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Ghost Boy Blues 11

To say the kiss is a surprise would be the understatement of the century. My first instinct is to struggle and wrest myself from the forced embrace, but the host body wants this too much. I feel his excitement course through the body, affecting it in areas I myself wish it wouldn’t . But I have no control over this. The emotions are too strong and overwhelming that I am nothing more than an observer forced to experience the moment.

To my recollection, I’ve never had a problem with anyone’s lifestyle choices. I know some students who are LGBT and I see nothing wrong with the fact that they feel differently than me when it comes to attraction. But this kiss, it throws me for a loop. It is so unexpected that I never saw it coming. I had no idea either one of these guys might be gay or bi. In fact, I think no one has such ideas. They are keeping it a secret. I say this because the kiss itself is desperate and starved, as if they have both been waiting for this chance for a very long time.

I realize then I could ruin them. Expose their secret. The head of the class, maybe the future valedictorian, and the star football player in a romantic relationship. In this day and age in most places and towns it may not be a big deal, but here it would be scandalous and make outcasts of them both. It gives me a sense of power knowing I alone hold their secret. But I can’t reveal it. It would be wrong and cruel. There is nothing wrong with their relationship as far as I can see. The kiss itself tells me they are in love. I had jumped into this body in order to try to gain someone’s attention and perhaps love. To expose them would be like stabbing my own self in the heart.

The kiss and it’s embrace only lasts a few minutes, but the emotion is so overwhelming I feel like they have been making out for hours. I even feel flushed with excitement myself. I’ve always liked girls. Never thought of myself as even having the slightest desire to want a boy. But this kiss washes over me and I almost don’t want it to stop. I know it isn’t my body. I am just sharing it with someone. I’m a stowaway, a non breathing observer. And yet I feel something, and it scares me.

I leave the body so fast, he nearly faints.. The jock catches him. “Whoa, are you alright?”

I hadn’t been part of him for too long, but my sudden absence has some kind of inner effect. For a moment, he looks as if he is going to hurl everywhere, but the feeling passes and he begins to laugh. At first it is a nervous sound, then it becomes more joyous in nature. I don’t know if it’s because he’s happy that my alien thoughts have left his head or if he is just overjoyed over the mad embrace and kiss from his boyfriend.

They stand there looking at each other for a moment and then my former host sighs. “Yes, I’m okay. Very okay.”

I don’t stick around to see if they are going to kiss again. Instead, I push my way through the wall and into the hallway. Classes are still going on, so the corridor is devoid of people. Even me. For I am spirit once again. Without a host body I am floating free, invisible, unseen, and increasingly more lonely than I have ever been. The longings experienced in the bathroom doesn’t leave me so easily it seems.

I drift down the hall, past the closed doors of classes in session, wondering who I can try next. My great hope for romance seems shattered. Denied me in life, it appears to deny me in the afterlife as well. Perhaps I just need to get to know her better before finding a host body to impress her. After all, I can find out details about her no one knows and use that to my advantage. I can eavesdrop on her secrets. I can observe and see who really interests her among the student body. I can go anywhere, follow her no matter where she goes, or perhaps take her as a new host body and discover all the things she holds inside away from everyone else.

The bell rings so loud in the hallway, I would jump out of my skin if I had any. Within seconds the hallway is flooded with students, all of them heading in different directions, scattering like bees from a hive. And I, like a mere worker bee, scan the hallways for my queen.



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Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 8

Vampire Boys Of Summer (Re-vamped) Main Page

8: Cutter

Up in my room I cried. I couldn’t help it. Everything about the day came crashing over me. First, the Trumps and all their crap, the cellphone picture and the intruder who had taken it, the invasive feeling in the shower, My drunken mom oblivious to my needs as a daughter, dad locked up in an institution, and now this guy making fun of me, having a big laugh at my expense. It didn’t matter anymore if he was a vamp and needed killing. I was completely humiliated and made a fool.

