The Dorkiest Vampire

School passed quickly and Halloween was quickly approaching in our area. We had two factions in Merridick when it came to Halloween. We had the very evangelical religious groups who protested that Halloween was a celebration of the Devil. They typically held an “Autumnfest” celebration in their church parking lots or instead of candy, handed out religious tracts to elementary school kids about how they were going to Hell because they wanted to dress up like Spiderman and get free candy. Then there was the rest of us, who celebrated the holiday in the typical manner.

The weekend before Halloween was always a big deal around Merridick since the local library’s Storyteller’s Association got together and did a ghost tour around town, talking about the less than desirable aspects of the town’s history. They would mention the time in the early 1930s when a group of gangsters had robbed the bank downtown, shooting two tellers and taking half the money there. Our house and the many stories of St. François House were always major spots on the tour as well. Dad was a member of the association and usually dressed up as one of our ancestors, telling the story of our house. I wondered if the Vespasien’s would be willing to have their home on the tour. In years past, no one owned the home, so it was easy to put it on the tour, but we weren’t sure if the family would be okay with the number of tourists and townspeople venturing past their house for three nights straight.

“So… have they come to talk to your parents about the ghost tour yet?” I asked Mick that Monday at lunch.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Mom and Dad are big into promoting local arts and stuff, so they were okay with it… I don’t know how I feel about all of those people walking around our front yard, though…”

“Don’t worry,” I shrugged. “They just want to see the house and get scared a little bit.”

“I guess,” Mick shrugged.

“Are you going trick-or-treating?” I asked. “I wanted to go this year, but my parents said I’m too old since I’m in high school now.”

“No,” Mick shook his head. “I haven’t gone trick-or-treating since I was nine.”

“Why’s that?” I frowned.

“I got separated from my mom and uh… ran into some people,” Mick replied. “After that, my parents didn’t want me going out that night. Not alone anyway. And Dad usually had to work that night and Mom had to stay home to give out candy, so I was stuck at home because it wasn’t like I had any friends to go with me.”

“Sorry,” I frowned.

“It’s okay,” Mick shrugged.

“I don’t know what I’m going to be doing that night,” I admitted. “I mean, there’s a ton of us in the house to hand out candy. And it doesn’t help that most kids are too afraid of the house or don’t like walking up the long drive for a couple of candy bars. Ritchie probably has some party he’ll be at. It must be annoying to be popular.” Mick only nodded. “What about you? Any other plans?”

“Mom was hoping I’d have something to go to, like a party or something like that,” Mick sighed. “She wants me to have tons of friends and be the center of attention at school or something like that. I guess my parents will be handing out candy or something… It’ll be just another lame night at the Vespasien house, I guess.”

“Maybe you could come over,” I suggested. “We usually watch a lot of scary movies. Vincent Price, Hitchcock… Abbott and Costello… stuff like that. There’s popcorn and candy… I’m sure my family wouldn’t mind. And we get to eat whatever candy is left over, which is great since few people come and we don’t skimp on the good stuff.”

“I’ll ask and see what they say,” Mick shrugged.

Mick’s parents apparently didn’t have too much trouble with the thought of him spending his Halloween at our place, since they dropped him off almost immediately after school. Ritchie was staying over at one of his friend’s homes after the party and so Mom had generously offered for Mick to stay in Ritchie’s room. Dad and Grandpa hadn’t been too keen about the idea of a strange boy spending the night in their house, not too far from the bedroom of their young teenage daughter and granddaughter. However, Mom and Grandma had convinced them that it would be too dangerous for the Vespasiens or anyone else to be driving Mick home so late at night, especially considering the type of mischief area kids liked to make out of boredom.

Mick himself didn’t look very thrilled about the impromptu sleepover our mother’s had arranged. He had two suitcases for staying over one night, plus a bag that contained his various medicines and vitamin water bottles his mother said he had to drink every so often. Ritchie smirked at him when he arrived, showing the Mick to his room and informing him of things he wasn’t supposed to touch while he was there. Honestly, Mick looked completely out of place in Ritchie’s room, which prominently displayed pictures of fast cars and big posters of celebrity women Ritchie thought was hot. Mick looked almost terrified at the prospect of spending the night in a room where various pinups were going to be smiling down at him all night.

