The air outside was cold and moist. Branches, heavy with ice, rocked back and forth in the late-autumn wind and with each gust, a shower of ice fell from the big maples and poured onto the ground with a glass-breaking shatter. An icy mist fell down on the grass, freezing each blade with a perfect shell of ice that continued to build through out the day.

Carrying a wicker basket full of greens and herbs, Autumn Skye pulled her hood closer to her red, wind-chilled cheeks. She scampered across the yard toward the ranch home, almost slipping on the shattered ice capsules that lay scattered across the yard.

The house was rather large with wood siding and trim. Wooden stairs led up to the front porch where the door stood between two pillars. The porch was open on three sides that were guarded by railings. Chairs and tables were variously placed on the roofed porch, creating somewhat of a crescent shape. In the middle of the atomically off crescent was a plain table, which served better as a footrest then a table.

Autumn proceeded up the stairs, careful not to slip on the accumulating ice, and onto the porch of the Skye residence, before heading inside the door. The hallway from the door to the kitchen was a mere five to six feet long. Autumn kicked off her boots and placed her coat on a hook and, basket still in hand, traveled through the front hall, as she liked to call it, and into the kitchen. She skittered across the cream-colored linoleum floor and set the basket down on the counter near the sink where she removed her dirty, worn garden gloves. With the water turned on to room temperature, she emptied the basket of greens into the sink to be washed.

Waiting for the collected herbs to become somewhat touchable, Autumn reached down under the sink and opened a wooden, handcrafted cupboard door and pulled out several jars and matching lids, the kind people use when canning foods and preserves, and set them on the gray, white, and black speckled countertop.

Above the sink, there was a string strung from two cupboards, one on each side of the double window that looked out into the front yard, with herbs of all sorts already hanging from it by rubber bands. Those plants only covered about half the ‘drying rack’, and Autumn had already gotten out several more bands to string up the next batch.

The phone rang, making Autumn’s heart almost skip a beat. She looked up and hurriedly dried her hands on a rag that hung from the cupboard door below before running over to pick up the phone.

“Athena,” she murmured, just before picking up the phone that hung on the South wall of the kitchen. “Hello?”

“Autumn! Hi! I’m glad I caught you,” Athena answered on the other line.

“Hi Athena. I am not doing much… just getting as many herbs as I can out of the garden before they turn into icicles,” Autumn said, smiling at her own comment, the way she usually does when she’s glad there’s someone around to hear them.

“It is really cold out today, huh… and pretty icy because when I walked outside and nearly fell on my butt!”

“O Goddess!” Autumn replied, laughing. “Well, anyway, I called just to let you know that the dinner tonight at the Second Emporium is off tonight ‘cause it’s so icy out. It’s not too safe to drive.” “Oh… that’s good,” said a relieved Autumn, “I wasn’t looking forward to driving in this!” “I didn’t think you would be, you slacker!” Athena teased. “Excuse me? Slacker? Who you calling Slacker?” Autumn tested, “I feel like living past today, thanks!” “Well, I hope you live past today---“ “Yeah, what would the world be like without me?” Autumn boasted, “Horrible, I’m sure!” “O man, I’m gonna let you go before you get into that ‘Autumn Rules’ speech again!” Athena groaned back in protest. “Ha ha ha! Okay then, I’ve got work to do, anyway!” “Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to you later, okay babe?” “Alright, bye!” compromised Autumn. “Buh-bye!” Athena said in farewell. Autumn hung up the phone and strolled back to the sink. She pulled a bundle of basil out of the sink and shook the excess water off before wrapping them in a paper towel… repeating the steps until the sink was empty. Then, she unwrapped the herbs and hung most of them from the string with the rubber bands. Autumn filled the jars that she had taken out of the cupboard earlier with sunflower oil and placed the remaining herbs of all different species into the oil-filled jars, tightly sealing them. She put the full jars back into the cupboard to wait for a week or so before being strained and placed into clean jars, only to wait longer before becoming the herb oil that