I was walking home from school on an unusually dark afternoon when I felt a pair of eyes staring right at me. I looked around uneasily to find … the thin-looking cat of crotchety old Mr. Barnus.
“Hey there,” I asked, “what are you doing so far from home?”
I was a little surprised, for the cat rarely left its owner’s yard. Even stranger, it was usually shy, yet today it wasn’t retreating from me but just sat there softly hissing.
“Ummm,” I said awkwardly, “what do you want?”
At this, the cat walked a few steps away, paused, and looked back. I moved toward it, and it took another step.
“OK,” I thought, “it wants me to follow it.” So I did. To my amazement, we ended up at the front door of Mr. Barnus.
“Why here?” I asked the cat.
“Because we need you,” came a voice behind me.
I jumped and turned to see Mr. Barnus, looking cranky as ever.
“Need you for tea!” he continued.
“Not tea,” I moaned. “I hate tea!”
“Come!!” said Mr. Barnus fiercely.
Seeing no way out, I followed Mr. Barnus into his house. I coughed and gagged on the dust, but he didn’t notice. We entered a room with two tea cups on a table. I sat down and looked inside one cup to see a weird red liquid.
“Drink!” said Barunus, and I drank. It had a peculiar taste, and I felt as though I knew it from somewhere.
“Nice, isn’t it?” asked Barnus. “I do like the taste of blood in the afternoon … one of the better things in life!”
“Ughhh!” I yelled in disgust, dropping the tea cup. The cat licked the spilled blood as I looked at an outraged Barnus.
“That was my best tea cup!” he shouted.
“S-sorry,” I stammered.
“Nevermind,” said Barnus. “Have a lump of sugar.” I took a bite and found a chewy substance. “Sugar-coated eyeballs…so delicious!” he said.
“Ughhh!” I yelled again, spitting out the sugary eyeball. “What’s with you and body parts?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard for a vampire to get some, so I try to savor the mo—“
“You’re a vampire?!” I shrieked. “But vampires aren’t real!”
“Well, of course, we’re real,” said Burnus wickedly. “I’m afraid I’m not big on drinking directly from the body, so I pour blood into a cup.”
“Why’d you invite me here?” I asked.
“I like young blood,” snarled Barnus. I screamed and fell off my chair. Barnus lunged forward, trying to bite me. I scrambled out of his reach and dashed toward the door. Moments later, I was in the safety of my own house. Breathing hard, I ran to my bedroom, where I stayed for 24 hours.
A few months have passed, and I’ve settled down. I’m even planning to visit Mr. Barnus soon for some more tea. When I check the mirror, I see the tiniest of fangs beginning to grow.