A Story to Die For

"So, am I the first reporter you've told your story to."

"No, I've told several. The story just never seems to make it on air," she said.

I stared at Ms. Romana in shock. There is no way this wouldn't make news. As I looked at her, she had a sly grin on her face that led me to believe she was hiding something from me. There was more to this story than she was telling me, and I just had to know.

"Ms. Romana, how has this not gone public? This is an amazing story! You even have old documents, artifacts, and photos to recall past events! Look, I even did some digging, your face is even in this photo of the Titanic I found, and here you are at the 1936 Olympic games, here you are at Woodstock, and you even have a picture with Elvis. You're the real d---!"

Before I could even finish my sentence, Ms. Romana leaped over the coffee table in the blink of an eye and placed her hand over my mouth. I was frozen in place; her eyes had changed from a light green to a deep red, and her nails, which were once polished and filed flat, were now sharp and burrowing into my cheek. But for some reason, I wasn't afraid. It was as if her gaze was telling my body that everything would be okay and that this was supposed to happen.

"Where did you find those photos?" she asked.

"I ran your face through a global database and found a few look-a-likes that seemed to match, but those were too close for comfort, so I brought em with me."

"You're the first person to actually believe my story and find proof that I haven't already retrieved and hidden. Nevertheless, the outcome will be the same," she replied angrily.

In classic vampire fashion, she sunk her teeth into my neck and began to do exactly what was in her nature. And there I was, powerless to resist. All I could do was sit there a die calmly. As the passing moments began to go by, I thought to myself. "Why would I come meet a vampire alone at their own home?" Well, that's obvious. Because before today, I had no idea they were real. I just thought I was meeting another nut case and brought my gun just in case. But what good is a gun against a hypnotizing vampire that fucked Elvis?