I pulled open my desk drawer. It was reserved for my school work, but there was something hidden in that drawer that I desperately needed. I shuffled pencils and paperclips around, moved some papers, and then located it. It was a man’s open razor blade, the old kind they used to put in shaving razors and box cutters. It had a slight stain on its edge from use. I tossed it on the bed and sat down. The tears were much heavier now, and all I could feel was absolute anguish. I hated me.

I took my pants off and sat back in bed. My tank top was so long it covered my underwear and I fumbled with the bottom edge of it. The X-Japan logo instantly made me think of my favorite song by them, Tears. There was a line in there that said, “Dry your tears with love.” That was Bullshit, I thought. Tears can’t be dried. They are always there, and so I raked the razor blade across my leg just above the knee. I knew it would leave a little scar to go along with the previous ones, but I didn’t care. All I was was exemplified in the physical truth. I was nothing more than tears and scars.

Later, I lay in bed on top of the covers, the stinging from the six gashes on my upper leg keeping me awake. The blood had congealed and was caked on the wounds, a reminder of my pain and turmoil. I often pretended that everything was okay with me. Angela was oblivious to it all. It’s not that she didn’t care. It was just something I couldn’t share with her, or any of my other friends and classmates. This was the only thing I had that was all mine. Everything else had been torn from me by other people or life events and been put on public display. But a girl isn’t happy unless she has that one secret that nobody knows.

I guess I started cutting after dad got sent away. The public humiliation and teasing became a lot to bear. Mom disappeared into the bottle, I into the feel of a sharp razor across my skin. And I’m not one of those who did it just to feel something. Sometimes maybe that was true, but for me, I did it to cover up my real pain, my loneliness. It’s hard to be crying over someone hurting you or something depressing when your pain is real and excruciating. So, my physical attack on myself was to mask the real hurt. It’s the only way I could get beyond it.

I finally fell asleep around two AM and it wasn’t long before I was hardcore dreaming. I have really vivid dreams. I am one of those who can wake up and have instant recall of the dreamscape. A lot of people wake confused and disoriented, trying to grasp the images that fade at a rapid rate. But I’m not like that. I’m pretty clear headed when I awaken, even though it does take a while to rouse me from my deep sleep.

My dream that night was of the puzzle man. I was out there in the backyard again and he was handing me puzzle pieces to put in place. The puzzle was different and it kept changing every time I looked down at it. Once, it depicted a mound of decapitated heads stacked beside the flagpole of a school. Another time it was a young couple making love, a stake penetrating both of their bodies, impaling them to the ground. The next glance revealed a river of blood. Upon its banks, bloody swords were in the hands of massacred teenagers. Each time the image changed, the missing piece was a female face, which always turned out to be the piece in my hand. The bizarre vampire man, who again spoke in guttural noises, got up and scattered the pieces, overturning the card table with fury. A piercing sound erupted from his throat and it started to sound like a word: Imouto. He clenched his fists and shouted this several times over. Blood started to run down his hand where his fingers dug into the flesh. He offered it to me. I jolted awake.

Wide awake now and staring at the ceiling, I didn’t know what to make of the nightmare. None of it made sense. But it freaked me out just the same. It would be awhile before sleep came again, so I got up from bed, threw a robe over my t-shirt and underwear, and went to my window. I gently parted the curtains to look out, expecting to see vampire boy staring up at the heavens. But he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The party was still going full force but I couldn’t hear anything from my house.

