Fright Night (1985)

Rose's Journey: 24 Years a Vampire

Chapter One

Hometown Vampire Blues

By

GaGa4FrightNight

April 2012 Cliffside Village, Massachusetts

The signs of spring were subtle within the slightly cooled evening. The ocean salted air was carried by a soft breeze and within the distance were the sounds of Atlantic Ocean tossing waves against the shoreline that lined the small ocean view city with the sloped cliffs creating a soft echo of bells of swayed buoys. A single lighthouse spun its guiding light outward across the tussled waters then beamed over the tops of the city's skyline. The evening sky was brightened by the nearly full moon surrounded by the shimmer of stars that weren't quite as brilliant as they might have been twenty-five years ago. The city's expansive somewhat dulled those stars that once were visually millions. Beneath that night sky and illuminated by the moon was the expanded Cliffside Village Cemetery that had grown sprawling along those outlook cliffs. Carved stone walls erected surrounding the vast cemetery a singular iron gated entrance arched over by the cemetery name. The gates rattled softly against the breeze coming off the ocean, locked after dark to keep out any unwanted hooligans that might consider desecrating family plots, grave sites, and gravestones.

Over the seven foot stone wall then down atop the spring thaw soaked ground silently dropped two low heeled calf boots. Over the ground those boots moved, stepped in a weaving pattern around and between gravestones. A soft hum sounded in tune to the muffled music singing through two ear-buds hidden beneath a black hood. From the shadow of the hood were two black thin wires reaching down into the pocket of a black four button pea coat; inside a MP3 player on the selected 90s music of famed 80s rock group Def Leppard. The voice continued to hum Hysteria as the dark figure moved through the rows of gravestones in the direction of a large and bare maple tree.

With a little hurtled jump over one last gravestone the figure halted to the right of the maple. Two gloved hands reached up and pulled back the attached hood revealing moonlight illuminated strawberry blonde hair loosely drew back by a French braid. Two large blue eyes peered down at three gravestones; one actually was two connected and the other two alone. With a crouch those eyes focused on the singular gravestone and with a soft frown of sadness read the name; Jacob Allen Garrett. A gloved hand reached dragging the fingertips along the length of the name then dragged down against the year of death, 2001.

In sixteen years time, since the last time Rose Garrett had come to the cemetery, her little brother Jacob had died, he was twenty-five. Her eyes shifted and looked to the gravestone that bore her mom's name; Anne Fern Garrett, beloved wife and mother. Her eyes shifted to the connected stone seeing her dad's name, John Andrew Garrett but there was no death date which meant he was still alive. Her eyes reluctantly looked to the final gravestone to the right of the one shared by her parents; Rose Elizabeth Garrett, beloved daughter and sister forever loved and forever missed and the year of death on her own gravestone read 1987 with no month or day, just a year.

Her eyes scanned back over the other gravestones again looking to her brother's. "I'm sorry, Jacob." She softly spoke, "Love you, shithead."

She rose up tucking her hands into her pockets and again looked to the shared stone, "Love you, Mom." She then looked to where her dad yet hadn't been placed beside her mom, "Well, Dad, yeah."

She turned and made quick jump up then landed atop the stone wall and took one step off landing on the sidewalk. Down the sidewalk she strolled, lifted the hood and covered her strawberry blonde hair. She has been a vampire for twenty-five years and done went through the entire list of vampire firsts. Technically by natural sense she was forty-three but in vampire standards she was still the physical perfection of an eighteen year old yet by true vampire standards she was considered a kid, young with centuries of life to go while most others have already been around for centuries which included the forever forty something she'd been shacked up for those twenty-five years.

She's been nearly everywhere around the world and apparently that wasn't the only trip she'd make. Apparently they would make rounds over and over and over again watching the world change every passing year while she didn't change one physical bit, well, only slightly which was the hair and style of clothes. She was still madly in love with her heavy metal music which seemed to fade out in the early nineties upon the arrival of the grunge evolution led by Nirvana, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam. And, yes, she was still head over dead heels in love with her forever and always Jerry Dandridge, the monster of 99 Oak, her teenage self's ghostly spectral turned back into an undead creature of the night, the giver of her immortality, and, most importantly, the love of her eternal life.

