Young Writers Society

On his break, Ezra sat with Mitch in the back while the bar was being manned by Stewart, a stocky man in his late thirties who thought himself too good to socialise with the ‘youths’ he worked with.

“What kind of injuries did the guy have?” asked Ezra, searching through his phone for the article.

“Why do you wanna know, sicko,” laughed Mitch, spitting bits of his chicken wrap onto his lap.

Ezra cut him a look. “I mean, he died in hospital so the beating must have been pretty bad, right?”

“Hell yeah. Fractured skull, busted lung. The guy was bleeding internally.”

“All because he was just dressed like a vampire?”

“Well, I mean, that’s what the story says. They obviously want the people who jumped him to look like monsters. But I bet the guy antagonised them. Who in their right mind would dress in a cloak and fangs right now? And you know what? I think this is gonna be a first of many. You seen this?”

Mitch showed Ezra his phone screen. On it was a meme. The first picture was of a group on lads on a bar crawl with their shirts off, fists pumping the air and that mad look in their eyes that came with intoxication. The caption read ‘Me and the Boys on Nights Out Then,’. The next picture was of a group of medieval knights, kitted out in complete suits of armour, helmet visors down and swords ready, with the caption ‘Nights Out Now’. Underneath was the message, ‘Vampires, Come at Me’.

Mitch was laughing as Ezra puzzled over the image.

“There’s loads of ‘em.” Mitch scrolled down, revealing more and more memes making light of his death sentence. Pictures of people carving their table legs into stakes. Pictures of Van Helsing with the caption ‘When You Get The 2am Munchies and You’re Out of Pringles’. “Fucking gold.”

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Gabriel brought his thermos to his lips and drank, pressing his back hard against the old man’s chair so the footrest sprung out. He tried his best to relax, to focus on the five hours’ worth of dramas he’d recorded to keep him occupied throughout his shift, but he couldn’t get what Ezra had told him out of his mind. He’d never witnessed a vampire meeting the sun, but he’d seen them get killed. It was not a pretty sight. Back in the early 90’s there had been vampire gang wars. There probably still were, in the big cities and places where Nests still occurred. Vampires turned stakes on each other, ripping off limbs, caving in skulls. But at the end of those attacks, there were never any bodies besides a stray arm or leg. Because when vampires died, they became a bloody, pulpy mess.

And those people in the hospital where the vampires had been taken would have seen all of that happening with their own eyes. There would be no mistaking that they had most definitely not been human.

It was 3am when Julian started groaning in his sleep. It was low mumbling at first. Then his breathing started to become erratic. It crackled like his lungs were full of pebbles.

“Not again. No. Be gone, foul beast!”he cried. “Send these foul beasts into the abyss!”

Gabriel smirked as he got to his feet and went to check on Gandalf the White.

The old man was tossing and turning under his duvet, getting more and more tangled within his sheets.

“Julian,” said Gabriel. Still the old man grumbled. His white hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Julian.”

The old man whimpered. Gabriel went to shake his shoulder but stopped himself. He didn’t want the old man jerking awake and hurting himself.

“Julian!”

The old man shuddered awake and screwed his fists into his duvet. His bleary eyes blinked several times before finding Gabriel towering over him. The old man shrieked and spun away from him. “Please, no. No. No.”

Gabriel’s gut twisted as Julian buried his face into his pillow and cried.

“Julian, it’s me,” he said softly. “Gabriel, your carer. Do you remember?”

Julian sniffled and peaked at him over his thin shoulder like a child would do, wary of being tricked by a parent. He studied him a moment, then the lines on his face softened.

“Gabriel?” He blinked hard and turned back over so he was facing him. “You wear your shirts too tight and you don’t like ginger biscuits.”

Gabriel smiled. “That’s me.”

The old man looked sad for a moment; his fingers knotting deeper into his duvet. “They were here again.”

“I know, I heard. Sounded like you gave them a run for their money, though.”

He looked about the dimly lit room as if to check for the monsters.

“Is Becca here?” he asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “Not yet. She’ll be here soon.”

“And Kathy?”

Gabriel blinked, surprised. He hadn’t heard the old man ever say that name.

“No, not Kathy.”

Julian looked like he was lost in a pleasant trance. He smiled down at the foot of the bed. “My Kathy. Such a sweet girl.”

“Right.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “Are you feeling okay to go back to sleep?”

Julian nodded and got himself comfortable. “You’ll be here if they come back? The demons?”

“I’m right outside your door. They’re not getting past me.”

The old man nodded, satisfied, and closed his eyes.

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Gabriel jerked up to his feet at the sound of the front door opening, and inwardly chastised himself for being so jittery. Thankfully, by the time Becca came into the living room he had collected himself enough to look like he was casually reading a magazine.

“Didn’t think you were very green fingered,” she commented.

Gabriel furrowed his brows. She nodded to his lap. It was then he noticed that he was pretending to read a gardening magazine.

“Er, I’m not.” He quickly shoved it into the pile with the rest and rose to his feet once again. “How are you?”

She shrugged. “I’m okay. You?”

“Yeah. Good.”

He smiled. She smiled. A beat of silence rang between them.

“I’m sorry about the other morning,” he rushed when she looked towards her grandad’s room for an escape.

She furrowed her brows at him.

“About leaving so suddenly. I-I had to go deal with something.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.” She placed her canvas bag onto the little dining table and picked out a bottle of pills. “I didn’t really notice.”

“Oh…” Gabriel deflated. The awkwardness was creeping back into the room like a black fog. “He had his nightmares again,” he quickly added.

She looked to him. A worry line creased her freckled forehead. “Really?”

“Yeah. I calmed him down.”

“I guess the only thing that keeps them at bay is Lillian’s scones.”

Gabriel laughed. “Yeah, maybe.”

She turned back and started sorting out the pill bottles on the table. Gabriel lingered behind her.

“Are you going to the church function on Saturday?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you?”

“Absolutely.” Then she sighed. “Weekends are the hardest for my grandad. With you not being there.”

Gabriel studied the back of her head. Is she asking me to pick up an extra shift? Does she not want me at the party?

“Do you… need me to work the weekend?” he asked cautiously.

She spun around so fast her ponytail nearly whipped him across the face. “No, no. I got Claudia to work Saturday night. It’s fine.”

Gabriel paused, was he missing something? “Okay…”

She laughed awkwardly and went to tuck her hair behind her ear but there was nothing there. Her eyes scanned the carpet. “I meant that my grandad likes having you here.”

Her green eyes found his, carefully, meaningfully. Like they used to.

Gabriel felt that pull towards her. “Julian likes me here?” A smile played on his lips. She watched, biting her own.

“I like having you here.”

They gazed at each other. The silence between them no longer static and awkward. It was now thick with intent.

“Becca?” the old man called from down the corridor. And just like that, the spell was broken. Becca charged out of the room, instantly switching into caring granddaughter mode.

Gabriel ran his hands through his hair, smiling like an idiot, and went to aid her.