I couldn’t believe they were still going at it at this hour. It was a school night, damn it. And where did all these party goers come from anyway? If they had just moved to Chelsea Valley, how the hell did they know so many people? I couldn’t believe everyone came with them from their old house. While I was pondering this, the side door opened and the boy emerged. He had lost the uniform and was now in sweat pants and a tank top. The dim light from the stars illuminated his skin and for a moment I thought I caught a glimpse of a tattoo. The very edge of it seemed to peek out of his tank top, but I couldn’t tell if this was certain or just a trick of the light. I really didn’t care anymore. If he was the creeper who’d been in my room earlier it just allowed me to hate him more. It would be a long time, maybe forever, before I’d try to talk to him again. What he’d done was mean spirited and not funny at all. He had played with me in my awkwardness and uncertainty, and made me out to be a complete and embarrassed fool. He was no better than the Trumps, and once I had some rest, I was going to expose him to the sun and watch him burn with the same glee he had exhibited when he made fun of me tonight.

Read Ep. 9

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D. Aronson. All Rights Reserved.

Ghost Boy Blues 10

Out in the hall we stand on shaky feet. Though much of the vertigo feeling has gone away, this host body is weak. Perhaps it is my presence that drains the energy, the fact that two should are now sharing a bodily apartment. For now we are roommates trying to get along until one moves out. Eventually, one will dominate the other. I cant imagine both minds swirling around in this flesh, bumping into each other and wondering who’s thoughts are whose.

We head down the empty hall, me inside the frame of Joey Mattson, the guy everyone else wants to be. And now I’m him. I could probably get any girl in school now. They all adore him. Even the teachers like him. The sky is the limit on what is achievable. But first, Joey thinks he needs to go to the bathroom. And so I relax, letting him go to take care of whatever bodily functions needs attention.

No one is in the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror and splashes water in his face. It’s a weird feeling for me, seeing myself and knowing the face isn’t mine. This one doesn’t have acne, nor scars associated with it. The eyes are a different color, the cheeks higher, and when he smiles to check his teeth, I can’t help that they are much whiter than mine were. It takes some effort but I force hm to look down at his body. Even with clothes covering it, I can tell the physique is more appealing than mine ever was. I no longer inhabit a lanky body. Its easy to tell Joey works out. He is in top physical form. No wonder he’s popular with the ladies.

My thoughts must have been bleeding into his own for the vertigo returned and he hurried into a stall to throw up. He retched but nothing came. I could his confused mind asking what was wrong with him. I wanted to answer him back, ‘You aren’t just you anymore.’ I also wanted to direct him to get it together and just accept this. Go find the girl I jumped into this body for anyway. I don’t know if it was my thoughts or how he was feeling physically, but he went to retch again.

The bathroom door opened and someone came in. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stepped out of the stall, expecting to see a teacher. But it wasn’t one of the faculty. It was the football jock from class.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” my host replied. “No, I’m not sure.”

The jock walked to one of the urinals and unzipped. In the midst of relieving his bladder, he asked, “so, what’s wrong? You feel sick?”

“Yeah, a little, I guess.”

“You going to hurl?”

My host laughs. “No. I thought I was. I’ll be okay.”

The jock zips back up. “I hope so.”

“Yeah, me too.”

We all walk to the sinks, both guys washing their hands. Nothing is said for a moment.

“How did you get out of class?” My host asks.

“Oh that was easy. Teachers get uneasy when you say you cant hold it any longer. I threatened to piss in my seat.”

They both have a laugh at this and then proceed to dry their hands off at the wall mounted dryer.

“You better go back soon then,” Joey says. “It doesn’t take that long to pee.”

“Yeah, I guess I better. You sure you’re okay?”

I nod my head, or at least Joey does. I am just a spectator inside his body. And then I fell it. A butterfly kind of feeling, that spreads through my stomach and down my body. I wonder if he’s going to retch again right in front of this guy. Maybe hurl up on his shoes.

The jock smiles and turns to go, then stops. “I don’t care if you threw up or not.”



He grabs my host’s face in his hands and kisses him.


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Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 7

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7: Konnichiwa

It was dark out but the house was lit up like Christmas. It seemed every light was on and I could see movement behind the curtains. Lots and lots of movement. In fact, it looked like my new neighbors were throwing a party. The weird thing was just a few moments ago when I looked out, there didn’t seem to be any activity at all. Now I stood there on my front porch unsure of what to do. I couldn’t very well waltz into the middle of a throw down and stake someone through their heart.