Yet, within those twenty-five years she experienced that one's mind could mature when the body didn't age. She still had colorful language and could annoy the shit out of Jerry but in ways she had matured. Hell, she was technically forty-three so why not?

They returned to the United States and her hometown to gather up a fresh supply of her homeland soil; a vampire couldn't sleep on the same damned soil for all eternity because the stuff would go rank after a decade or so. She wasn't too emotional upon discovering her brother had died; yes, it was upsetting but that was mortality for you, death was unpredictable and had taken her brother so young. At least she was comforted that he was likely somewhere in a type of heaven with their mom. She was destined to stay on the earth for an eternity unless somehow death would come knocking on her door again wielding a stake and hammer, a bucket of holy water, or UV gun. If she died, she knew she had herself a one way ticket into the bowels of hell or would find herself stuck like Jerry was, as a ghostly vampire.

She strolled along those nighttime streets seeing many familiarities but many more was unfamiliar. Streets were added along with large multistory buildings and businesses. The last time she was there back in 1996 she roamed those streets in the same manner; taking in the unfamiliar and familiar sights. She was glad that one thing that hadn't changed, the cliffs and ocean shoreline were the same yet she was disappointed by the change of the night sky which lost some of its starry luster she once loved and admired.

As the last time, she found her way to that familiar street where she had last known her dad had lived. Upon returning to the East Coast her dad returned to the old family home that was crammed between two other brick houses; the entire street on both sides clustered with merely five feet between each home. She strolled down the sidewalk of that familiar street; the houses were pretty much the same and likely new generations of the same families dwelled inside.

She turned on the sidewalk peering across the street at the three story narrow brick house she had lived with her family, her dad, mom, and little brother. It looked the same though the trim was a different color, once was blue now what pristine white. Her eyes studied the house noticing how vacant and dark it looked compared to the last time she had seen it. Her eyes caught sight of a 'for sale' sign hung on a wooden realtor post. Her eyes frowned, not sure why her dad would sell that house; he never sold it when they moved to 99 Oak but left in the hands of Aunt Julie and Uncle Phil.

She stepped forward off the sidewalk and walked across the street keeping her eyes focused on the house and its lack of life and familiar comfort. The MP3 player was paused and she heard the distance sounds of the city which muffled the sounds of the ocean. Her eyes scanned the height of the old place; seeing the windows had been replaced with brand new ones with the stickers still in place, the brick had been obviously spray washed, and the small front yard with melting patches of snow. It was apparent the house was spruced up to be sold. It made her wonder where her dad was.

"Can I help ya?" a voice called from the neighboring house's screened-in front porch.

Her head darted and eyes peered to the neighboring house through the shadow of the hood. "Where's John Garrett?" she asked but remained standing before the short walkway of her family home.

"John Garrett?" the obvious woman's voice questioned.

"Yeah," she spoke up, "He lived here."

"Yeah, he used to." The woman said as she stepped out onto the porch steps wearing slippers and a plush blue robe hugged around her short and chubby figure, "He don't no more. Why ya asking for him?"

She slightly shifted on her boots. "I'm a relative." She stated, wasn't a lie just a vague truth.

"Ya are, huh," The woman stepped onto her walkway, "Then why don't ya know he ain't there no more."

Yep, that was typical suspicious North East Coaster for you, she thought. "Well, we hadn't been back here to the East Coast since I was little." She explained with a sweet youthful tone, "We just got in this morning and Aunt Julie said nothing about Uncle John having moved."

"Oh, well, odd she ain't said nothing to ya." The woman was a tad bit less suspicious.

"No one tells me nothing." She laughed, "I'm the last to know about everything in the family."

"Tell me about it." The woman laughed, "Well, honey, your Uncle John, he got really sick months back; had a stroke while working the yards. He's been in Cliffside long term care since it happened. Sorry about passing ya the bad news."

