, but he hadn’t exactly expected that very evening.
It was only when she turned to him, an eyebrow raised that Grant realized he’d stopped washing in order to stare at her. He quickly turned back, cheeks flushed, bringing out a laugh from her that interrupted her singing, followed by a single snort. Goodness gracious she’d just snorted while laughing. He had made her snort while laughing.
Another few wordless moments went by, filled only by the music and Ria’s singing. The song ended and quiet filled the kitchen, the sloshing of water, running faucet and clinking dishes all that remained. Finally, Ria broke the silence, her voice slightly rough, like someone who had started smoking early in life, but quit before the damage could become too severe.
“So, are you gonna ask?”
Grant blinked. “Ask what?” He responded, watching her out the corner of his eye.
“If I really can’t eat garlic,” she said, her dark, sparkling eyes still focused on the task of rinsing out a large metal bowl, a smile on her lips. She wrinkled her nose as some water splashed on her face, though the smile didn’t drop, and for the first time Grant realized it was ever so slightly crooked, as if it had been broken at some point and set by hand.
“Oh… No, I wasn’t… Can you?”
She let out a laugh, and he flushed again. “Me? No. But only because I’m allergic to it. It’s easier to avoid than you might expect, though. Just don’t eat Italian too much.”
“Oh… So it’s not because you’re…”
“Honestly, Grant, you’ve known me for what, a month now? You’re the first person I’ve ever met who hasn’t peppered me with questions about this stuff, or straight out not believed me,” she said with a laugh. “No, it’s not because I’m a vampire. That’s just a silly myth.”
Immediately Grant’s cheeks reddened again, and he hunched over his work. “I thought you’d maybe not appreciate me bothering you about it…” He mumbled, and Ria let out another snorting laugh.
“I’ll admit, it was a little refreshing, but I promise, I don’t mind,” she said, bumping him with her hip and making him stumble.
“Heyyy! Dealing with breakables here,” he protested, to which she laughed again.
“Alright, sorry, won’t do it again,” she said, still grinning.
“Okay, how’s this? When did you learn how to belly dance anyway?” He asked, shooting her a glare.
“Oh that’s easy. I learned back in ’78. I’d always wanted to, but only got the chance around then cuz I made friends with an instructor. Did you know the original name for it was ‘danse du ventre’ and it translates pretty literally to ‘belly dance?’” She said, shaking her hips to demonstrate.
“Were you there back when it was still called that?”
“No, don’t be an idiot. My instructor taught me that. She was way more into it than I was,” she said, rolling her eyes good naturedly.
“Oh…” Grant said, hunching down again. A moment passed, and Ria let out an over dramatic, drawn out sigh.
“Oh stop that,” she said, pushing his shoulder. “It wasn’t a stupid question, okay? Totally valid, I was just teasing you. Come on, keep asking.”
“Okay, okay, just hang on,” Grant said, laughing, his grin revealing a crooked, gap toothed smile. “Well, how old ARE you then?”
Ria gave a feigned look of horror. “Dost thine dare to ask a lady about her age?” She said, pretending to swoon, only to catch herself and laugh again. “Seriously though, you’re treading dangerous water there, buddy. If I weren’t as confident in not giving a shit as I am,” Grant grimaced and glanced at the doorway to the living room where his mother was most likely lounging after the meal, “Then you might not have gotten away with it. Anyway, I’m about, uh…” She frowned and began counting on her fingers.
“Do you not really remember?” Grant asked, drying his hands on a cloth towel and leaning against the sink.
“Hey, it’s been a while, that’s all,” Ria said with a shrug. “I think I was born in 1914? Somewhere around then. I know it was on August 20th for sure, but the year is a bit hazier. You stop keeping track after you realize you aren’t aging. Guess that would make me 98 then.”
Grant blinked. Somehow he’d expected older. “Then how old were you when you…”
“Twenty two. It was on October 17th 1936,” she said, answering the question he’d been about to ask. “My current girlfriend at the time-“
“Girlfriend?” Grant asked, blinking.
“Yeah. What?”
“Oh, nothing, was just thinking… Wasn’t that sorta thing looked down on back then? Must have been kinda hard sneaking around all the time,” he said.