The night was oppressive and quiet. Even in my yard it was like a cemetery, still and silent. I stepped off my porch and walked across the yard. My eyes still on the house, I could see all kinds of partying going on inside and yet there was no sound, not one single muffled noise. Then a door opened on the side of the house facing me. Loud rock music interrupted the quiet with a cacophony of melodic noise. B’z. Las Vegas. I knew the song, though a large part of it wasn’t even in English. I spent many long hours streaming music from Japanese radio stations and youtube on my laptop, never thinking I’d have neighbors who would enjoy the same thing. And in such a loud manner, too.

With the door still open, I could hear partygoers shouting out the lyrics, “Won’t you come with me? Ah-ha-ha!” Then the door shut again. A figure was now wrapped in the night on the side patio. I stood still and watched them, wondering if they had seen me. The figure let out a sigh and tilted his head to the heavens. It was a clear night. The moon and stars seemed to illuminate his face. It was the boy I had seen the night before. I was a little closer now so it was easy to confirm I had been right in the fact he was Asian. He wore what looked like a schoolboy’s uniform, the kind they sport in the harem animes I watch. Nice slacks, white shirt, blue blazer. He could have just stepped out of “Uta No Prince Sama.” I waited to see if he would suddenly break out into a song. He didn’t. He was too enraptured with the night sky as if he were cataloguing the stars in his head.

He put a hand up to his head and ran his fingers through his shoulder length blond hair. It looked out of place as most Asians I’d seen had black hair and dark eyes. His hair didn’t looked like it had been dyed either. No, it looked like the color had been sucked out of his locks, leaving him with a pale blond that if two shades lighter would have been white. Even his skin looked paler, but not sickly. His face was smooth as if he hadn’t even started shaving yet. When he turned his head in my direction and spotted me, I saw his eyes were the color of dark almonds.

There was nothing I could do after being seen. Sure, I could have charged him with my vampire stake in hand. Or run screaming for help. But I did neither of these. Instead, I took a bold step over the threshold of his yard and approached him. Just like earlier that day, it was like walking into a vacuum. I could feel the crunch of the grass and twigs beneath my feet but heard no sound. I wondered if he spoke if it would be a silent whisper for me to try and decipher. I came to a stop at the edge of the patio. In three steps I could be up there with him, but something told me to stop where I was and remember why I had been coming over here to begin with.

“Hi,“ I said.

He looked at me with a blank gaze, so I tried again.

“Um, Hello?”

Again, nothing registered on his face. His stare was so empty I thought he could be a corpse. Of course, Vampires are generally that anyway.


He smiled. “Konnichiwa.”

This he understood. I only knew it from watching anime. On there it pretty much meant hello or greetings.

I pointed to my house. “I’m your neighbor. Nora.”

He looked over there and nodded. “Ah, Nola.”

“Nora,“ I corrected.

Again a nod. “Nola.”

This was going nowhere. I tried something different and a little closer. I pointed behind him to his house, where the party was going full tilt. “Having a party?”

He looked at me even more confused, then smiled, nodding his head vigorously. “Nola.”

I sighed. This was just great. It appeared he neither understood nor spoke English. No matter if you looked at him as a hot guy or vampire, in both areas you were screwed. Trying to figure out if he had the tattoo was going to be near impossible, unless I just reached out and ripped his shirt open. Despite my anger over invasion of privacy it seemed like a nice idea. After all, he was very cute, and his white school boy shirt had two buttons already unfastened at the top. I could see his collar bone and the very beginnings of his chest, but not enough to tell if he was tattooed there.

He must have noticed my gaze because he looked at me with a little smile. He touched his head and said something like “Koko omotemuki.”