Autumn had placed within each jar. The porch door opened and closed as someone entered the home. Autumn looked up and smiled and made her way to over to the hallway entrance, near the refrigerator, in her stocking feet. She peered around the corner and grinned at her love, Roque. “Hiya Darlin’!” she said, greeting her blonde-haired, blue-eyed husband. “Well, hey there Peaches,” he answered, running over to her after taking of his boots and hugging the much shorter woman. He was almost six foot three and had a defined build. His hair hung into his eyes and off the side, almost three inches down his face and in the back, it was down to the small of his neck. Autumn had told him he needed to cut it many times past several, but so far, she’s only managed a trim. “When are you going to cut your hair?” she said, giggling as Roque rubbed noses with her and laughed at the all too common comment. “Whenever I feel like it,” he replied stubbornly. “Well, when is that going to be?” “Hmmm…” he sighed, “I don’t know.” Loving the sarcastically disgusted look his wife was giving him, he looked upward at a strand of hair that hung in his face and smiled. “I like it!” “I know you do!” Autumn shot back, snickering. Pouting, Roque looked at her with is lip poked out, “Don’t laugh at me.” “O you big baby! You better tuck that lip in before a bird decides to take a shit on it!” Autumn squealed. “O knock it off. You’re always teasing me,” he replied, trying to sound sad. “That’s really touching, Roque, when you laugh between words.” “Yeah, I know, I try. What are you doing?” he asked, “I see your little plant string is full of… of… plants.” “It’s cold out,” Autumn informed, as if he didn’t know. She traveled back over to the counter and sat on it, making extra sure she didn’t hit her head on the cupboards above. “I got the rest of my herbs out of the garden outside.” “Oh, I see.” “Athena called,” she told Roque, as she looked down at her poorly groomed fingernails and frowned, “she said the dinner at the Emporium was off due to the weather.” “Did she now?” “Yeah… guess we’re stuck here with soup and sandwiches tonight. I wonder how you’ll survive,” Autumn said. “I think I’ll manage as long as you’re here,” he said. “O, just keep up the sweet talk and maybe I’ll forget about your hair!” Autumn spat out as she jumped from the counter top and landed on both feet with a thud. “Hey! I like my hair… and let me remind you. It is my hair!” Roque answered solemnly, strait face and all! Autumn moved into the living room, which was right on the other side of the counter. The living room could be viewed from the kitchen and the television was also placed in the living room so that it could be watched while cooking. A sofa was placed parallel with the west counters and a walk space in between them, four or five feet wide. Autumn plopped over the top of the navy blue couch and landed on its soft cushions, a perfect place for watching Monday night Raw that would be on in almost an hour. Next to the couch on the north, there was a coffee table with a three-foot tall fountain lamp. Further in the room, there was a navy love seat placed against the north wall, below the triple window. Across the room to the south, a stairway led spirally up the second floor and next to those, a grand piano stood in the corner. Speakers were strewn in several places around the room… Roque had to have his surround sound and DVD player. Their room was up the spiral stairs. “Hungry yet?” Autumn asked. “I’m hungry whenever you are,” answered Roque. “Well, I’m hungry!” Autumn stated bluntly. Autumn jumped back over the top of the couch and around the counter towards the refrigerator. She opened it and grabbed the sandwich meat out of the middle compartment drawer and some mayonnaise. She also grabbed a slice of Velveeta Sandwich Slice for Roque and some sliced onion for herself. “Roque,” she called, “what kind of soup do you want?” “I don’t care,” he answered, “your pick!” “Well, blah,” she murmured to herself, “my pick?” A smile crossed her face as the thought crossed her mind to grab the dreadful (in Roque’s point of view) tomato soup. “Nah,” she thought, “ that’s just mean.” Crouching low, Autumn opened the corner cupboard near the sink and pulled out the door that is hinged in the middle, exposing two shelves that turn and stocked with cans of various items. After grabbing a can of Chicken and Stars, Autumn closed the door and stood up, setting it down on the counter. “Oh shoot!” “What?” asked Autumn. “I forgot some papers back in town,” Roque stated, “back at the office. I’ve got to have them done tomorrow