The Evening Man

Chapter 1

That night, I kept my eyes glued firmly to the television screen as my ex-girlfriend Nicole stormed throughout my apartment, packing up her things and occasionally breaking mine. Accidentally, I'm sure. I didn't saying anything about it, I was too focused on staying quiet and not presenting her with a target. 

It's not just a survival instinct. It's common sense. 

I didn't blame her for taking our breakup badly. It had to be rough finding out that what you thought was a happy relationship, was actually a constricting vise of mind numbing boredom. 

Nicole cut into my view of Little House on the Prairie (don't judge me), holding a golden ankle bracelet I'd gotten her for our three month anniversary. She tapped it with a perfectly manicured fingernail. "I'm keeping this."  

I waved my hand at her, trying to subtly encourage her to move out of the way. "That's fine. That is perfectly fine with me." 

"I want the picture frames too." She gave the living room a calculating look, mentally cataloging all of the items we'd accumulated during our relationship. Sorting the keepsakes from the detritus.  

I held up my hands, determined to offer her no resistance. Anything to get her to leave. "You can take whatever you want."  

Her eyes locked onto mine, and I sensed I might have said the wrong thing. "Do you even care that I'm leaving? Do you even care that it's over?" 

"Of course I do," I lied. "I'm torn up over this." I plastered a sincere, heartbroken expression on my face. 

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're a liar." 

"I'm not lying." 

"Who is she?" 

"Who is who?" I asked innocently. 

"Who is the bitch you're leaving me for?" she screamed, as she hurled the ankle bracelet at my head.  

"I know you were cheating on me!  Bastard, I know it!  You think you can treat people like this?" 

"Nicky, I have no clue what you're talking about!" I kicked myself mentally as I spoke.  I'd been certain I'd left no clues. "I'd never do that to you!" 

Nicole shrieked like a creature with a vocal range somewhere between a banshee and a bobcat. Her roundhouse caught me square in the eye, and sent me tumbling over my couch, onto the floor. "Asshole," she hissed, on her way out the door.  

I could only stare as she exited, dazed. 

"Love you," I moaned, before I dragged myself up.  

I'm Daniel Lich. I'm supposed to be a monster, but Nicole was scarier than I'd ever be. 

                                                              ***

I'm a Vampire. I try not to advertise that fact unless I'm on the job. Even then, I try to be as personable as possible. I think it's important to let people know I have a personality beyond the quirks particular to my species. It's okay to show a friendly face to others, even if they're food. 

Modern thinking like mine often surprises the various people I meet.  Most folks think that if you're a half-century old Lord of the Undead, you're pretty much entitled to do whatever you please. 

That might have been the case in the old days, centuries before the crusades, and way before my time.  Back then, Vampires had been a force of nature.  Like earthquakes and flash-floods.  All it took was one little bite and your dank little hamlet or village was, to put it mildly, screwed.