Now I was the one not understanding. “Huh?” I looked around to see if there was anyone nearby to help translate, but the party was inside not out here. “English?” I asked in desperation.

“Ah, English,“ he nodded, and then shook his head back and forth. I took this to mean no.

It was ridiculous, but just my luck. Meet hot guy, can’t talk to him. It figures. So, in the most desperate way of thinking I pulled out all the stops. Pointing at him, I asked, “Vampire?”

He scrunched up his nose and squinted his eyes almost to the point of closing. He shrugged and shook his head back and forth again. Clearly he didn’t understand.

“Filthy perverted bloodsucker?”

The confusion on his face was laughable.

“Oh to hell with this,” I said, and spun on my heel to walk off in exasperation. I had made it halfway to my yard when he called out to me.

“Understand English fine.”

I quickly turned back to him, my face flushing about fifty shades of red.

“I was just having some fun with you,“ he smiled.

I noticed his lips were moist and his teeth perfect white. I wanted to punch him in the face. Instead, I gave him my fiercest look. “Screw you. You understand that?” and stalked off so mad I could have pulled the stake out the back of my pants and stabbed him from there.

Continue to Ep. 8

Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D Aronson. All Rights Reserved.

Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 6


Vampire Boys Of Summer (Re-vamped) Main Page

Episode 6: Loveless

I ventured downstairs around eight o’clock. Mom had left some meatloaf and potatoes in the microwave for me before heading off to work. How she managed to drink all day and then sober herself up enough to work the night shift at Walmart was beyond me. I heated up the food, but looking at the ketchup on top of the meatloaf turned my stomach. It made me think of the Asian man with the sneer and pointed fangs.

I returned to my room and decided to take a shower before heading next door. I needed something to steady my nerves. Part of me wanted to call Angela and tell her what had happened, but instead I just laid my cell phone on the bed and headed across the hall to the bathroom. I was so freaked out even the running water in the shower seemed menacing and intrusive. After a while, I scared myself into thinking I was being watched. I crossed my arms over my breasts and tried to turn away from the shower door, but I found myself looking over my shoulder, fearing that at any minute the vampire would come lunging through the glass just to get to me. And then I would be like that girl in the puzzle, helpless and hypnotized, a willing victim to the powerful creature of darkness.

I turned off the water, slid open the shower door and grabbed a towel off the rack. If anyone was in the room they were only going to catch a quick glance at me. I have never been self-conscious about my body, but I’m no exhibitionist either. I had worn tight or revealing outfits at times, maybe to go to a show or something, but I had never felt so exposed in all my life. I wrapped the towel around me and dashed into my bedroom. I closed and locked the door. Turning towards the bed, I noticed my cellphone was gone.

I froze to the spot. I knew I had put it on the bed. But now it wasn’t there. My eyes scanned the room. Perhaps my bathroom freakout was warranted after all. Someone had been here watching. And now they had taken my cellphone. I walked over to the window and looked through the blinds at the house next door. There were some lights on and I could see some movement in one of the rooms, but no one was outside. I heard the echoing sound of a tinkling bell from behind me, and I spun to the sound, dropping the towel in the process. Naked, I grabbed up the stake from the vampire kit still on the bed and scanned the room. There was no one there. Again, the bell sounded, soft and distant. It was my cellphone. Sitting on top of my dresser, plugged into the charger.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I had plugged it in before I headed to the shower and had just forgot about it. I went to the dresser and opened the top drawer. I grabbed some fresh underwear and slipped into them as quick as I could. Next drawer down, dark pants and a black tank top advertising an X-Japan concert my dad had taken me to in New York a couple years back. I turned away to grab my shoes and the bell sounded again. It was a cellphone notification of some kind. I woke up the phone and didn’t see anything to alert me to email or a message or anything. I hit the home button and pulled up the last used applications. The one at the top was the camera. I clicked it and the app opened to my photo gallery which was normal if you had just taken a picture. The top photo in the gallery brought me to a breathless stop. It was the picture of a tattooed moon, encircled by bloody vines, or perhaps veins. Under it were the words “Loveless”.

