Scary Dead Things - 02 Read Free

both for attracting the ladies as well as beating the tar out of flabby shits like me; however, it's a bad thing for being flexible, as in flexible enough to be able to reach around and pull my meager little weapon out.
     
    The fork itself didn't do much. I mean, I'm sure it stung a little . Getting stabbed isn't fun, no matter what the weapon. But using a kitchen utensil against a vampire is a lot like using a penknife against a grizzly bear - unless, that is, it happens to be a special kitchen utensil. Fortunately for me, it was. After a second or two, I could smell it. Another few, and I could see it. And I'm definitely sure Samuel felt it.
     
    * * *
     
    Two weeks ago, I had been sitting at home, sipping on a liter of refrigerated blood, just minding my own business. I was relaxing on a Monday night following a long day of coding. I work as a video game developer. I did it during my life, and I still do it during my undeath. I like my job and all, but there is a small part of my mind that likes to remind me that I'm vampire. Not only that, but I'm a legendary type of vampire, a legendary type of vampire who is also the head of his own fucking coven...and yet I was still a goddamned wage slave. I had figured that once I took over the Village Coven, it was going to be one big party after another, with maybe an orgy or two in between. But noooo. Sally, my so called partner, kept a tight reign on the coven’s bank books. I was lucky to score cab fare from her, much less live the life of avaricious abandon I so craved. But we'll get back to her later, as she also had a hand in the present day situation going on with Samuel.
     
    So there I was unwinding when one of my roommates, Tom, came in the door. Both of my roommates, Tom and Ed, are human. Kind of makes us a less attractive but significantly more fucked up version of Three’s Company . Anyway, Tom had spent the weekend at his parents' home in New Jersey ( also home to his slightly underage hottie of a sister, which has really nothing to do with the present situation. I just like to mention it ) and had then gone straight to his job in Manhattan, from where he was now returning.
     
    “I've got something new we can try!” he excitedly said after he tossed his sports jacket into the closet. I didn't even need to ask what he meant by that. Since being turned into a vampire some six months ago, my roommates had made it their mission in life to chart my powers and weaknesses. It was mostly the weaknesses they seemed to focus on, and thus, in addition to roommates and friends, I had to add torturers to the mental description I kept for both of them. Barely a week went by in which they didn't think of some new thing to stab, burn, or crush me with. My pain had become their hobby. Yeah, they both really needed to get laid.
     
    “What now?” I asked in a bored tone, hoping it might dissuade him.
     
    “This!” he replied, pulling an old fork out of his pocket.
     
    “Let me guess, you misunderstood my previous instructions and are now going to go fork yourself?”
     
    “Keep trying, Bill. In another century or two, you might grow a sense of humor that's actually funny,” he dryly remarked. “This here is not just a fork. It's silverware...you know, as in silver .”
     
    “So? You guys already tried silver. It didn't do jack-shit.”
     
    “Yeah, I know. But forget about that. That shitty little letter opener was just silver plated. I didn't really think it would work anyway.”
     
    “And yet,” I added, putting an edge to my voice, “it didn't stop you from stabbing me with it...repeatedly!”
     
    “Sorry. All in the name of science,” he continued. “But this is different, trust me. This weekend, my mom had some friends over, and she pulled out the good stuff. She inherited it from her grandmother. This is the real deal here. Pure, solid, you-could-melt-it-down-and-shoot-werewolves-with-it silver.”
     
    “So let me get this straight: you stole your