“Bastard.”
He smiled and nodded and left through the side doors. As he passed Tammy, he gave her a small wave. She smiled and waved back.
Once outside, he looked back at me through the big glass window. He winked, adjusted his bag, and, no, he didn’t disappear or fade away. He walked beyond the window and out of sight. No doubt to his SUV.
Whoever the hell he was.
The End
Vampire vs. Bigfoot
I’ve lived in many places and in many times.
For now, Seattle suits me. If Twilight got anything right, it’s that overcast days play less havoc on vampires. Not much less, granted, but enough.
Unlike Twilight, I don’t live with an adopted family of vampires. I live alone, as I have for many centuries. And as I pulled up to my current home, I actually had to think hard about how many centuries it has been.
Four of them. Four hundred and seventy-two years, to be exact.
Almost five centuries.
A half of a millennium.
Jesus, I’m old. And rich. After all, a vampire acquires a lot of money in five hundred years, and my own was spread liberally around banks the world over, not to mention secret stashes of gold and silver in various caves and beaches.
And now here I was, in Seattle, living yet another life, in another place, another time. The world continues on. People come and go. Technologies expand. Waistlines expand, too. But I will always be twenty-five.
Forever young, as they say.
I pull into my garage and shut off the car, which I sit in as the garage door grinds shut behind me. I could do anything, of course. Go anywhere, be anyone. There are people out there—very talented and corrupt people—who can turn you into anyone, in any country.
But, for now, I am staying put, living among the hippies and hipsters and baristas. Why? Why do I deal with the rain and gloom and cold?
The answer might surprise you.
Then again, it might not.
After all, Washington State is known more than just for its legal pot, gay marriages and trendy coffee shops.
It’s known for something monstrous stalking its woods.
Yes, I’m here to hunt the ultimate prize.
I’m here to hunt Bigfoot.
* * *
Don’t laugh.
I’m being serious. I’ve tasted all types of man and woman and child. All ethnicities, all age ranges. I’ve feasted on the very old to the very young. Yes, I’m a monster. I’ve never claimed to be otherwise. I have feasted on puppies and bear cubs, on lions and endangered rhinos. Yes, I am a monster.
And now I will hunt and feast upon the greatest prize of them all.
That is, of course, if he really exists.
* * *
I’ve spent many months planning and plotting.