The first thing I thought was that was the name of my favorite song by Luna Sea, but then came the realization that this tattoo was on a boy’s hairless chest. And I knew for a fact I hadn’t taken it. I pulled up the tag info on the picture. It had been taken only a few short minutes ago, which meant there had been a boy in my room with a loveless tattoo and the balls to let me know he’d been there. But if he had thought to scare me with this, he was mistaken. Now I was pissed. I stuck the stake down the back of my pants and covered it with my shirt. I put the holy water in my front pocket and removed the crucifix from my dad’s vampire kit. looped it around my neck, letting it drop on its chain just out of sight down my shirt. I snatched the cell from the dresser and took one last look at the photo before sliding the phone in pocket. It was time to stake that pervert right through his tattoo.

Keep reading. Continue to Ep. 7

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D Aronson.

Ghost Boy Blues 8

I approach him with caution, stepping on tip toe as if I’m trying not to be heard or seen. I tend to forget sometimes I am neither. No one notices me as I walk towards his desk, his back turned to me. He doesn’t hear my approach and it feels weird to be moving among a classroom where no one knows you even exist. They didn’t take notice of me when I was alive and they certainly have kept it up now that I’m a spirit.

I am standing at his back, reaching out, my fingers nearly touching his shoulder. For a moment , I am afraid of what will happen if I try to use his body as a host for my spirit. Will my soul be the dominant one and shove his to the side so that I will be in control? Or will I be a helpless observer, a mere presence within him that can’t control any aspect of his physical form? Possibly, we would coexist, but would be be aware of each other, or would our two personalities meld and mesh into one? Heaven forbid, I could even be trapped in that one body forever. Unable to escape and roam free again.

I pull my hand back. Though he seems the perfect boy to be, I’m not sure I want to be perfect forever. I just want to let the girl of my dreams know I adore her and maybe have the chance to have her adore me back. I’ve seen how she admires him. How he makes her smile and laugh. This may be my one and only chance to know firsthand of her affections. I used to sit in my seat dreaming I could kiss a girl like her. Now, here’s my last chance and I’m still too chicken to act.

I take a deep breath. Screw it. I’m not to going to blow this. I thrust my hand towards the boy’s back. I touch his skin, but cannot feel it. I am sinking into him, being pulled now by a force that compels me to become a part of this person. I am passing into him like smoke from a cigarette inhaled into the lungs. For a split second, his body jerks as if it knows an intruder has arrived, but then settles down and lets me in.

Once inside, I attempt to move his frame, and I tell myself to move his hand, but it’s now my hand too, so it obeys my command to scratch the crotch of his (my?) pants. I jerk the hand back quickly. It’s weird to feel his body. It’s like I’m touching someone else and it makes me feel violated somehow. I look around the room and know the head of this body is turning with me.

The other students seem to find this unusual. My host must be a very attentive student and not given n to distractions. Some of them curious looks on their faces. None of the faces belong to the girl I want. She is not in this class. I will have to wait out this period before going in search of her.

It’s then I feel a push, as if someone has just given me a shove in the chest. But its not something physical. This body hasn’t moved. No, this has come from within. The host is fighting back.

Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 5


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5: Puzzle Freak

The first thing I noticed as I stepped from my yard into theirs was the absence of noise. It was like I had stepped into a vacuum, where even sound was afraid of being this close to vampires. I couldn’t hear the light breeze through the trees, though I could see them swaying. No birds, no creature made a sound on this property, and I have to admit it made me a little nervous.