or the boss is going to ream me out big time!” He stood up out off the sofa and started through the kitchen towards the doorway with an ‘I don’t want to do this’ look. “Where do you think you’re going?” Autumn asked, all but pleased that her husband was venturing out into the bad weather lurking outside the door. “I’ve got to get ‘em, Autumn,” he told her. “It’s terrible out!” she stated firmly in protest. “I know,” Roque answered, “I’ll be careful… I promise.” He walked over to Autumn, who had her arms crossed, and kissed her gently on the forehead and then on the nose. “I promise I’ll be careful.” Autumn watched the black Chevy Blazer roll out of the driveway and down the road to begin the twenty-five mile trip down to Cheyenne, and then rolled her eyes, turning back toward the living room, “Sure ya’ will…” she said worriedly. She grabbed a knife out of one of the kitchen drawers, just below the countertop, and finished making the sandwiches, placing one of them on a paper-plate, for when Roque returned. Leaving the soup can on the counter, she walked over to the couch and sat down as she placed her plate and sandwich down on the nearby coffee table. Autumn flipped on the television to Oprah, just to catch the last half-hour, and curled up on the couch with every motive going for a nap. Chapter Two: Prowling the night like a bat out of Hell, Cody walked quietly down the street. His boots clicked every now and then, but the night fog was so think, the sound traveled a mere five feet before muffled down to nothing. The air smelled of the city… smoke, car exhausts, and a hint of food every now and then. Cody despised himself for what he was about to do. He knew it was wrong but the craving was so much, so unavoidable. His mouth watered with desire when the thought of the thick, warm liquid came to his mind, he slid his tongue across his teeth and picked up his pace. Cody gazed up at a light blue house that was completely dark inside. Standing there a minute before proceeding in, he rubbed his cheek with his forefinger, brushing off the accumulation of ice that had frozen to his unshaven bristles. The mailbox read, “The Hudson’s”. “The Hudson’s?” he thought. The man shrugged and began his ascent up the sidewalk towards the dark, haunted-looking house. Maybe it was the way the moon shone through the mist that made it look so eerie, or maybe it was the feeling deep down inside his gut that made Cody pause a second. The feeling soon passed and Cody had reached the front door. Taking a small, yet capable of pain, blade out from the side of his black, leather boot, Cody pursed his lips, trying to gain control over his own body. Quietly, he slid the blade into the lock, twitching it back and forth until he heard the door click. Cody turned the knob quickly; making any noise it might make a short-lived one. He slid inside and closed the door behind him. Despite Cody’s growing desire, he waited just long enough for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The home was well kept and room he was currently in smelled of potpourri. He ignored the rest of his surroundings, due to his oncoming want, and quickly found the stairs. “Most people’s rooms are upstairs. In almost every house, there is at least one mortal asleep in the upper level,” Cody informed his own head, as if trying to take his mind off what he was going to do. He climbed the staircase on tiptoe, listening for any sounds that might give him a better clue as to exactly where to go. After the stairs, the hallway twisted around to the opposite direction and down a corridor with several doors on each side. The floor was hardwood, so Cody stuck to the sides, avoiding any loose boards that might creak. The first door he came to was open just a few inches, enough for him to peer in and see if any one person was deep in night’s slumber. Indeed, there was a victim. Cody slid his body in through the door and, as quietly as he could, closed the door behind him. He gently made his way across the room. This room was carpeted and he didn’t have to worry as much about stepping on one of those loose floorboards that corrupted his way in the hallway before this room. The air smelled of perfumes and candles; Cody sensed that this was a young girl’s room, a teen perhaps. Anyone older would have kept his or her floor much cleaner. Scattered clothes littered the floor, and his pathway towards a bed that was placed on the far wall between to curtained windows. Twilight filtered in trough the two windows, just enough so that Cody could see. He sat down as gently as a cat on the side of the lightly colored