“We didn’t have it as bad as some, but yeah it wasn’t easy,” she said with a shrug. “Anyway, we were in the park late at night, and she revealed what she was and offered, so I took her up on it. Hence why things were a bit easier,” she said, nodding at Grant.
“So then you’ve been a vampire for about 76 years…” He said, crossing his arms and thinking.
Ria giggled. “Yes! An ancient, blood sucking creature of the night! Bluh bleuh!” She said, putting on a fake Transylvanian accent. “Are you intimidated?”
Grant rolled his eyes. “Well not by that. But… Maybe a little by how old you are. Even if you were just 22 and 3 years older than me, it’d be a little intimidating…” He mumbled, looking down.
“Yeah, I can see that. But hey, my first girlfriend was like, 200, so it’s not like it’s that bad,” Ria said with a laugh.
A moment passed where neither one said anything, and Grant’s mother started more music in the other room. Eventually he looked up, frowning. “Whatever happened to you two, anyway?” He asked. “How did that turn out?”
Ria blinked, then shrugged. “I dunno. Not bad if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re still friends, and we talk every once in a while, but the two of us always knew that relationships that last forever are pretty rare. Especially when ‘forever’ is considerably longer for you than it is for most people. We got back in touch pretty recently, actually. It’s a lot easier when you’ve got cell phones with unlimited texting, and Skype and stuff.”
“Oh yeah! What about that whole mirror stuff?” Grant said, changing the subject.
“Total hogwash. By the basis that I reflect light, I therefor show up in reflective surfaces. No idea where that got started,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Although video doesn’t work. Apparently we tend to mess with cameras and stuff, so stuff ends up blurry or pixilated, or with older stuff it’ll have big blotches where things didn’t turn out right. It’s pretty annoying.”
“What about… Bats. Or being able to levitate?”
“Yeah we can do the levitating. I think some of the older ones were able to turn into bats and mist, but I’m not really inclined to explore that so much, so I haven’t. Levitating also isn’t all that useful, since we have superhuman strength and agility as it is, and can just climb up places we need to reach, and that takes less energy. Plus, before you get the hang of it, it’s pretty hard to balance when levitating, so you tend to not use that as an intimidation factor so much early on.”
“How about that whole vampire influence and stuff?” Grant asked, finally getting into the flow of things.
“Yep, that’s a thing. Not that I like to use it, but it’s how we could get thralls way back when,” she said. “Oh, and the red eyes is a thing too, but they mostly show up when you’re trying to enthrall someone. I dunno, it’s weird.”
“And sunlight?”
“Dude, you’ve seen me out in the sun, you should know this. But yeah, gives us a sunburn more easily, and it’s harder to tan. But we aren’t gonna burst into flames or anything,” she said, laughing at the thought. “Actually most of those weaknesses are kinda crap, or not fully explained. For crosses, it’s not so much an effigy of Christianity or that hullabaloo, it’s belief in a symbol, and the belief that that symbol will protect you from harm. In fact, vampires can use this on each other, which is pretty interesting. Same thing with thresholds. Can’t get into a house without being invited in, no matter who lives there,” she said, listing things off her fingers. “Oh yeah, and running water is complete bullshit. Doesn’t do a thing. Holy water does, but again that’s more to do with the belief that it’ll make us go away. Uh let’s see… Oh, counting rice is silly, but surprisingly effective. Dunno why, but it’s like this weird compulsion.”
“What?” Grant said, blinking.
“Counting rice? It’s like this old Japanese myth where if you scatter rice on the ground a vampire will stop to count it, so you can get away easier,” she explained.
“That’s sorta weird…”
“You’re telling me. But it works, for whatever reason.”
“So… That’s it. You’re a vampire. I mean I knew that, but…” Grant said with a sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he pushed himself off the counter and opened up a cupboard, pulling out three clean plates, grabbing a few forks from a drawer as well. “There should be some pie in a container on top of the fridge. Could you get it down for me?” He asked, opening another drawer and searching through the utensils inside.
“Oh, sure,” Ria said, making her way over. There was silence for a few moments, and Grant turned to look, a kitchen knife in his hand. She stood with her back to him, evidently staring at the pie. “You know, there’s something you haven’t asked me. Almost like you’re avoiding it.”
“Mm?” Grant asked, already sure he knew what she was talking about.
“Yeah.”
