The Visitor

 "What do you mean you don't want to go hunting? We haven't been in almost a week."

 "You went hunting last night, what are you talking about?" Michelle asked, not bothering to look up from the book she was reading in the candle light. 

  "Yes I went by myself. Again. The others were asking about you. They're worried that something is wrong with you."

  Stephen paused and ran his fingers through Michelle's long brown hair.

 "I'm worried that something is wrong with you." 

 "And why is that?" Michelle asked, letting her book go and flopping over onto her back to face Stephen who sat next to her

 "Just because I take a break from hunting I must be broken?"

 "Hunting is how we stay alive, Michelle. So yes, when you stop eating people think there is something wrong."

  Michelle rolled her eyes.

 "I haven't stopped eating. I drained a squirrel yesterday and two rabbits the day before that."

 "Animal blood? That is your diet now?" Stephen asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "We are better than that. You are better than that. You have the power now to-"

  "To what? The power to what, Stephen?" Michelle demanded, rising up onto her knees so she could be eye level with the other vampire.

  "The power to viciously end the lives of strangers? The power to feel nothing as I watch the color drain out of their faces? Well maybe that is something I don't want."

  "You don't get to say that now," Stephen yelled, bringing his hand down hard on the mattress. It left a faint imprint in the dark red blanket and Michelle stared at it as he continued.

  "You told me that you wanted this. We both wanted this. We held hands and did it together. And now you want to back out?" 

  Michelle could hear the pain in his voice. 

 "Not back out, just do it differently. You can have your hunts and your human blood and satiate your thirst for power. I am content with my animals. Although I would prefer to hurt no one at all, I no longer have that choice."

 "And is that my fault as well?"

 "What do you mean "as well"? I blame none of this on you, it was my choice to become this way."

 "And so now I must suffer for your choices?"

 "How do you suffer?" Michelle demanded, her voice rising in anger. 

 "Everything we enjoyed together you have taken away from me. You no longer wish to hunt. The cells downstairs remain empty because you refuse to even live in the same house where a person is suffering. You don't even wish to hear stories of my great kills."

 "Perhaps there are more important things than all of that," Michelle insisted. She crawled off the bed and walked over to the window. It was dusk and a light breeze blew through the trees in the darkening light.

 "Can we not just enjoy being together? Am I no longer enough for you?" she asked, turning to look at Stephen with wide sad eyes. 

  He walked over to her and caressed her pale face with one strong hand.

"Of course you're enough for me. I love you."

 Stephen leaned in and Michelle met his lips with hers. His strong hands clasped her hips and with one swift strong motion he threw her across the room and onto the bed. She laughed and reached out her arms for him to join her. 

 "You always were good at ending arguments."

Stephen stood now looking out the same window. Bailey had not come back to the house yet after angrily stomping off and now it was getting dark. Hopefully Darby had talked her into going for a hunt in the park and they would bring him back someone delicious. 

 "Whatcha looking at?" Darby asked, walking up behind him. Stephen turned and glared at her. 

 "Why are you back? Shouldn't you be out hunting?" 

 "What do you mean back? I never left. I was going to see if you wanted to drain the other victims in the cells since Thomas is apparently off limits now," Darby said, holding up her hands in a feigned surrender to Bailey.

  "Yes I think I would like that very much," Stephen agreed, his fangs tingling. He closed the window shade and turned to follow Darby when their path was blocked by Bailey. She had a huge smile on her face as if nothing had happened this afternoon to upset her.

  "Darby, there is someone here who wants to see you," she said excitedly. "His name is George and he said he-"

  "Did you say George?" Stephen hissed, interrupting Bailey's announcement. Bailey nodded, her excitement fading slightly as she saw the intense anger in his gaze.

  "Did you invite him in?" Stephen asked between gritted teeth. Bailey shook her head. 

  "I thought only you could do that," she squeaked, taking a step back.

  "Stephen, calm down," Darby interjected, putting herself between Stephen and the young vampire. 

  "I will go outside and talk to him and everything will be ok." 

Stephen stood there shaking not taking his eyes off of Bailey.

  "Why is he looking at me that way?" Bailey whispered to Darby. 

  "Don't mind him," Darby told her. "Just go downstairs and tell George I'm coming."