bed. Cody couldn’t quite make out exactly what color it was. The girl was asleep on her side with her head just poking out of the sheets. His desire was great now; there was no stopping now. Cody pulled the comforted down below the girls shoulders and leaned down, gazing steady at his target. In a flurry of motions, he slammed his hand over his mouth as his teeth sank into the soft flesh of the girl’s throat. The girl woke up in a struggle to break free of Cody’s grip but to no avail. The man was twice as big as his victim was and the battle was short lived. A final breath left the girl; Cody liked to think of it as if he’d just freed a soul. He continued to drink the warm blood that flowed down the young woman’s neck in a quantity that was more than he could drink. After almost ten minutes, Cody stood up in the darkness, licking his lips with approval. He avoided looking at the slain corpse; he was ashamed of it. He recovered the body, trying to erase all signs of struggle, and pulled his coat up over his shoulders. As quietly as he had slipped in, he slipped out. Out in the hallway, Cody quickly slid against the wall back to the stairway and shuffled down, still on the sides to avoid any noise. He strode back to the front door he had entered by and slipped out. Streetlights reflected off the sleet-covered road as Roque drove the black Blazer through the urban areas of Cheyenne. The leather interior made the car feel cold sometimes, especially when he was alone and he didn’t have Autumn’s cheery voice to listen to. Usually, she’d sit in the seat Indian-style and sing along with whatever song was playing. It was extremely amusing when she didn’t know the words. Roque hummed along with his John Denver: Best Hits CD as he drove through town. He spotted a man walking down the street in a black trench coat and boots with leather gloves on. He squinted at the man and then looked away and shook his head. “Weirdoes,” he said quietly. Roque returned his gaze to the street and thought nothing of the man as he began looking for Carson Street. After a couple blocks, he turned left on the street and traveled several more blocks and turned on Grande Ave. All together, Cheyenne’s Police Department #2 was almost a mile into town. Roque was relieved when he finally reached the parking lot. He put the Blazer, also called ‘Beeper’, into park and turned off the ignition. Searching through the glove box for his keys into the building, Roque accidentally knocked his .357 Magnum out onto the floor. “Screw it,” he said, shivering, as he snatched his keys out of the department and slammed the ‘Beeper’s’ door shut. He jogged through the parking lot and unlocked the front door, making sure to switch off the security alarm on his way in. If he had forgotten, like some other unmentionable experience, he would have walked right into a motion detector laser. Roque re-locked the front door, just incase, and scurried off down the hallway to his office. He was a full-time undercover detective and was always carrying books, papers, and notebooks to and from work so his office wasn’t the tidiest thing in the world. Infact, it was a mess. He was always missing something, but in this case, he found exactly what he needed. The case file for his most recent client. “Roque!” called a voice from down the hall. Almost dropping the two-inch thick cream colored folder, Roque jumped around to see whom it was. A face appeared in the doorway; it was the face of Candice Murray, the Department #2 janitor. Most of the workers called him Curly instead because what hair was left on top of the old man’s head was matted into tiny gray-white curls. Curly was a nice fellow, always smiling and wearing his ‘uniform’, overalls with a plaid, cotton shirt underneath. “Curly,” Roque said, sighing with relief, “what are you doing here in this part of the office? You scared me half to death!” “I was just sweeping out this hallway,” Curly answered, glad there was someone to talk to, “I found this though,” he said, holding up a bracelet with tiny charms on it, “is it yours?” “Ha,” Roque spat out, “I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something like that, Curly. I think it’s Amanda’s. She said she lost a bracelet today.” “Amanda, you say? Alright then, I’ll just leave it in her mailbox so she can pick it up tomorrow,” he said, turning around on the head of his mop. “Hey, uh Curl, you did know that the security system was up downstairs, didn’t you?” Roque asked, suspicious of the reasons that the old man was here so late. “Yeah, the guys in the Security Department let me in through the south