Another moment passed, and it was clear nothing would be happening until he voiced the one question he was sure he didn’t want to know. “Yeah… Yeah alright… Blood. You have to suck blood don’t you? Or consume it, I guess.”
“I don’t mind saying suck. It makes it feel a little more ridiculous,” she lifted her head and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. Or perhaps her eyes were closed. Grant couldn’t tell from where he stood. “Honestly, it’s the one downside to the whole thing. It has to be human, and it has to be fresh. Animal blood doesn’t work, and if it’s not fresh it’ll make you sick pretty quick. Plus… There’s an issue of control.” Grant set down the knife and leaned against the counter again, acid washed jeans pressing against the wood grain, a hint at the blue, plaid boxers peeking out from his waistline where the red t-shirt rode up slightly. “If we aren’t careful, we’ll fall back on our basic instincts. Some of us call it a ‘feeding frenzy’ and it’s… Well it’s not pretty, to say the least. Entire villages have been wiped out because of feeding frenzies in the past…”
“Has one ever happened to you?” Grant asked gingerly. Ria flinched at his words, and immediately he wished he could take them back. However, she kept talking anyway.
“A few times. I had someone with me, though, and they were able to knock some sense into me. But…” she trailed off, and her shoulders hunched up slightly. “There was once… My partner at the time, he wasn’t able to get to me before… She was barely 18, Grant. When I was finished, she’d been drained entirely dry. Practically crumbled into dust.”
Grant sucked in a breath. “Ria, I… I’m so-“
“No. It’s okay, it was a long time ago. It hurts, even now, but there was nothing I could do, and I can’t go back and change things. But I remember, and it’s enough to make me sure I won’t ever let it happen again. I just needed you to know the risks,” she said, turning back to him, her eyes red, cheeks blotchy. Her nose, with its crooked bit to it, had turned red, and as she watched Grant look at her, she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Sorry,” she mumbled, walking briskly over to the counter and setting down the dish.
“You know, I already sorta figured what the risks were. I mean I know enough about some of the legends. Like how maybe I’ll turn into some sort of ghoul who craves insects, or would get turned myself, or even die. But it didn’t seem likely, the whole ghoul thing, and I don’t think I’d mind being one of you. Dying would suck, but… In the end, the fact that even that one time eats you up so much… It makes me feel safer, I guess...” Grant said, cutting at the pie, the pink goo of strawberry rhubarb innards spilling out and staining the knife. “I dunno. I never was worried. I guess even if I knew, I just wasn’t worried.” He glanced up, to see her staring at him, her dark eyes shining with something else this time. “Pie?” he asked, holding up the plate with the slice on it.

----------------

An hour and a half later, Grant sat on the couch, staring at the television screen as it played a rerun of a comedy show he had watched a lot of in the past. A man in a janitor’s uniform was talking to a morose, balding man in a suit, and a smile tugged at Grant’s lips every other word.
“Man, how did I miss this show? This is great!” Ria said from her place on the armchair nearby. Grant glanced over and grinned.
“Beats me. What were you doing between 2001 and 2010?” He asked.
“Hell if I know. Apparently not watching the right shows,” Ria replied, to which Grant chuckled. His mother had gone to bed ten minutes earlier, leaving him and Ria on their own, but not before giving him a conspicuous wink that made him flush bright red. She’d always get like this whenever he brought home friends who were remotely attractive.
“Honestly, they switched up the last season with new actors, and it just wasn’t as good as before. I mean maybe it could have developed into something better, but it got cancelled pretty fast. Which is cool cuz the finale of the season before was fantastic. Probably one of the best moments in television, at least in my opinion.”
“That good, huh?” Ria asked, giving him an amused look. “You sure like to talk about it, so it must have been.”
Grant blushed and clammed up, turning back to the screen, while Ria laughed behind him. It was somewhat infuriating how she always seemed to know just what buttons to push, yet was cool as a cucumber herself. Of course that sort of figured considering what he knew about her.
Soon, the show ended, and Grant turned the volume down so they didn’t have to listen to the commercials play.