 Bailey turned quickly to leave, ready to be far away from Stephen.

  "And whatever you do," Darby added, "Do not invite him into this house."

Stephen and Michelle

  Michelle and Stephen looked up at each other across the lifeless body of the woman they had just feasted on. Her short black dress was torn in the front from shoulder to shoulder and tiny rivulets of blood trickled down her chest and pooled on her stomach.
 "You have a real gift for finding the tastiest victims," Michelle complimented, licking the girl's blood from between her fingers.
 "Well I learned from the best," Stephen admitted with a wink. He leaned down and sunk his fangs into the soft flesh of the girl's neck and took one last thorough drink. His body tingled with pleasure as it was powered by her delicious blood.
 "Haven't you had enough yet?" Michelle asked. Stephen shook his head.
 "I can never have enough blood. Or enough of you."
 "You are too sweet to me," Michelle told him, batting her eyelashes.
 "Never sweet enough," Stephen insisted. He smiled and pushed the corpse toward Michelle.
 "Are you done?"
  She nodded as she looked down at the body between them.
 "I wonder what her name was and why she was out tonight."
Stephen shrugged and got to his feet.
 "Don't you ever wonder that, Stephen? About the people we eat? Don't you ever wonder who they are or what their story is?"
 "No," Stephen said simply. "I sat alone on a bar stool for years and no one bothered to ask for my name or my story. Why should I care about anyone else's?"
 "I bothered to ask," Michelle told him, a hint of sadness in her voice.
 "Yes you did," Stephen agreed, taking her hands and pulling her up to stand next to him.
 "And that is why I can't ever let you go."



   Stephen sat alone in the darkness mindlessly flipping through the pages of a novel he had read at least eight times. The record machine was skipping again but he didn't care enough to get up and fix it. Cicadas were beginning their evening song from the trees outside and the very last of the sun's rays would soon disappear.
  "Darby and Bailey have been gone a long time," he thought to himself. "They must really be hungry."
  Stephen knew he would soon be hungry as well. Hopefully Darby would remember to fill a bag to bring home to him. He thought of the early days as a young vampire when he would yearn for the cover of darkness and the thrill of the hunt, the overwhelming sense of power and pride that came from overtaking an innocent victim and watching the life drain from their eyes.
  He thought of Michelle and her pale white fingers delicately caressing him as he satiated his thirst with their kills. He remembered the way her soft pink lips felt when they would kiss and lick the blood from each other's mouths. The pain and hurt he had suffered after losing Beth slowly faded away and was replaced by new love, new strength and new hope.
 And then suddenly things had begun to change. Michelle stopped smiling and grew distant. She didn't want to go on hunts with him anymore. And then there was that one horrible day...

  Stephen jerked himself out of his reverie. Marching across the room, he grabbed the skipping record and smashed it against the wall. The pieces fell all over the floor and then the room was silent.
  "I'm getting hungry," Stephen thought to himself, trying desperately to push away all thoughts of Michelle. He was hoping for some new blood but the girls had been gone too long and he was getting hungrier by the minute.
  Grabbing the ring of keys from his desk, he marched up the stairs. He had really been enjoying drinking from that one prisoner. What was his name? Timothy? Trevor? Darby had said it several times but he could never remember.
  "What does it matter anyway?" Stephen thought to himself. No one had even come looking for the boy. He couldn't be that important.
  As Stephen inserted the old rusty key into the lock of the door at the top of the stairs, the sound of another door slamming made him stop. Loud footsteps echoed overhead and he could hear a woman's voice screaming incoherent words.
  The footsteps got closer and closer and before he had the chance to finish unlocking the door a fist began furiously pounding on it.
  "Where is he?" the same voice screamed, sounding angrier and more frazzled than before.
  "Where is who?" Stephen asked, withdrawing the key from the lock.
  "You know damn well who," the voice shrieked. Stephen identified it as Bailey and was surprised. She had never dared to speak with so much force to him or Darby before.
  "I'm sure I don't know," Stephen insisted.
  "Don't play games with me, Stephen," Bailey ordered, punctuating every word with a pound of her fist.
  "Darby said you locked up my friend Thomas and you're going to tell me where he is right now!"
  "Ah, Thomas," Stephen thought. "So that's his name."