SO, I’M STANDING THERE, swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane, and I can't help but wonder, “What in the world is going on these days?” I mean, I thought I had mind-controlled this guy to mind his own business, but apparently not. Is it because I've been chugging animal blood instead of the human stuff? My mind-control mojo seems to be going down the drain. First, it was Chloe—although maybe Casper really did break the mind compulsion on her—and now it's this kid. So, now any random teenager can resist my compulsion? It's getting ridiculous!Suddenly, one of the customers pipes up, “Hey, what gives you the balls to bother our man?” The boy let go of my collar, and the angry customer hops down from his stool, standing between us like some kind of bouncer. The kid who'd grabbed me is now face to face with a burly dude, whose unbuttoned grey shirt reveals a chest covered in a tangled mix of grey and white hair. He's all up in the kid's face, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to c
So I pushed open the front door, easing my way into the dark living room, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. And there he was, Casper, sitting all cross-legged on the couch, his face bathed in the eerie glow of the muted TV. I tried my damnedest to tiptoe past him, but, well, the guy had the ears of a bat, I swear. “I wasn't expecting you to come back,” he said, all casual-like. I rolled my eyes and frowned, trying to keep my voice down while still being my usual snarky self. “Maybe your brain's cogs are just a little rusty. You did invite me back, remember?” He smirked, looking all smug. “Oh, my cogs are just fine, thank you very much. But I do recall telling you to come back early, not in the middle of the damn night.” I pouted, lying through my teeth. “I got drunk and lost my way. It's not my fault, you know.” Casper just shrugged, like he didn't give a rat's ass. “Alright, whatever. But hey, come take a look at this.” He waved me over, and I figured I might as well play
I was perched on the edge of her bed, holding her delicate hand in mine, tracing gentle circles on her soft skin with my thumb. Her chest rose and fell like a calm sea, the faintest whisper of breath escaping her parted lips. Even in sleep, her face wore a sorrowful expression, like a painting of a forlorn princess.Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't like I was trying to be Prince Charming or anything. Truth was, I felt more like the villain in her story - the big bad wolf who'd huffed and puffed and done some serious damage.Just as I was getting used to the whole sleeping beauty scene, her eyelids began to flutter. Panic shot through me like an espresso straight to the veins. "Oh, no, no, no... don't wake up!" I pleaded silently, every muscle in my body tensing like a cat about to bolt.See, I didn't exactly want her to wake up and see me looming over her, my face just inches from hers. Let's be real, it's not the prettiest mug to wake up to, especially after the whole biting fiasco
SO, HERE I AM, sprawled out on the cold, damp floor of a dark cave, naked as the day I was born. My tiny hands are cuffed with these gigantic chains that look like they could hold down a whole friggin' ship! I let out a groan that makes a wounded bear sound like a whimpering puppy. Every bone in my body screams in agony; it's like a sledgehammer-wielding madman has gone to town on me.As I try to move, the pain just won't quit. I reach for the keys to freedom, lying oh-so-close on the cave floor. But my hands are shaking like leaves in a hurricane, weighed down by the chains and that ceaseless, pounding pain. I have to wait it out, waiting for my secret superpowers to swoop in and patch me up. I know they'll stitch my broken bones, mend my torn flesh, and silence that shrieking pain.So, I lay there, wincing and writhing on the ground, my eyes tracing over the bloody remnants of my, shall we say, “transformations.” The cave walls are splattered with dried blood, like some abstract pain
I'LL BE HONEST, FOLKS—my blood runs colder than an Arctic river at that moment. This isn't going to end well.I cock my head to the side, my lips forming a thoughtful 'O.' Now, what have I called him again? Oh, right—Mr. Bean Head and his glorious bald dome. I've really gone and stirred the pot now, haven't I?“I say I want a mug of beer!” I chuckle nervously, trying to backpedal faster than a clown on a unicycle. But my new friend isn't buying it. Not one bit.“No, no,” he growls, his chest heaving like a stormy sea. “What did you call me?”I clear my throat, scrambling for a way to defuse the situation. “Uh, I said, Mr. Blonde Head!” I lie, hoping he'll buy it.“But... I'm not a blonde,” he says, his brow furrowed in confusion.Well, if he wants the truth, I'll give it to him. My lips curl into a mischievous smirk. Oh, this is going to be good. “If you're not a blonde,” I say, drawing out the moment, “then that means you're a...”I pause, letting the tension build like a pressure co
SO HERE I AM, FEELING like the cat that got the cream as I lap up the rich, honey-like blood. My serpentine tongue savors every sweet drop, like it's the nectar of the gods. I can't get enough, but eventually, the poor guy's body goes limp in my grasp, so I let him drop. His glassy eyes stare up at me, so I gently close them. I'm not a complete monster, you know?I let out a long, satisfied breath, then hop up onto the bar counter, my gaze sweeping over the rows of glittering bottles. So many choices! I can't decide which one to go for, so I do a little “eeny meeny miny moe” until my fingers land on a fancy-looking bottle of Johnnie Walker. “Aha!” I exclaim. The thick, curvaceous glass and the swirly pattern on the label catch my eye, so I figure, Why the heck not?I grab the bottle, jump back down to the ground, and crack it open. As I take a long, deep swig, the sweet, bubbly liquid dances on my tongue. I can't help but let out a contented sigh. “Next time, you won't argue with me w
SO, THE GIRLS ARE STANDING THERE, looking around the mansion with wide-eyed expressions, like they can't believe what they're seeing. It's a mix of amazement and, let's be real, a healthy dose of fear.Meanwhile, I'm huffing and puffing as I run down the stairs, my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest. The girls are still gawking at me, probably wondering where the heck I came from and why I'm acting so spooked.“Thank you,” I manage to say, trying to keep my voice steady. And before they can say anything, I just throw my arms around them both and give them a big ol' bear hug. I mean, I'm so grateful they haven't ditched me outside, and now that they're here, this place doesn't seem quite as lonely.They kinda awkwardly pat my back, and when I let go, they say, “You're welcome.”The one who isn't too keen on helping me glances around the mansion and says, “Wow, this is a really nice place.”“Thanks,” I reply. “It's my parents', but they're away dealing with some important stuf
AS WE CHATTED AWAY LIKE OLD FRIENDS, Scarlett and Winter shared their stories, their voices filled with a mix of wonder and confusion. Winter leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, like she was sharing a secret around a crackling campfire. “Now get this, Casper – Scarlett couldn't see this house from the outside. Not even a tiny peek! But the moment she steps foot inside, poof! There it is, big as day, like it was playing some crazy game of hide-and-seek with her all along!” So, I kept up the act, pretending to be totally blown away by the whole thing. Scarlett, she just frowned and shook her head, like she was trying to work out a really tough puzzle. “I know, right? It's super weird. I just can't make sense of it.” Her fingers fidgeted with the soft cushions of the couch, like she was looking for something solid to hold on to in this storm of strangeness. “You know, maybe the house was there all along, but I guess I never paid it any mind before – isn't that j