parched {muke.vampire}

prologue

The thick and bitter November wind whipped through the small town of Winston, Maryland. A man in merely just a black suit and tie made his way down a certain sidewalk of a certain road, to a certain destination. His reason was unclear to any pedestrians who would pass him every couple minutes. They were clueless as to what bigger dangers lived and his within their small world. The man broke into a fast-paced stride, his long legs carrying him swiftly against the strong winds that of the famous Winston cold.

The man and woman of whom he was heading to had summoned him quite urgently. The man, who's name is unknown to any of his clients, had seen things that would scare some human beings to the brink of death, or suicide. He knew what lived out in the world. He knew what existed. His black briefcase grew heavier in his right hand. He pushed forward.

He approached the address. 1154, Johnson Alley. It was a quaint house, brick, the shudders a dark shade of brown. A perfect family home. The man need not knock on the door, simply because the man and woman who had called for him had been waiting. The door was already opened.

"You walked?" The man, Mr. Clifford, asked, his voice full of nervousness.

"I do not feel safe in cars," the man entered the front door, which led into a small dining area, a long, wooden dining room table stretching the length of the room. It was one of those holiday tables; the ones you don't use other than on Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Mr. Clifford and his wife led the man into the next room; an open space of a living room, a teenage boy sitting on the couch, playing some violent video game.

"Michael? Could you go upstairs and play with your brother?" Mrs. Clifford spoke to Michael, their son. He was the reason the man was there. But Michael didn't know. He didn't know of the suspicions his parents thought. Michael paused the video game, groaned, then reluctantly stood up, heading up the stairs and out of sight.

The man placed the briefcase on the coffee table, he and his new clients sitting on the couch that their son had just been lounging on. The man said not a word as he clicked open the briefcase to reveal what the two concerned parents had requested.

Mrs. Clifford gripped her husband's hand. They were new to this. They were new to the existence of vampires.

"This is only a quarter of the bulk that is being sent to you," the man spoke for the second time. "But this is enough to help you for two weeks."

He pulled out on of the syringes that were filled with vervain.

"I thought vervain was a plant?" Mrs. Clifford asked, her grip still tight on her husbands hand.

"It is," the man confirmed. "But this is water that has been soaked with vervain. It has the same effect on the vampires."

Mrs. Clifford flinched at the mention of the creature's name. The man placed the syringe back in its place. He gestured to the wooden stakes, then to the UV light.

"Thank you," Mr. Clifford shook the man's hand as all three of them stood up. "Really."

"Don't thank me yet, Mr. Clifford," the man walked to the front door, his two clients following him. "You still have the task of keeping your son safe."

They both nodded. The man had seen many cases like theirs. Many parents had a son or a daughter who would start hanging out with one of them. Sooner or later, if they didn't act fast enough, their child would soon become one of them.

As the man walked back down the sidewalk, the Cliffords turned to see the reason they called the man walking to their house.

"Hey, Mr and Mrs Clifford," Luke grinned. "Is Michael here?"