Yet Another Break In

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Tonight isn't the first time Kyle's house has been broken into. It certainly won't be the last either. It's all part of his contract you see, a contract he's getting increasingly sick of.

Submitted: February 15, 2019

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Submitted: February 15, 2019



The moment he arrived home from the pub Kyle knew something was wrong. The house looked the way it did every other night. It was just another simple, two story suburban home like every other, the kind that looked absolutely divine when driving past but quickly turned into a soul crushing brick trap after a few months of living there. From the day he moved in it had been far too big for him, too empty, but he always stayed. There was plenty tying him to his own personal Hell: his job, his few friends, and the tiny thrill he got when he came home late at night, just ever so slightly drunk, and to find that things were indescribably, undeniably wrong.

Kyle wasn’t a puzzle solver, he never had been, so he allowed himself to go through his night-time routine until the mystery revealed itself. It would eventually, it always did. He walked through the shadow shrouded house. The wide-open living room window let an ice-cold draft rattle through the walls. This was odd for one particular reason: he hadn’t opened it. He never left the window open. He closed it, sighed and sat in his usual chair. A click of the remote summoned a glare of bright light and noise from the television. He didn’t watch it, he just let it numb him.

One hour passed, then two, then three. 2am had reached him and still nothing happened. He sighed again. Perhaps he was mistaken. Maybe he couldn’t handle his booze in his forties the way he could when he in his twenties. He was about to give up and accept that he wasn’t going to see the answer to his mystery. In fact, there likely was no mystery, no tiny thrill of something different. Then at last it came, the sound of a young man clearing his throat. Kyle let out a wordless grumble. Of course, it was him. Why did it always have to be him?

“How long have you been standing there?” Kyle asked without turning around. From the dark back corner of the living room stepped a tall, slender figure. The television throughout a blinding white light that revealed the intruder’s black hair, pale skin, and black trench coat. Anyone who didn’t know better would presume he was an eighteen-year-old going through a severe emo phase. Unfortunately for Kyle, he knew better.

“About four hours. I was kind of hoping you would notice me. I think it would be really funny to see you jump.” The young man explained.

“You say that every time. I’m surprised you still think that’s going to happen.” Mumbled Kyle.

“It might.”

“Why can’t you just knock up the door like a normal person?”

“I did. You weren’t in.” He was never in. It was very inconvenient. “It’s not like I can just stand outside all night. Do you know how suspicious that looks?”

“About as suspicious as pushing a man’s window open I suspect.” Kyle retorted.

“Right…hey listen I need- “

“I know exactly what you need, Jordan.” Kyle interrupted.

“Look I’m really sorry, Kyle, but things are falling really short lately.” Jordan justified.

“I noticed. Things have been ‘falling short’ for about three years now.” Kyle snapped, finally breaking his gaze from the nonsense blur of images on the television.

“Hey, I’m trying here alright.” Jordan shouted. “But it’s hard. Heck, you have no idea how hard it is. Now you made a deal and you have a duty to stick to it.”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our ‘deal’. I believe I was supposed to get a little something for it.” Kyle scowled. He rose out of his seat, which he immediately realised did very little in his favour. He was considerably shorter than Jordan. Standing face to face, or face to shoulders, only served to make him feel intimidated.

“You’ll get everything you were promised. I swear to you you’ll get it someday soon.” Jordan replied. He tried to quiet his voice and seem just a little calmer. He achieved the former, not the latter.

“When Jordan? When are you going to keep your end of the bargain? You know when I made this deal I didn’t make it with you, I made it with your daddy.”

“I know.” Jordan grumbled. He’d heard this little speech so many times before he could recite it word for word.

“And since that I’ve had to be here for all of you. Your dad, your brother, that little punk who started hanging around with you all of a sudden. What was his name again?”


“That was it. Haven’t seen him in a while. What ever happened to that guy?”

“He died.”

“Oh…” said Kyle, suddenly feeling a little guilty. Man, he had treated that guy like trash. To be fair he was trash, completely and utterly, but he didn’t deserve to die. He shook his head and shook away the feeling. He didn’t have time to feel bad, it was distracting him from his anger. “Look the point is you need to give me a timeline to work with. All I’ve been told for the last twenty years is that I’ll get it someday soon. I want to know when, Jordan. When are you going to make me a vampire?”

Jordan went silent, turning his pale face back towards the shadows. He stayed that way for several seconds which dragged their feet as they passed. Kyle waited quietly. He’d patient for so many years, a few seconds more wasn’t going to hurt.

“Next year. 2nd of February.” Jordan answered at last.

“R-really?” Kyle stuttered in surprise.

“Really. That’s your fiftieth birthday isn’t it? I know it’s not exactly the best age to be stuck at forever but at least it’s a nice round number. Besides, it’s not like you’re getting any younger.” Jordan smiled revealing sharp, white fangs.

“I’ll be ageless. I’ll never have to worry about growing old again.” Kyle realised.

“Yeah, this undead miracle will be all yours. Let’s see how long it takes you to regret it.”

“I won’t.” Kyle replied sharply.

“Sure buddy. Now keep your end of the bargain. You’re still under contract until then.” Jordan reminded him.

“Fine, fine. You should really start calling ahead. It’s a really good job I’ve got enough for you isn’t it?” Kyle unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. The collar loosened around his neck revealing his skin. Close to his vein was two red marks that had barely healed from the last time one of the local vamps dropped by for a bite. It seemed extremely irresponsible to have so few donators in this area. Still Kyle hadn’t thought to question that when he signed up.

“I’ll bare that in mind. I’ll try to leave enough for you to work tomorrow but no promises.” Grumbled Jordan.

“Oh, and while we’re making requests I think you should start bringing food when you visit me.” Kyle grinned. “Even the hospitals give people cookies.”


© Copyright 2019 C.E. Tidswell. All rights reserved.

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