"Oh," she dropped her eyes; mortality was so damned cruel.

"Yeah, a shame," The woman nodded, "He ain't really been the same since his daughter, I'm guessing yar cousin, Rose up and vanished then back in that whole 9/11 business Jacob was up and was killed. Oh, let alone losing yar Aunt Anne to that cancer." The woman shook her head, "Been damned tragedy for that family, yar family."

"Yeah, really sucks." She commented with a nod beneath the hood, "Well, I gotta get back before they send the Cliffside police department out looking for me. Thanks."

"Okay," the woman nodded stepping back onto her porch steps, "Tell yar Aunt Julie that Mrs. McElroy says hello."

"Will do," she said and moved walking back across the street.

Her mind was confused with the thoughts of her dad all alone while kept in that long term care place where most were sent to live out their final days. Was her dad that sick? Was he going to die there in that cold and sterile place that so many elderly have gone to die? She remembered her grandmother Garrett having died in that place because the family couldn't afford to keep her at home with private care nurses. Yet her grandmother was in her nineties and her dad was like sixty-five, should've been retiring and moving somewhere like Florida to live out the rest of his years. Instead, her dad was lying in some hospital bed in Cliffside long term not knowing when he'd take his last breath and uncertain who would be there when that happened.

She hated thinking of mortality; lived those passed twenty-five years barely giving mortality a second thought. Traveled the world she attended heavy metal concerts until they started to wane down beneath the rise of other music fads. She barely got to see her concerts anymore like she once had; mostly those heavy metal bands were either broken up, playing casinos and other small venues, but there were a few that were traveling to China or Japan where heavy metal was still loved. She needed for nothing while her dad seemingly needed somebody to care.

She strolled for nearly an hour back through Cliffside Village until reaching one of the oldest inhabited neighborhoods; nearly as old as the state itself. A lengthy stretch of old colonial homes where the wealthy thrived with their ancient houses maintained keeping the houses practically their original states. There was a dead end at the end of that long and quiet street lined with towering maples that created a tunneling canopy. Back in her early high school years she and friends loathed the folks who lived on that street; called them a bunch of stuck up preps eagerly flashing their wealth in the form of their giant houses, nice brand new cars, and expensive clothes. Strange, she now was part of that neighborhood since Jerry up and purchased the historic house at the dead end.

Her head had hung down nearly the entire trek down that street. She felt somewhat ashamed that she was now part of that more prim and proper neighborhood she once loathed. Perhaps there was a new type of shame knowing that she had the fortune to probably make her dad comfortable but couldn't because everyone she once cared about, including him, believed she was dead.

Was it a risk having returned? Not really, being twenty-four years no one would suspect her being Rose Garrett because Rose Garrett would be forty-three and not the image of an eighteen year old. She predicted she would come across as a dead ringer; a physical likeness of a forgotten memory of the dying teenager that many have assumed had drowned herself in the ocean and body washed out into vast body of water.

Her head finally lifted and eyes looked to the looming structure; it wasn't as poorly kept as other old homes had been throughout those twenty-five years. The last member of that once prominent family had passed away nearly several years ago leaving the house in the hands of the city. It sat vacant all those years with little maintenance but Jerry saw it beautiful and had the means to restore it to its original glory and afterwards it would be sold for a pretty penny. In those years a restored historic house could sell for millions which would pile atop the already overloaded fortune.

She stepped onto the cobblestone driveway following its curve to the front door beneath the triangular roofed porch held up by rod iron made posts. She entered the new digs pulling back the hood from over her head being greeted by the traditional double grand staircase located in the grand foyer, both lined by rod iron rails that came together at the top landing.

"Miss Rose," she was greeted by Benny who stepped through the corridor entrance set between the two twin staircases.

"Hiya, Benny," she smiled taking off her coat, "How's it hanging, buddy?"