“Scooch over, ya butt,” he heard Ria say, and turned to see her standing over him. Quietly, he obliged, and she sat down next to him, making him uncomfortably aware of how she smelled of a sweet perfume. Lilacs? He couldn’t place it. Her weight pushed down the cushion, and he felt himself sinking toward her ever so slightly, more and more. She wasn’t saying something, and the longer they waited, the harder his heart seemed to beat in his chest. For half a moment, he wondered if she could tell. She’d said something about superhuman strength and agility. Did that extend to her senses as well? Had she been aware of how he’d been staring at her lips the entire night?
He cleared his throat roughly, and she glanced up, her expression unreadable, although her eyes shone in that familiar way. “So uh… I wanted to ask… Turning.”
“Hmm?” She responded, and he got the impression there was a slight disappointment in her voice.
“How… How does it work?”
She shrugged. “It’s actually kinda intimate, and not something you do lightly. Hence why vampires aren’t all over the place. Both parties have to consume each other’s blood, and there’s this whole ritual thing involved, although the ritual is more of tradition. Plus it’s dangerous and all, cuz after that, the person who’s changing has to have a near death experience for it to take effect. Some older vampires know how to stop the heart with pure will alone, and the restart it again, but even then there’s no guarantee it’ll take,” she explained, curling her knees up to her chest and leaning against him.
“And… Have you? You know…”
“Mm. Twice,” she said, and her tone gave the impression she didn’t want to go into it.
Grant couldn’t let up though. “You didn’t… Regret them, did you?” He asked. A moment passed where she considered the answer, then let out a sigh.
“No, Grant, I didn’t regret them. Nor did they become problems later on. They’re perfectly happy, as far as I’m aware.”
“And did you care about them?”
Again, silence stretched. This time, she turned to look at him. “Yes. They were my best friends at that time. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t cared,” she said, and in her dark eyes he could see she was telling the truth.
“Then… Do you care about me?”
Ria looked taken aback, and for a moment Grant worried that he’d said the wrong thing, that she hated him for some reason, or that she would fly out of the room in disgust. Then, there was a hand under his chin and the lips, the lips he had been staring at all evening, red and perfect, with that crooked nose over them, were drawing closer and closer until they touched his own.
The kiss was light. Lighter than he thought could have been possible. Restrained. That was the word for it. As if she wanted to be pressing even closer, to sink into him. His heart beat even faster, and he was sure she could feel it, feel how much he wanted her to press closer. Instead she drew away, and smiled, and he could see two pointed canines, ever so slightly longer and sharper than one might expect, as if they’d just grown in new and hadn’t been ground down with time.
“What does that tell you?” She asked, her eyes dancing, and Grant felt his face flush.
“It tells me… Yeah…”
“Good. Let’s continue this conversation then,” she said, her voice heated, and leaned in once more.

Description
Garlic Bread
By Bram Causefobrel

“Want any garlic bread?” The woman asked, holding out the basket with a sweet smile on her face. Behind her, her son’s brown eyes, the ones that caught the sunlight and reflected it like the gold of burnt sugar on the top of a crème brulee, framed with long lashes, widened more than usual, and he began coughing quietly. His mother turned her attention to him briefly. “What have I told you about chewing your food carefully, Grant?” She asked, as her son gulped at a cup of water somewhat desperately. She shook her head and returned to the target of her earlier question.
“Well, dear?”
The girl, a smile on her red lips which Grant had been all too aware of the entire night, brushed a lock of strawberry blonde hair which curled itself in loose ringlets out of her face, her dark eyes glittering as they switched focus back onto the woman in front of her. “No thank you Ma’am. I’m pretty much full at this rate,” she said, picking up her own glass as she spoke and taking a sip.
“That’s right, Mom. Ria probably had a large lunch, right?” Grant said, looking somewhat like a half drowned cat searching for a way out of the water.
“Actually, I just don’t eat all that much,” Ria responded, smiling more. “Thank you for the meal, though. It was delicious.”
Blinking, Grant’s mother shrugged and put the basket down again. Grant boggled at the plate in front of the girl, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t seen her take a single bite, yet it was entirely clean.
“What about you, Grant? Want some more bread?” His mother asked, giving him a slight start. With a sudden jump he began stuffing the last of the collard greens into his mouth.
“No thanks, I’m good,” he said, mouth half full, before grabbing his own plate and his mother’s. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“I’ll help,” Ria said, standing as well, her plate in her hand.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” Grant replied hastily, hurrying around the table in an attempt to beat her to the kitchen, only for the girl to gently bump him out of the way with a laugh.