wing of the building. They said they’d leave their door unlocked for me to leave through,” he said. “Oh, okay. The all-nighters, eh?” asked Roque, knowing Curly wouldn’t lie. “Yep,” Curly nodded, “said they were working on some… vampire case? I don’t know what they’re talking about. All I’ve heard is that they’re working only with victims, they have no clue whom to suspect,” he finished, chuckling. “Ah, that one? I heard about it a couple of days ago, sounds interesting. I don’t really think there’s such a thing as vampires, probably some nutcase trying to relive some urban legend,” Roque state, laughing a little himself. “Well, you be careful, Roque,” Curly said, “I’ve got to get back to work. It’s slick out.” “I will,” Roque stated honestly, “I’ve got to get back home anyway before it gets any worse out there!” “See ya’!” “Yeah, bye,” Roque said in farewell. Roque looked down and saw that the folder was still in his hands. He looked over at his desk, thinking of anything else he might need, just incase the weather got so bad that he wouldn’t be able to make it to work tomorrow. Roque grabbed a few highlighters off his desk and then left Department #2, turning on the security once again as he passed by. Roque huffed over to the Blazer, opened the door, and threw all of his stuff over to the passenger’s seat and then jumped into the driver’s seat. He rubbed the cold water off of his face and stuck the key in the ignition. ‘Beeper’s’ interior was cold for only sitting there in the parking lot for a few minutes. “Maybe my talk with Curly was longer than I thought,” Roque said, shrugging it off. “You’re too paranoid, Mr. Skye,” he told himself with a blunt nod. Chapter Three: “Dude! Are you watching RAW right now?” blabbed Denise over the phone. “Of course I am! Are you crazy?” spat Autumn right back at her. Autumn was spread out on the couch in the living room, drinking a Sunkist, while talking on the phone with Denise. “You think he’ll win tonight?” “Which one?” Denise asked, giggling. “Kane! He’s ‘spose to fight X-PAC, ‘member?” “Oh yeah! I bet he does… he BETTER! I don’t think Vince wants anymore complaints,” Denise said in a complaining voice. “Whenever Roque leaves on some trip, I want to go to a WWF live! He doesn’t like all the noise. I say, ‘hey! It’s part of the show!’” laughed Autumn, “Speak of the Devil, where is Roque?” “What do you mean? He’s not out in that, is he? I heard from Athena it’s pretty bad up there,” Denise stated in a rather worried tone. “He said he left some important stuff at work… I’m guessing he forgot his ‘work’, he’d forget his head if it wasn’t attached!” snorted Autumn. “I hope he’s alright.” “I’m sure he is, he’s probably just taking some extra time on the roads,” Autumn said, shrugging the cold feeling of worry off of her slim shoulder. “Yeah… HEY! Kane’s on!” Denise shouted into the phone. “Hey, yeah, I think I’m DEAF!” “Heh, sorry.” “Oh hey, Roque’s home!” Autumn clarified, watching the Blazer’s headlights turn into the driveway. “That’s good, at least we know he’s not in the ditch,” Denise said. “Hey! That’s my baby you’re talking about! Don’t say that or he’ll probably end up there!” Autumn said with a hint of discipline. “O, you worry too much! He’ll be fine,” assured the woman on the other line. “I know… I’m so pessimistic!” “Yeah, you are.” Roque walked in the front door and removed his coat and shoes, just as Kane finished off with X-PAC. Amidst Autumn’s wild cheering, he managed to hug her and kiss her on the cheek. “Hey booger!” Autumn said, still grinning from her ‘triumph’. “Hey, it’s really cold out,” Roque complained, rubbing his hands together. “That’s what gloves are for.” “My guess, Roque entered the house?” Denise said over the phone. “Yes! And none too soon either,” Autumn replied, glaring over at Roque, just to let him know she was worried. “Hey!” Roque said, “you told me to be careful…” “Well not two and a half hours careful!” Autumn said, joking around a little. “Jeeps! What was he going, ten miles per hour?” laughed Denise, hearing Autumn’s part of the conversation in the phone. “Probably,” Autumn said, looking at Roque for an answer. Roque laid his head down on Autumn’s lap and curled up next to her. “No… I was talking to Curly at the office for awhile,” he said, watching the Rock fight HHH for the millionth time this year. “Ah,” said his wife, “I understand.” “O, Autumn?” “Yeah, Denise…” “I’ve got to go! Cat fell in the toilet,” she replied, laughing. “Again?” “Yeah.” “Alright,” answered Autumn, “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” “Kay! Hugs and Cookies, babe! We miss