I took Mick downstairs to play video games for a while, hoping to put him at ease. The poking and prodding of my family had turned Mick back into his cripplingly shy self and he hadn’t uttered a word since his mother had pulled her car into park in our driveway. Mom was trying to be nice to him and kept asking us if we wanted to dig into the Halloween candy early. Right before supper, Ritchie crept into the den and jumped out from behind the couch, making both Mick and I scream in surprise. He chuckled and laughed then stood up. I eyed him curiously, already in his costume.

“Guess what I’m supposed to be?” Ritchie smirked. I glanced at his dark cloak, black attire, and then up to his fake fangs and the not so subtle fake blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

“You’re really going as something as lame as a vampire?” I sighed.

“Hey, all the chicks are putting out for vampires nowadays,” Ritchie smirked. He ruffled my hair. “See you two dorks tomorrow.” He strutted out of the room and I turned to Mick.

I was honestly surprised by Mick’s reaction. He looked absolutely furious, his hands balled into fists. I was curious as to what had set Mick off. He was typically a calm person, never even really saying a bad word about the bullies who tormented him at school, but he looked ready to rip my brother to shreds. I wasn’t sure if it was because he had called us dorks or what exactly he had said to set Mick off. Mick had to know Ritchie was only playing, but he seemed to be taking my brother seriously.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, worriedly.

“Nothing,” Mick said quietly, calming down.

“If you wanted to go to the party, maybe I could ask my mom if Ritchie…” I began.

“I don’t want to go to the party,” Mick insisted.

“Was it that Ritchie tried to scare us?” I asked. “He’s just being a jerk. He doesn’t mean any harm. He just acts like a goofball sometimes.”

“It’s not that,” Mick frowned.

“Then what?” I asked.

“I don’t like Halloween, that’s all,” Mick shrugged. “The idea of people in costumes… pretending to be something they’re not… doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve always hated the whole holiday. Nothing good seems to happen on Halloween.”

“Well, Ritchie didn’t mean anything,” I assured him.

“I know,” Mick sighed. “I’m hoping that, for once, our house doesn’t get egged this year.”

“Bad experiences, huh?” I smiled softly. “At least you don’t have teenagers daring each other to poke around your creek. We always have one group every year who tricks some middle-schooler or freshman by telling them the creek out back sucks up people’s souls. Grandpa and Dad spent every Halloween chasing kids off our property with flashlights. It’s gotten old quick.”

“I might have some fun seeing that,” Mick smirked.

We had a nice dinner and then we all gathered in the den to watch movies with Mom and Dad alternating on candy duty. Mick took a seat on the couch between my grandparents while I plopped myself down in the floor. We started watching movies around five-thirty, immediately after supper, and then until around eleven that night. After that, everyone went up to bed extremely tired. Mick was about falling all over himself with sleep and I had to help him a little up the stairs since he was so tired. I went to bed myself and tucked myself under the covers, hoping I would be able to get to sleep quickly.

I did fall asleep rather soundly and rather easily, but I was awoken later by strange creaking noises out in the hallway. Since our house was old, it wasn’t strange to hear strange noises around it at night, what I had always been told was just the house settling. I looked at might clock, seeing it was slightly after midnight and then attempted to go back to sleep. However, the creaking intensified, becoming slightly louder with each minute. Then I heard another noise, like soft sniffling. Unlike the creaking noises, however, the sniffling wasn’t coming from inside the house but instead sounded like it was coming from the back gardens, below my bedroom window.

I got up and walked over to the window, making sure there weren’t any people milling about in our backyard. I couldn’t see anyway from where I was standing, so I threw on my robe and decided maybe I should just investigate the strange noises for myself. I would do my normal pattern of creeping around and checking the windows on the front floor of the house. If the noises persisted, I decided I would have to break down and wake my parents, telling them they might want to investigate any strange activity in the house.

I stepped out of my bedroom, closing the door quietly, and then turned around to see a slight glow emanating from around the corner. I stepped forward tentatively and rounded the corner, to find Mick, shining a flashlight up toward the trap door, leading to our attic. Our house had been built around the same time Mick’s had, so much of the floor plans were similar. I wasn’t surprised that Mick could easily navigate my house so easily in the dark, but I was surprised that he was out of bed and milling around when he had been so sleepy only an hour or so earlier.

“What you doing here?” I whispered quietly. Mick jumped slightly, startled, and then turned to face me.

“You heard the noises too?” Mick whispered nervously.