“I insist. I’m sure you don’t actually mind having someone to help clean up, do you?”
Grant blinked at her, before shaking his head and letting out a sigh. “No, I suppose I don’t.”
As the two left the room, Grant’s mother leaned back in her chair and laughed quietly to herself. “Kids,” she mumbled.

----------------

Music, upbeat and instrumental, played quietly in the background, set against the clink and clank of dishes being knocked together gently. Warm, sudsy water splashed against Grant’s arms as he scrubbed a plate with a bright purple sponge, before handing it off to Ria to rinse and put in a drying rack nearby. It was a rhythmic, almost hypnotic action that Grant had learned to be particularly fond of over the years. Something went into the water dirty, was scrubbed at, and came out clean, simple as that, and it was clear that the effort he spent had a measurable effect on the outcome. “Cathartic.” That was the word his father had used to describe it in the past. Maybe it wasn’t used properly, he wasn’t sure, but it always stuck with him as the word to describe it. He’d heard from some people that sticking their hand in water and feeling particles of food that they couldn’t actually see was “disgusting” but he’d never been one to mind. It wasn’t as if there was going to be anything alive in there.
As Grant’s mind wandered, Ria hummed along with the music, singing wordless verses that seemed to fit whatever his mother had set playing, as if it belonged, even if that had to be impossible. Nevertheless, her swaying, and the quiet nonsense babbling from her lush lips was just as welcome as everything else had been that evening, and Grant wasn’t going to object. Her arrival had been a complete surprise, to be honest. She had shown up on their doorstep that evening, and before he’d known it, Grant’s mother had invited her inside to eat with them. To be fair, she had said she would be dropping in at some point earlier that same day, but he hadn’t exactly expected that very evening.
It was only when she turned to him, an eyebrow raised that Grant realized he’d stopped washing in order to stare at her. He quickly turned back, cheeks flushed, bringing out a laugh from her that interrupted her singing, followed by a single snort. Goodness gracious she’d just snorted while laughing. He had made her snort while laughing.
Another few wordless moments went by, filled only by the music and Ria’s singing. The song ended and quiet filled the kitchen, the sloshing of water, running faucet and clinking dishes all that remained. Finally, Ria broke the silence, her voice slightly rough, like someone who had started smoking early in life, but quit before the damage could become too severe.
“So, are you gonna ask?”
Grant blinked. “Ask what?” He responded, watching her out the corner of his eye.
“If I really can’t eat garlic,” she said, her dark, sparkling eyes still focused on the task of rinsing out a large metal bowl, a smile on her lips. She wrinkled her nose as some water splashed on her face, though the smile didn’t drop, and for the first time Grant realized it was ever so slightly crooked, as if it had been broken at some point and set by hand.
“Oh… No, I wasn’t… Can you?”
She let out a laugh, and he flushed again. “Me? No. But only because I’m allergic to it. It’s easier to avoid than you might expect, though. Just don’t eat Italian too much.”
“Oh… So it’s not because you’re…”
“Honestly, Grant, you’ve known me for what, a month now? You’re the first person I’ve ever met who hasn’t peppered me with questions about this stuff, or straight out not believed me,” she said with a laugh. “No, it’s not because I’m a vampire. That’s just a silly myth.”
Immediately Grant’s cheeks reddened again, and he hunched over his work. “I thought you’d maybe not appreciate me bothering you about it…” He mumbled, and Ria let out another snorting laugh.
“I’ll admit, it was a little refreshing, but I promise, I don’t mind,” she said, bumping him with her hip and making him stumble.
“Heyyy! Dealing with breakables here,” he protested, to which she laughed again.
“Alright, sorry, won’t do it again,” she said, still grinning.
“Okay, how’s this? When did you learn how to belly dance anyway?” He asked, shooting her a glare.
“Oh that’s easy. I learned back in ’78. I’d always wanted to, but only got the chance around then cuz I made friends with an instructor. Did you know the original name for it was ‘danse du ventre’ and it translates pretty literally to ‘belly dance?’” She said, shaking her hips to demonstrate.
“Were you there back when it was still called that?”
“No, don’t be an idiot. My instructor taught me that. She was way more into it than I was,” she said, rolling her eyes good naturedly.