Still, I went up the front porch steps and raised my hand to knock. I hesitated, wondering what I thought I was doing. I had just gotten home from school. What little make up I started the day off with was now gone, my hair was a mess, and I was in jeans and t-shirt; not exactly following the ‘how to meet hot guys’ guidelines. I shrugged and knocked anyway. For a moment it didn’t make a sound, and I thought maybe I should just give this up, but then I heard the noise of my knuckles rapping the door. No matter that it came about thirty seconds after I actually knocked. I listened close, hoping to hear footsteps or a voice telling me, “wait a minute, I’m coming.” Anything to tell me there were no vampires here; that I had been wrong. But no one came. I debated whether to knock louder, and in the end I decided to try the door handle myself.

I put my hand on the door and it was ice cold. Perhaps the AC was running overtime in there, but I didn’t think so. There were no window units and I didn’t see central air units outside anywhere. I tried the knob but it was locked. I decided to go around back, maybe knock there.

The backyard was spacious with a concrete patio and in-ground pool. A row of hedges lined a back fence that separated our properties, but the shrubs were barren, and sure enough I could see mom lying out in her bikini in our back yard. I could tell by the rise and fall of her breasts that she had fallen asleep as usual. Part of me wanted to scream her name just to see how drunk she was, but before I could I saw I wasn’t alone on this side of the hedge. A man was sitting at a glass topped table on the patio working a jigsaw puzzle. A large umbrella was mounted in the center of the table, shielding him from the bulk of the sun’s rays. He didn’t seem to notice me at first, but when he did, his head came up so slow it made me think of those old automaton gypsy fortune telling machines they had at the fair when I was like nine. He stared at me with a curious look, his eyes dark and intense, half hidden by stringy black hair that hung down in his face. He tilted his head one way and then the other, before beckoning me to him. My head was screaming not to do it, but something bolder inside made me approach his table. He held up a puzzle piece and handed it towards me as if he wanted me to place it for him. His smooth pale skin made him seem almost unnatural, and I hesitated. With an impatient jerk of his hand he shoved the piece at me. I took it from him and looked down at the puzzle he was working on.

It was bizarre, like something out of a nightmare. The unfinished image clearly suggested a view of hell, with writhing, tormented bodies, some entwined in reckless abandon, others twisting in the talons of demonic figures. At the center, a tall dark presence drank the blood of several people at once, all of them held fast in his gaze and grip. Where the puzzle piece was missing there was a young girl about the same age as myself . Her body was turned towards the terrifying figure, and she must have been looking up at him rapturously, but she didn’t have a head. It was the missing piece.

I looked in my hand and turned it over. Sure enough, the piece I held was the girl’s head, and looking at it I saw in her eyes a look of adoration and helplessness. I looked at the man behind the card table. His Asian eyes held no malice, but something within told me this guy did not wish good things to befall me. A slight sneer crossed his thin lips. His mouth began to open. He made a sound in his throat but it wasn’t speech. It was a guttural kind of moan and his lips seemed to curl back to show me the only teeth he had were two pairs of fangs. His sneer turned into the scariest smile I had ever seen. I dropped the puzzle piece and bolted.

I ran across the yard and to my front door as if the devil were on my heels. I didn’t even bother with my book bag. I slammed the door behind me and threw the deadlock in place. I kept waiting to hear the man’s body slam into the solid oak of the doorframe, but he never did. I wasn’t even sure if he got up from the table. I didn’t care to look back. I’d been too freaked out.

I went through the dining room towards the back of the house. Looking out onto our patio, I saw mom was still sleeping one off. The guy next door was nowhere to be seen, but his macabre puzzle was still on the table. Thinking he was on his way over, I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room; my dad’s vampire kit laid out and open on the bed. If anyone came through that door they were going to get hit with a one two punch of holy water and wooden stake. But no one came. I sat on the bed as the night began to fall. I heard mom come in and rumble around in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if she was fixing dinner or a new drink, but I wasn’t about to come out my room to find out. I was waiting for pitch dark so I could go stake that puzzle working, blood sucking freak.

Continue Reading: Episode 6

“Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D. Aronson. All Rights Reserved.