Random Roomie

He was lounging on my throw pillows in all his vampire glory. I would like to say you eventually get use to it, but you really don’t.

“Human, I require sustenance.” He demanded from his ‘nest’.

“There’s blood in the fridge.” I said sloughing off my outer layers of clothing.

He flopped back dramatically. “It’s not fresh.”

I started cleaning up the pillows, putting them back on the couch where they belonged. “Its what you’re going to get.”

He hissed halfheartedly and went to the fridge. He dug past my food and grabbed a bag I snagged from the blood bank where I worked. It was always the stuff that was going to go bad soon and they couldn’t distribute to people. If he had half a brain he would use some of his riches to get into the billion dollar blood bidding industry. But since he pays my rent I figure its worth the risk of stealing a bag or two every now and then.

Now that the sun was set he was free to leave the house. He pulled on his pea coat and headed out the door.

“Don’t kill anyone.” I reminded him.

He smiled, his fangs glinting in the porch light. I grabbed my stake from the umbrella stand and did a quick once over of the house. He had taken to bringing in stray vampires while I was at work, I did not want to wake up to a stranger trying to bite me in my own bed again. Ready to strike I pulled open every door, and shower curtain. Thankfully today he didn’t bring any friends home.

I passed out on the couch. He came home before dawn.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” He said dropping his wet coat on my face and ruffling his red hair.

A quick glance at the clock told me it was about four thirty. I rolled over to face the back of the couch. “How was work?”

“I resisted temptation, greeting those blood bags is literally the worst.”

I arched an eyebrow at him, being one of those blood bags in question.

He leaned against the arm of the couch. “I guess you are literally the worst. Since I have to smell you all the time.”

“I’m not that bad.” I said sitting up and kicking at his leg.

He crossed his arms his black tee shirt crumpled. Showing his pale white stomach and a tattoo that said 1759, the year he turned. “Literally the worst.”

I flopped back down, pushing his coat onto the floor. If he was going to say I was the worst that it what I would be. I got up and went to the bathroom, I heard him head into the kitchen and dig though the fridge. After washing my hands I opened the door and he was lurking outside of it, with his blood pouch.

“You need to get more.” He warned me.

“I will today. Let me get ready for work.”

He had that look in his eyes again, like he wanted me for dinner. I hurried to my room to change.

He was outside that door too when I opened it.

“What do you want?” I pushed past him.

“Something fresh.” He pleaded.

“I’ll do what I can.”

When I came back that night I tossed several bags at him. He looked at them with disgust.

“Just eat them.” I scolded, I felt like his mother.

He ate the first one with so much gusto he got blood on my couch.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah…” He curled up around his pile of blood packs.

“Are you going to work today?” I asked scrubbing the arm of the couch.

“I have the night off.” He got up and touched my cheek, the packs in his other hand.

“You know this isn’t part of our arrangement.”

“I know, I was wondering if you had changed your mind?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“But it will be pure bliss for you.”

“And then I will be dead, because you have the self control of a opossum in a pastry shop.”

“I could bring you back.”

“I like being human.”

“Just a little sip.” He whispered his eyes huge and pleading.


“You heartless monster!” He sobbed into my shoulder.

I pushed him away, “Says the one with out a soul.”

Much to my surprise he laughed. “You are the worst.”

“Whatever…” I checked for unwanted visitors. “Why is there a dead girl in my room.”

He sheepishly came to the door, and looked in over my shoulder.

“You have to clean this up. I am not cleaning up another dead girl. You know I risk my job every time I bring you blood, and you leave a dead girl in my bed?!”


“Sorry isn’t good enough.” I wanted to punch him, but I know he would overpower me in moments if I tried. “You are the worst. Not me, you.”

“I was going to clean her up.” He twisted his hands together, trying to look innocent.

“You forgot in your food coma. I bet you had sex in my bed too.” I huffed and walked away leaving the house and sitting on the porch.

He came out and put his arm around my shoulders. “I am sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Falling off the wagon, killing again, and doing it in your room.” He said something in his face told me he thought it was my fault, for being a human. “Its just so hard with you here all the time. Working with them at night. That blood bag is nothing like the real thing.”

“You need to leave then.”

“But where will I go?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t work with you on your vices if you keep blaming me.”

He rested his head in his hands. They weren’t blood covered this time so he had at least showered after the kill.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen this time. I thought I could stop.”

“You know I am a phlebotomist. I take blood for a living, without killing anyone.”

He downed another bag of blood. He was trying to control himself, I could see it, he wanted to eat me.

“You need to go… until you get a hold of yourself again.” I told him inching back towards the house. He lunged at me and I slammed the door, throwing all the locks before he had a chance to turn the handle. I could hear him clawing at the door. Tonight would be a sleepless night. I headed to my room to take care of the dead girl.

It was years before he showed up on my doorstep again. I had moved far away from our old place, but he still found me.

“I’m ready to try again.” He said softly looking up at me with pleading eyes. “Can I come in.”

I glanced inside at my happy family, a husband, a kid, and the dog all playing on the carpet.

“You are asking me to give up everything to help you.” I warned him. “There will be no second chances. If you hurt any of them I will kill you.”

He stepped towards the door, looking exactly like he did when I took him in the first time. I blocked the door. “Now, here are the rules. You can stay for a week. No live blood only bags. Any slip ups and you are not allowed back inside. Got it?”

He nodded. He was only allowed in one day. He couldn’t get in the second day, his invitation revoked. I found him hiding in my garbage bin.

“I can’t any more.” I told him closing the garbage lid. I saw him peaking out from under the lid, just a pair of eyes.


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Writing short stories and flash pieces.

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