“Oh…” Grant said, hunching down again. A moment passed, and Ria let out an over dramatic, drawn out sigh.
“Oh stop that,” she said, pushing his shoulder. “It wasn’t a stupid question, okay? Totally valid, I was just teasing you. Come on, keep asking.”
“Okay, okay, just hang on,” Grant said, laughing, his grin revealing a crooked, gap toothed smile. “Well, how old ARE you then?”
Ria gave a feigned look of horror. “Dost thine dare to ask a lady about her age?” She said, pretending to swoon, only to catch herself and laugh again. “Seriously though, you’re treading dangerous water there, buddy. If I weren’t as confident in not giving a shit as I am,” Grant grimaced and glanced at the doorway to the living room where his mother was most likely lounging after the meal, “Then you might not have gotten away with it. Anyway, I’m about, uh…” She frowned and began counting on her fingers.
“Do you not really remember?” Grant asked, drying his hands on a cloth towel and leaning against the sink.
“Hey, it’s been a while, that’s all,” Ria said with a shrug. “I think I was born in 1914? Somewhere around then. I know it was on August 20th for sure, but the year is a bit hazier. You stop keeping track after you realize you aren’t aging. Guess that would make me 98 then.”
Grant blinked. Somehow he’d expected older. “Then how old were you when you…”
“Twenty two. It was on October 17th 1936,” she said, answering the question he’d been about to ask. “My current girlfriend at the time-“
“Girlfriend?” Grant asked, blinking.
“Yeah. What?”
“Oh, nothing, was just thinking… Wasn’t that sorta thing looked down on back then? Must have been kinda hard sneaking around all the time,” he said.
“We didn’t have it as bad as some, but yeah it wasn’t easy,” she said with a shrug. “Anyway, we were in the park late at night, and she revealed what she was and offered, so I took her up on it. Hence why things were a bit easier,” she said, nodding at Grant.
“So then you’ve been a vampire for about 76 years…” He said, crossing his arms and thinking.
Ria giggled. “Yes! An ancient, blood sucking creature of the night! Bluh bleuh!” She said, putting on a fake Transylvanian accent. “Are you intimidated?”
Grant rolled his eyes. “Well not by that. But… Maybe a little by how old you are. Even if you were just 22 and 3 years older than me, it’d be a little intimidating…” He mumbled, looking down.
“Yeah, I can see that. But hey, my first girlfriend was like, 200, so it’s not like it’s that bad,” Ria said with a laugh.
A moment passed where neither one said anything, and Grant’s mother started more music in the other room. Eventually he looked up, frowning. “Whatever happened to you two, anyway?” He asked. “How did that turn out?”
Ria blinked, then shrugged. “I dunno. Not bad if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re still friends, and we talk every once in a while, but the two of us always knew that relationships that last forever are pretty rare. Especially when ‘forever’ is considerably longer for you than it is for most people. We got back in touch pretty recently, actually. It’s a lot easier when you’ve got cell phones with unlimited texting, and Skype and stuff.”
“Oh yeah! What about that whole mirror stuff?” Grant said, changing the subject.
“Total hogwash. By the basis that I reflect light, I therefor show up in reflective surfaces. No idea where that got started,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Although video doesn’t work. Apparently we tend to mess with cameras and stuff, so stuff ends up blurry or pixilated, or with older stuff it’ll have big blotches where things didn’t turn out right. It’s pretty annoying.”
“What about… Bats. Or being able to levitate?”
“Yeah we can do the levitating. I think some of the older ones were able to turn into bats and mist, but I’m not really inclined to explore that so much, so I haven’t. Levitating also isn’t all that useful, since we have superhuman strength and agility as it is, and can just climb up places we need to reach, and that takes less energy. Plus, before you get the hang of it, it’s pretty hard to balance when levitating, so you tend to not use that as an intimidation factor so much early on.”
“How about that whole vampire influence and stuff?” Grant asked, finally getting into the flow of things.
“Yep, that’s a thing. Not that I like to use it, but it’s how we could get thralls way back when,” she said. “Oh, and the red eyes is a thing too, but they mostly show up when you’re trying to enthrall someone. I dunno, it’s weird.”
“And sunlight?”