"Oh, yes, just fine," Benny meekly laughed taking Rose's coat, "Yes, hanging just fine, Miss Rose." He hadn't changed one bit in those twenty-five years; the same timid glasses wearing man and still greatly shorter than Stella who too hadn't changed and was still a brute force to reckon with. "How was your walk about Cliffside?" he asked with his soft voice while hanging Rose's coat in the coat closet beside the door.

"Shit sure changes in fifteen years." Rose commented with a shake of her head, "Where's the boss man?"

"Oh, Jerry," Benny smiled looking to Miss Rose, "I believe he's preparing for this evening's guests." He suddenly remembered something, "Oh, yes, of course," he spoke with his voice even softer, "Yes, he tried calling you on your cellular phone."

"Oops," she grimaced, "My bad, left it in my room. Is he pissed?"

"Um, pissed no," he nodded, "But a little upset yes." He turned following her towards the left staircase, "He just gets concerned when you go out on your own, Miss Rose, that's all."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she slightly rolled her eyes moving up the stairs hearing Benny directly behind her with his thumping steps, "You'd think by now he wouldn't be such a fussy ass; hell, I am forty-three." She giggled knowing she damn well didn't look forty-three then stepped up onto the landing and stepped to the left entering the second floor corridor, "Well, I'm gonna take a soak before the guests arrive and I have to explain myself to the big bad boss man."

"Oh, yes, of course, Miss Rose." Benny nodded, "Do you need anything right away?"

"Nah, I'm good to go, thanks." She turned to the left entering another corridor, "Eh, if he asks, you know where I'm at."

"Yes, yes, of course." Benny nodded then turned to return to tending to whatever it was he was doing upon Rose's return. He moved back down the corridor heading towards the landing. He froze upon hearing his name called then turned around and nervously moved for the far end of the corridor where Jerry's private study was located. He hoped that Jerry wasn't any longer upset about Rose not having answered her cell phone when he called.

At the door he heard Jerry call him to enter. Cracking the door he poked his head inside and said, "Yes, Jerry?" His eyes looked across the vast room with walls lined with mahogany floor to ceiling built-in shelves filled with hundreds to thousands of books. The master was seated behind the elaborate mahogany desk set before the ceiling height bay window, obviously in the midst of continuing with the house's restoration plans with the convenient use of the internet connection through the laptop atop the desk.

"Was that Rose's big mouth I heard?" Jerry asked, peered over at Benny who stood leaned through the opening of the door looking typically nervous. He watched Benny nod, "Oh, did she explain why she wasn't answering her phone?" He leaned back against the leather upholstered antique swivel desk chair trimmed in rich wood. He looked stunning as usual; always a vampire that kept a close eye on fashion trends yet most of his past tastes seemed to have moved quite smoothly through the decades.

"Um, yes," Benny continued his nervous nods, "She explained that she had unfortunately left her cellular phone in her room."

Jerry rolled his large brown eyes then grumbled, "Typical." He shook his head, "I give her the latest technology and she doesn't even use it with exception to that damned MP3 player. She still uses the record player. The music is only meant to be heard using vinyl, she says."

"Yes, yes, she does say that quite often." Benny agreed, always agreeable, "Would you like for me to fetch her for you? She said she was going to take a bath before the guests arrive."

"No," Jerry shook his head and refocused on the laptop screen, "There's no use scolding her because, well, that's our Rose; in one damned ear out the other."

"Well, is there anything else, Jerry?" Benny asked.

"No, just inform me when the guests arrive." Jerry responded and continued those expensive purchases that would collaborate with the house's original build.

"Yes, of course," Benny quietly tucked back closing the door then sighed with relief.

Rose stood bent over blow drying the length of her hair; she had grown it out nearly waist length. Vampire's could grow their hair. Jerry always had his trimmed nearly every two weeks by Benny to maintain his always stylish ebony waves. She flipped her hair back; the long waves fell loosely down her back brushing just at the top of her rear. She took a brief moment to get in a little dance groove while the traditional record player spun her Lizzy Borden album. Yeah, she had a CD player, hated CDs and typically in the house she used only her good old reliable record player and cassette combo.