you!” “I miss you all, too! Tell Stormy I said ‘hi!’” Autumn begged. “I will, hun. Talk to you later!” “Bye!” Autumn clicked the off button on the cordless phone and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch and then settled down with Roque to watch the rest of RAW. The taste of blood still lingered within Cody’s mouth and he savored every bit of it. Walking through downtown Cheyenne was dangerous, especially when you’ve just committed a crime you’re ashamed of yourself, not to mention, when the police department has been on your case for the past six years. He strode on, taking alleyways and dark streets, through the dark night. The light mist had turned to a harsh sleet. “Man, where’s a hat when you need one?” Cody said to himself, wishing he’d have brought something to cover his ears. The houses around him were old and shabby. He guessed that he was on the East Side of town. Dogs barked every once in a while, forcing Cody to duck under a bush or behind a tree, for what reason, he wasn’t sure but he was playing it safe. The houses were mostly white, with the paint chipping off their sides like they’d been sandblasted. Cody despised this side of town, it always seemed to him like this is where all the criminals hung out. He really didn’t consider himself a criminal… just an outcast. A police car whizzed by him with its sirens on and lights flashing. Cody watched it pass with wide eyes, reminding him of what he had just done. “I’d better get out of here.” Cody quickly darted into an alley. He walked up to the nearest parked car, trying the doors. Most of the cars were unlocked and Cody thought about hotwiring them, but that would only cause more trouble. “Keys, keys, keys… KEYS!” A 1994 Teal Chevy 4x4 was what he found. He hopped in to the truck and rested a moment on its gray, cushion interior. The first thing he did after few moments of recollection was toss the cell phone out of the window. “The last thing I need is something to track,” Cody thought. After that, he started up and drove. His house was out of town, forty miles or so, out in the middle of nowhere… the Boonies, as he liked to call it. He lived with his sister and mother on a gravel road almost eight miles off the highway that led into town. The house looked much bigger on the outside than it really was. On the outside, it looked almost fifteen rooms but really, there were only eight. His room, his sister’s, his mother’s, the living room, the kitchen, and extra bedroom where his brother used to sleep, and two bathrooms. Of course, there was the basement, but that part was blocked off. Too many rats had moved in down there and the family had thought it best just to set it apart from the rest of the house. His sister, Nicole, had a white cat named Scamper in which Cody hated… every time he saw that ugly cat, he wanted to snap it’s neck and kick it out the door, but his mother wouldn’t be very happy with him. He hated his sister, too. She was always walking around in almost nothing, combing her stringy blonde hair endlessly; Cody thought she was a tramp but his mother insist he be nice to her, she was his sister. He obeyed his mother’s every command. She used to keep the house well-cleaned and up-kept, but after Cody’s father died, she just hasn’t been the same. Now she sits in her room with the shades drawn all day long, just staring at nothing at all. Her room was up the stairs on the second floor. All of their rooms were up there, along with a bathroom. Then, there was the kitchen, the living room, one bathroom and the extra bedroom on the first level. Cody sometimes slept on the first floor where his brother used to sleep. His brother also passed along in the same car accident his father had been in, but Cody never knew much about that, he was only five when it happened and his mother has never spoken a word about it. He’d only pieced together things that were in newspapers. Cody nervously watched the rearview mirror as he drove out of town; the icy roads were only permitting him so much speed. His mouth watered with another oncoming craving… “No,” he said aloud, trying to throw his mind off balance. “Not now, not now, not now,” he repeated it over and over again, shoving it back further into his mind. Cody was born with a taste for blood, it wasn’t his fault… some people are born with a taste for it, he was made that way, and being made that way by his creator permitted him to be a predator to humankind. He hated himself for it and kept most of his cravings and desires under control, but sometimes, there were too much for him, he had to let loose. The teal truck