“Dude, you’ve seen me out in the sun, you should know this. But yeah, gives us a sunburn more easily, and it’s harder to tan. But we aren’t gonna burst into flames or anything,” she said, laughing at the thought. “Actually most of those weaknesses are kinda crap, or not fully explained. For crosses, it’s not so much an effigy of Christianity or that hullabaloo, it’s belief in a symbol, and the belief that that symbol will protect you from harm. In fact, vampires can use this on each other, which is pretty interesting. Same thing with thresholds. Can’t get into a house without being invited in, no matter who lives there,” she said, listing things off her fingers. “Oh yeah, and running water is complete bullshit. Doesn’t do a thing. Holy water does, but again that’s more to do with the belief that it’ll make us go away. Uh let’s see… Oh, counting rice is silly, but surprisingly effective. Dunno why, but it’s like this weird compulsion.”
“What?” Grant said, blinking.
“Counting rice? It’s like this old Japanese myth where if you scatter rice on the ground a vampire will stop to count it, so you can get away easier,” she explained.
“That’s sorta weird…”
“You’re telling me. But it works, for whatever reason.”
“So… That’s it. You’re a vampire. I mean I knew that, but…” Grant said with a sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he pushed himself off the counter and opened up a cupboard, pulling out three clean plates, grabbing a few forks from a drawer as well. “There should be some pie in a container on top of the fridge. Could you get it down for me?” He asked, opening another drawer and searching through the utensils inside.
“Oh, sure,” Ria said, making her way over. There was silence for a few moments, and Grant turned to look, a kitchen knife in his hand. She stood with her back to him, evidently staring at the pie. “You know, there’s something you haven’t asked me. Almost like you’re avoiding it.”
“Mm?” Grant asked, already sure he knew what she was talking about.
“Yeah.”
Another moment passed, and it was clear nothing would be happening until he voiced the one question he was sure he didn’t want to know. “Yeah… Yeah alright… Blood. You have to suck blood don’t you? Or consume it, I guess.”
“I don’t mind saying suck. It makes it feel a little more ridiculous,” she lifted her head and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. Or perhaps her eyes were closed. Grant couldn’t tell from where he stood. “Honestly, it’s the one downside to the whole thing. It has to be human, and it has to be fresh. Animal blood doesn’t work, and if it’s not fresh it’ll make you sick pretty quick. Plus… There’s an issue of control.” Grant set down the knife and leaned against the counter again, acid washed jeans pressing against the wood grain, a hint at the blue, plaid boxers peeking out from his waistline where the red t-shirt rode up slightly. “If we aren’t careful, we’ll fall back on our basic instincts. Some of us call it a ‘feeding frenzy’ and it’s… Well it’s not pretty, to say the least. Entire villages have been wiped out because of feeding frenzies in the past…”
“Has one ever happened to you?” Grant asked gingerly. Ria flinched at his words, and immediately he wished he could take them back. However, she kept talking anyway.
“A few times. I had someone with me, though, and they were able to knock some sense into me. But…” she trailed off, and her shoulders hunched up slightly. “There was once… My partner at the time, he wasn’t able to get to me before… She was barely 18, Grant. When I was finished, she’d been drained entirely dry. Practically crumbled into dust.”
Grant sucked in a breath. “Ria, I… I’m so-“
“No. It’s okay, it was a long time ago. It hurts, even now, but there was nothing I could do, and I can’t go back and change things. But I remember, and it’s enough to make me sure I won’t ever let it happen again. I just needed you to know the risks,” she said, turning back to him, her eyes red, cheeks blotchy. Her nose, with its crooked bit to it, had turned red, and as she watched Grant look at her, she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Sorry,” she mumbled, walking briskly over to the counter and setting down the dish.
“You know, I already sorta figured what the risks were. I mean I know enough about some of the legends. Like how maybe I’ll turn into some sort of ghoul who craves insects, or would get turned myself, or even die. But it didn’t seem likely, the whole ghoul thing, and I don’t think I’d mind being one of you. Dying would suck, but… In the end, the fact that even that one time eats you up so much… It makes me feel safer, I guess...” Grant said, cutting at the pie, the pink goo of strawberry rhubarb innards spilling out and staining the knife. “I dunno. I never was worried. I guess even if I knew, I just wasn’t worried.” He glanced up, to see her staring at him, her dark eyes shining with something else this time. “Pie?” he asked, holding up the plate with the slice on it.