Her bare feet danced across the refurbished and sealed hardwood preparing to invade her overloaded walk-in closet. She disappeared inside the closet; everything she had collected throughout those twenty-four years clustered throughout the deep closet and its racks and shelving. She wasn't like Jerry who threw out quite a bit of his wardrobe when a new decade started as did another fashion trend. She loved her old 80s fashions and was glad to see they hadn't totally gone out of style; vintage was what her clothes were called. She danced out of the closet with her chosen ensemble draped over her arm. A knock sounded on the door and she shouted over the music, "Entrée!"

Benny poked his head into the room, "Miss Rose, the guests have arrived."

"Okie dokie, Benny!" she shouted while tugging on a purposely holy pair of black leggings.

"Do you need any assistance with your hair and makeup, Miss Rose?" he eagerly asked.

"Nah, I'm good." She shouted; had become more accustomed to leaving her face and hair more natural.

"Oh, okay," he quietly said, missed the days of doing all her rocker chick glam makeup and hairstyles. He stepped back closing the door.

Rose stepped out into the corridor and moved along the carpet runner on bare feet, her toenails painted black. She turned then moved for the landing. At the stairs she moved down hearing the charms already being oozed. She had become accustomed to the taste of hookers, street walkers, and high class escorts; feeding was feeding. There were occasions where she would be a bit more indulgent picking of some rough necks or something more for sport.

She jumped off the last step slapping her feet against marble tiled floor. She followed the idiotic giggles; no doubt Jerry was giving a good show with his vampire charms. She entered the 'entertaining' room; yep, high class escorts they were. Two pretty expensively clad and high paid hookers that typically only tended to the wealthy and likely have been on that street doing favors for the stuck up preps.

She smiled wide upon seeing those two ladies with their butts parked on the expensive and very old leather upholstered sofa dotted with silver upholstery tacks and trimmed in rich cherry wood. "Hi!" she greeted seeing the typical surprise on their faces seeing such a young lady enter the room. She did a little skip forward keeping up with the deceptive youthfulness and snatched a juicy ripe plum then hardily bit into it; cleansed the palate before and after feedings.

"Oh, hello," The blonde of two escorts chimed then looked to her male host and asked, "Is this your daughter?"

Rose suddenly choked then hacked the chewed plum into the palm of her hand. That was the funniest thing she's heard in a while. She coughed while trying not to laugh at Jerry's expense; what a blow to his ego. She quickly decided to defuse the situation though Jerry had his eyes suspiciously narrowed at her. "Oh no," she sang sweetly shaking her hand dropping the bits of plum atop the side table then strolled over to the sofa and stepped before the blonde bimbo with a smile big and sweet then chimed, "I'm his eighteen year old lover." She watched the blonde's eyes widen with surprise towards the blatant statement. She took a step to the side then turned around smiling wide at Jerry. She sat down between the two women focusing on the blonde to her right. "Wanna hear about it?" she asked the woman; her imagination firing a huge load of bullshit.

"Rose, I don't think they're interested." Jerry stated; afraid of what next would come out of her big mouth.

"Oh, I don't mind." The blonde said and looked into Rose's sweet and innocent eyes, "I love a good scandal."

"Bet you do," Rose quipped and she and blonde started giggling. "Okay," she excitedly said and was ready to throw a huge ball of yarn into the mix, "Well, we met a year ago when I was seventeen, my senior year in high school."

Jerry was without words and simply sat down beside the fiery red head that too was focused on Rose's yarn. Oh, this isn't going to be good, he groaned in thought, took a big swallow of wine.

"So, yeah," Rose looked back and forth at the two escorts, "Well, he was my biology teacher that year. I thought he was just so damned dreamy; all the girls did. Oh you shoulda seen all of us just drooling over him." she saw them become closely drawn into her tale, "Well, one day I failed a very important biology test and he asked me to stay after school to redo the test. I was so nervous." she so convincingly sang, "Well, I soon discovered, yeah, that his reasons for having me stay after school wasn't to redo the test."