drove further out of town and down the highway that led to nowhere. Chapter Four: Though the temperature outside was only twenty-eight degrees and the sleet showered down in blankets of ice, the upstairs bedroom at the Skye Ranch was warm and welcoming. The dark room was all silence except for the steady breathing of the couple warm in their bed. Autumn slept in a ball, almost like a kitten, snuggled up against Roque, who had his arms draped around her folded up body. The bright numbers from the digital clock atop the headboard on the bed shone a greenish glare out into shadow-taken room. Sleet battered the windows throughout the entire night, making the roads much more slippery than they already were. Autumn shifted position, flipping sides and almost knocking Roque off the bed entirely if it hadn’t have been for the waterbed supporters on the side. He was shaken awake, taking an abrupt hold onto the side of the bed. Groaning, he slipped out of bed and walked over to the window, stretching his back out as he did so. Roque let out a sigh of weariness while gazing out of the icy window, dreading the possibility of a drive to work tomorrow, even worse, the thought of his wife traveling out in the vicious weather. Shaking his head, Roque shook himself out of the trance he’d slipped off into and headed downstairs for a glass of water. Cheyenne’s Security Department #2 was looking rather lively, considering it was two in the morning. The coffee machines, of course, were turned on and running constantly, keeping its drinkers satisfied with a continual supply of caffeine. Sunny Parkinson didn’t exactly enjoy having night shifts, but it made good money. She worked most of her hours in a cubical in the corner of the room, surrounded by three other co-workers, Jauque Smitten, Jade Justine, and, her personal favorite and workplace joker, Cray Hamilton. They kept each other awake on the really slow, draggy nights. Tonight was a draggy night. Cray was out of jokes and this vampire, man-eater case was really getting weird. Just last week, three bodies were found, bitten and blood-drained. Most of the details have been kept from the press, including the entire vampire deal, which made work step up to a somewhat more difficult level. When questioning witnesses or leads, Department #2 workers were forced to find ways around questions that would let any cats out of any bags. Sunny dreaded these cases in particular, because questions that get you somewhere in a case took thinking, something not many people are good at in the late night hours. “Hey Sunny!” called Crag from the cubical just to the right of Sunny’s. “Yes, darlin’?” “I got a joke for ya’!” “Crag, how long have you been thinking about this one?” Sunny said, getting fed up with Crag’s immaturity level. “Not long, it just came to me! Serious!” “Shoot!” Sunny challenged. “Why did the boy throw the clock out of the window?” Crag said, sniggering. “Crag! This is off a Laffy Taffy! Come on! I know you can do better than this!” Sunny said, hoping Crag was joking all together, calling that lame slogan a ‘joke’! “Okay, okay, here’s one. What do a blonde and a jet have in common?” “O… hmmm… you scored. Do tell!” “They both have a cockpit!!!” Crag laughed hysterically at his own joke, calling unwanted attention and annoying several other security folk in the room. “Crag! That’s disgusting, you sick, warped pervert!” Sunny said with a grimacing facial expression. “Sorry,” Crag said sympathetically, “I thought you needed a laugh. You looked quite stressed out over there with your nose in that folder.” “It’s that damn vampire case, the one with a real vampire! Ha! I think it’s a bunch of baloney! Don’t you?” “I don’t know, I guess we’ll find out sooner or later, eh?” Crag said, smiling. “Does it scare you, Sun?” “No, it makes me gag,” Sunny replied with an uninterested tone. “Now shut up, Crag, I’ve got to get back to work. One of these days you’re going to get us fired if you don’t watch that trap of yours.” “Yeah,” Crag said, getting back to his own work. Sunny sighed, knowing Crag wouldn’t be bugging her with another joke for at least another five minutes. With the amazingly stupid things he does say, it actually does take his little brain to process it all. “Sunny!” called Sham, the Chief Executive. “Yes, Shammy?” “Another report just came in, looks like another murder. They need you to come along and take notes,” Sham Zetherland said in a mellow tone. “Oh, yee-haw…” Sunny said, groaning while lifting herself up from the chair and grabbing a pocket notebook and pen out of the drawer in her desk. To be Continued...