----------------

An hour and a half later, Grant sat on the couch, staring at the television screen as it played a rerun of a comedy show he had watched a lot of in the past. A man in a janitor’s uniform was talking to a morose, balding man in a suit, and a smile tugged at Grant’s lips every other word.
“Man, how did I miss this show? This is great!” Ria said from her place on the armchair nearby. Grant glanced over and grinned.
“Beats me. What were you doing between 2001 and 2010?” He asked.
“Hell if I know. Apparently not watching the right shows,” Ria replied, to which Grant chuckled. His mother had gone to bed ten minutes earlier, leaving him and Ria on their own, but not before giving him a conspicuous wink that made him flush bright red. She’d always get like this whenever he brought home friends who were remotely attractive.
“Honestly, they switched up the last season with new actors, and it just wasn’t as good as before. I mean maybe it could have developed into something better, but it got cancelled pretty fast. Which is cool cuz the finale of the season before was fantastic. Probably one of the best moments in television, at least in my opinion.”
“That good, huh?” Ria asked, giving him an amused look. “You sure like to talk about it, so it must have been.”
Grant blushed and clammed up, turning back to the screen, while Ria laughed behind him. It was somewhat infuriating how she always seemed to know just what buttons to push, yet was cool as a cucumber herself. Of course that sort of figured considering what he knew about her.
Soon, the show ended, and Grant turned the volume down so they didn’t have to listen to the commercials play.
“Scooch over, ya butt,” he heard Ria say, and turned to see her standing over him. Quietly, he obliged, and she sat down next to him, making him uncomfortably aware of how she smelled of a sweet perfume. Lilacs? He couldn’t place it. Her weight pushed down the cushion, and he felt himself sinking toward her ever so slightly, more and more. She wasn’t saying something, and the longer they waited, the harder his heart seemed to beat in his chest. For half a moment, he wondered if she could tell. She’d said something about superhuman strength and agility. Did that extend to her senses as well? Had she been aware of how he’d been staring at her lips the entire night?
He cleared his throat roughly, and she glanced up, her expression unreadable, although her eyes shone in that familiar way. “So uh… I wanted to ask… Turning.”
“Hmm?” She responded, and he got the impression there was a slight disappointment in her voice.
“How… How does it work?”
She shrugged. “It’s actually kinda intimate, and not something you do lightly. Hence why vampires aren’t all over the place. Both parties have to consume each other’s blood, and there’s this whole ritual thing involved, although the ritual is more of tradition. Plus it’s dangerous and all, cuz after that, the person who’s changing has to have a near death experience for it to take effect. Some older vampires know how to stop the heart with pure will alone, and the restart it again, but even then there’s no guarantee it’ll take,” she explained, curling her knees up to her chest and leaning against him.
“And… Have you? You know…”
“Mm. Twice,” she said, and her tone gave the impression she didn’t want to go into it.
Grant couldn’t let up though. “You didn’t… Regret them, did you?” He asked. A moment passed where she considered the answer, then let out a sigh.
“No, Grant, I didn’t regret them. Nor did they become problems later on. They’re perfectly happy, as far as I’m aware.”
“And did you care about them?”
Again, silence stretched. This time, she turned to look at him. “Yes. They were my best friends at that time. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t cared,” she said, and in her dark eyes he could see she was telling the truth.
“Then… Do you care about me?”
Ria looked taken aback, and for a moment Grant worried that he’d said the wrong thing, that she hated him for some reason, or that she would fly out of the room in disgust. Then, there was a hand under his chin and the lips, the lips he had been staring at all evening, red and perfect, with that crooked nose over them, were drawing closer and closer until they touched his own.
The kiss was light. Lighter than he thought could have been possible. Restrained. That was the word for it. As if she wanted to be pressing even closer, to sink into him. His heart beat even faster, and he was sure she could feel it, feel how much he wanted her to press closer. Instead she drew away, and smiled, and he could see two pointed canines, ever so slightly longer and sharper than one might expect, as if they’d just grown in new and hadn’t been ground down with time.
“What does that tell you?” She asked, her eyes dancing, and Grant felt his face flush.
“It tells me… Yeah…”
“Good. Let’s continue this conversation then,” she said, her voice heated, and leaned in once more.