Unfamiliar shouts outside our bedroom door awaken me to the darkness. Heavy stomps approach. Beside me, Amy doesn’t move. I sit upright in bed as the door bursts open, splitting the wood along the doorframe.
Meryl screams from her bed. Someone flips on the the light. It’s two men, dressed in black: the God Squad.
“The air was cold and wet, and if you stood still for a moment the chilling damp would creep into your bones. I could tell the temperature was taking a deep dive, and the bright sky of the morning was a fond memory. It was an appropriate day to dump a body.”
““Wow,” I said, since it was all I could think of to say. “Wow. That’s some outfit.” When you’ve got a big guy wearing Lycra it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. I resisted the temptation to ask Eric to turn around.
“I don’t believe I could be convincing as a queen,” Eric said, “but I decided this sent such a mixed signal, almost anything was possible.” He fluttered his eyelashes at me. Eric was definitely enjoying this.
“Oh, yes,” I said, trying to find somewhere else to look. “
“You’ve reached Fantasia, where the undead live again every night,” “For bar hours, press one. To make a party reservation, press two. To talk to alive person or a dead vampire, press three. Or, if you were intending to leave a humorous prank message on our answering machine, know this: we will find you.”
While Daisy looked like something that had emerge from the grave of a ritual sacrifice, Esther had gone for the sexually promiscuous vampire aesthetic. Her hair was straightened into two thick black curtains, framing long-lashed eyes with yellow irises, courtesy of a pair of contact lenses that Esther had spent at least fifteen minutes trying to put in before Daisy pinned her down for Susan to do the honors.