Friday Night

The clock provides much ambiance as I stare at the laptop screen. The cursor blinks slowly, with the document plastered with little ideas.

I need a solid plot line. And fast.

Something mysterious, yet addictive to read.

Melissa wants the idea written down, and a sample drabble by this Monday.

It’s currently Friday night.

I’m not one to procrastinate, but no ideas appeared lately. I’ve looked everywhere- nature, the small town an hour away- trying to fill some much needed inspiration.

I’ve even went to books.

Maybe that’s why I’m so late. I’ve read countless books this past week. From fantasy to sci fi, I tried to conjure a plot line that makes sense.

If only those were stand alone books.

So here I am, at a complete loss. I move the mouse slightly to awaken the screen in front of me. The time reads 12 am. It’s Saturday.

Only 1 more day until the deadline.

I can’t do this

I’m a failure

I close the laptop, sighing. That’s enough for now.

I head to the kitchen to make myself some tea. Opening the cabinet, I’m met with cobwebs.

Right- I need to go shopping.

The thought makes my stomach turn- I’d have to deal with people. Plus the drive is so long, I partially wish I would’ve bought a house closer to the town. But being alone in the middle of the woods is a comfort. Maybe I should have the main character live in the middle of nowhere.

I grab a pen and write the small idea down on a billing envelope.

Living far from civilization is a partially good thing. Even though it fuels my social anxiety, it keeps you in tune with nature. Hearing the owls hoot and the wolves howl- it’s a reminder that we really aren’t the only ones on this planet.

I close the cabinet, and look in the fridge instead. The sight is the same- with only sticks of butter and cheese on the top shelf.

I really need to go shopping. Shutting the fridge, I head to my bedroom to get ready for bed.

As I lay there, I stare at the ceiling. Why did I think being a writer was a great full time job?

No one told me the problems that lie, like barely having enough money to supply yourself. Or being forced to overwork yourself to the point of neglect.

I shut my eyes, hoping that I would be able to get somewhat of sleep tonight, even if my thoughts are keeping me awake. I feel myself slipping into slumber until a loud gunshot awakes me.

I open my eyes, groaning. I glance at the clock- 1 am. What in the world?

I stumble out of bed, dragging my feet to the front door. As I open it, another gunshot rings out.

“ the heck…”

The sky is dark, as it should be. The small porch light has moths fluttering all around it- everything seems normal.

As normal as a man on the foot of my stairs, bleeding out.

I stare at the corpse for a few seconds, contemplating what to do. Do I bring him to the hospital? Bury him? Who shot him? Is this a homicide? Should I call the police? What do I-

“ c- can you stop staring and help me for heavens sake…” the voice startles me out of thought, my attention focusing on him again.

“…right…” I stare, still in shock.

“ Lady I’m…b-bleeding out here…I’ll answer everything once I’m not on the verge of…death…”

That did make sense. It was at least human decency to help someone in need. I mentally facepalm myself, not having social interaction is killing me.

“ okay…how do I…”

“ I’ll walk, idiot hunter shot me in the shoulder. Just…help me up…”

I grab the man’s left arm, slowly lifting him up. He leans most of his weight into me as we walk into the house, mud and blood dripping onto the floor.

“ sit on the couch, I’ll get some supplies…”

“ wait…” he grunts, eyes piercing my own

“ you need to get this bullet out of my shoulder…my body will do the rest just….grab it..” his eyes are glossy, breathing shallow.

“…you can’t die on me…they think I’m the one who-“

“ I’m not going to die woman, just get the damn bullet out of me so I can heal properly…”

He snaps, eyes shut. I can see his fangs glistening with red.

Is he….

No no, not now.

Heal him. It’s totally easy pulling a bullet wound from a mysterious man that shows up at my door in the early wee hours of the morning.

Totally easy.

I rush to the bathroom, grabbing everything my eyes set upon. Gauze, bandaids, washcloth, rubbing alcohol- the list goes on. The last on my list is small tweezers. These definitely won’t work but I rather not use my hands for this.

When I return the man is still there, now shirtless. Now I can somewhat see him, he has sandy brown hair with tan skin to accommodate. And that wound…

But something is different. The wound is gone- completely healed. There’s blood still on the floor, with small beats on the carpet.

“ How…”

“ Hunter didn’t shoot too deep as I expected. Pulled them out…thanks I guess for trying to help but, I best be on my way.”

He stands up, his amber eyes glowing.

“ W-what are…you.? No one heals that quickly from a gunshot wound-“

“ Damn darling, I thought you were a little smarter than that. You seem like the bookworm. You’ve had to read something bout us. Do I have to shift to show you or something? Give you a little hint?”

His amber eyes gleam with a sadistic glow, with his smirk showing off his fangs. I’m cornered, about to be feasted upon.

“Y-you’re….a vampire…?” I whisper.

A look of disgust appears, him scoffing.

“No idiot, a werewolf.”

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