“I heard the creaking floorboards from you walking around out here,” I replied. He looked at me fearfully and then shone the flashlight up toward the attic.

“I heard noises,” Mick said worriedly. “It sounded like someone was walking around above me and crying… like there was someone in the attic…”

“Ritchie hasn’t been telling you all of the creepy stories about your house to scare you, has he?” I sighed.

“What stories?” Mick said, confused.

“People think our house is haunted,” I sighed.

“Why?” Mick asked worriedly.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” I replied. “We need to get back to bed before we waking everyone else up…”

“But I heard something,” Mick insisted. “I know it. It started in the attic and then went outside…”

“What are you talking about?” I sighed.

“It sounded like someone was crying outside,” Mick sighed.

“There is nothing going on, okay?” I sighed. We were both silent for a moment and Mick seemed nearly convinced that everything he had heard was all in his imagination.

At that precise moment, a shrill noise echoed through the hallways, that of a woman sobbing. It sounded distinctly as though it was coming from outside in the gardens. Mick looked genuinely fearful that there was something out there. I figured it was just another stupid kid who had heard the legends and was pulling some sort of Halloween prank. Rather than wake my parents, I decided to face whoever it was out in the garden myself. I started heading downstairs and found the light of the flashlight on my back. I turned my head slightly to find that Mick was following me as I quietly headed down the stairs and to the back door.

“Riley! You don’t know what’s out there! It could be anything!” Mick gasped worriedly.

“It’s probably just someone having a laugh,” I grimaced, my feet hitting the cold wooden floor of the main hallway on the first floor. Mick rushed up so he would be right behind me. The whole thing felt very Scooby-Doo.

“What if it’s not something playing a joke?” Mick asked worriedly. “What if it’s a psycho killer or something?”

“Don’t worry,” I hushed him. We opened the backdoor with a slight creak and the headed out onto the wooden porch then onto the soft, mossy ground.

There appeared to be nothing and no one there. Mick shown his flashlight around, which didn’t find anything either. However, I had to admit the backyard was a little creepy at night. There was the faint sound of the wind chimes my grandmother hung near the garden shed mixed in with the croaks of frogs in the rustling of the nearby creek. Spanish moss hung from the ancient, twisted willow trees behind the house and I ventured through the gardens, out the wrought iron gate and toward the banks of the creek.

“I don’t like it out here,” Mick told me softly.

“I don’t think I’ve shown you the creek before,” I said, pointing it out to him. “It’s been dammed up pretty well and we usually don’t have to worry about flooding. Most of the water collects further down in the swamp, but we don’t head out there. There might be alligators. We had one come up in the yard when I was really little and Mom wouldn’t let me and Ritchie out to play until he swam back home.”

Mick nodded and scanned the surrounding area. I found it odd that he was no longer shining the flashlight around, looking deep into the forest. I didn’t understand why he’d be doing so because it was pitch black outside. Once my eyes adjusted, I could barely make out the contours of the creek, yet Mick seemed to be able to see beyond that. I figured his eyes probably had better nightvision since his family seemed to like it darker than normal. There was a slight rustling in the trees beyond the creek and Mick grabbed my arm tightly.

“We shouldn’t be out here,” Mick said. “We should be getting inside.”

“There’s nothing out here, okay? I don’t know what you heard…” I sighed. “We probably shouldn’t have watched so many scary movies before going to bed, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mick nodded sharply. “Let’s get inside.” Before I could agree, he had basically shoved me back into the house and looked the door. I eyed him warily as he locked up the house. It was then I noticed he was wearing Batman footy-pajamas.

“You’re wearing footy pajamas…” I mentioned slightly.

“My feet get cold easily,” Mick said, looking completely mortified. I felt bad for bringing it up, seeing how self-conscious he felt all of the sudden.

“I think they’re really cool,” I told him.

“You don’t have to lie,” Mick said quietly.

“I’m not,” I replied. “Do you think they have Wonder Woman?”

“Maybe,” Mick blushed.

“Well, we should get to bed,” I sighed.

“Yeah,” Mick nodded.

We each went our separate ways and said goodbye until we would see each other at the breakfast table the following morning. I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about, but for some reason, I felt like locking my bedroom door and making sure the locks on my windows were shut before I crept into bed. I fell asleep quickly, but not before the sound of a soft sobbing whine could be heard just below my window.