The two ladies giggled.

Jerry leaned with his elbow propped against the leather and padded sofa arm and covered his eyes with his hand.

"Yeah," Rose nodded seeing the women beaming with anticipation, "Yeah, you guessed it. I was at first like this is so wrong but damn it felt so right at the same time." she kept her tone so sweet and innocent wishing she could blush to enhance her performance, "He's so handsome and I just couldn't help myself. Yeah, I know he's a lot older than me but that doesn't matter to me. And I also accept that we have a very open relationship and that's why you two are here. Oh, and we just moved here because it got too rough back home because everyone ended up finding out about us." she slowly shook her head then deeply sighed, "I graduated and I'm eighteen so I'm legal but so many folks frowned upon him, thought he was this major perv who likes them young. But why ain't I considered the perv because I like them older, hmm?"

"Yeah," the blonde spoke up, "I don't get that. I mean obviously both of you wanted what happened and so why didn't both of you get the same wrap."

"Exactly," Rose eagerly nodded in agreement, "Well, here we are and here you two are. And, please, I really don't mind that he occasionally likes to pay for services; gives me a break so I can focus on getting my college applications sent out."

"Wow," said the red head then stated, "You two have a great relationship and you're really understanding, that's so mature for someone your age."

"Yeah, you're right," Rose nodded, "I've always been told I was mature for my age. I think that's exactly what he told me that day."

"So, I take it you're not interested in joining us?" the blonde curiously inquired.

"I don't know," Rose leaned forward and peered passed the red head, "What do you think, Mr. Dandridge…oops," she giggled placing her fingers against her lips then lowered her hand and commented, "An old habit, sorry."

"By all means," Jerry somewhat groaned, tried his best not to sound annoyed; annoyance was one of Rose's special talents.

"Well, I guess that's a yes." Rose sang then shifted on her rear facing the blonde, "I typically don't join in but I'll make an exception because I really like you and think you're nice and really pretty too." She smiled so deceptively sweet with an innocent tilt of her head.

"Awe that's so sweet," the blonde stated resting her hand on Rose's knee, "Honestly, I really don't see why he would need neither one of us when he has such a beautiful and young woman like you."

"Awe, that's so nice of you to say." Rose sang back, "But he really does need your friend and I really need you."

The blonde frowned, confused by Rose's meaning.

Rose watched the woman's eyes widen upon the moment her smile broadened into something more sinister and gave a glimpse of her fangs. "Yeah, that's right, I really, really need you because I'm really, really hungry." she stated with that sweet tone faded beneath a more sinister melody. She lunged, swiftly slammed the woman back against the length of the sofa burying her fangs into the side of the woman's neck.

The red head startled and went to stand up but her forearm was snatched by Jerry's lengthy fingered hand. She gasped the moment she was pulled back onto Jerry's lap but before a scream could escape his fangs tore into the side of her neck. Her body twitched and convulsed as her blood was slowly drawn through those four punctures, filling his hunger. Her limbs dropped limply as her body slouched atop his lap. He drew back with a satisfied sigh then shoved the woman off his lap; the body rolled and thudded to the floor.

He looked to Rose who just rose up off the blonde. "What was all that for?" he quickly asked then watched her turn and flop back against the sofa with a satisfied grin, "Was that all necessary? And why the hell did you make me sound like some type of sexual predator?"

Rose giggled then looked over at him; his eyes were narrowed and lips doing that subtle pucker of annoyance. "I wanted to spice up our relationship." she joked then stated, "A little role play can go a long ways." she slid to the side then laid back across the sofa resting her head on his lap and stared up at his handsome but annoyed expression, "And you are sexual and a predator and you are a sexual predator being with someone who looks eighteen." Her nose wrinkled and gave him a broad smile.

"Oh, suppose with me looking like I'm in my forties makes you a sexual predator as well?" he asked then again frowned upon watching her slowly shake her head, "Oh, really? So, then you must just be a gold digger using your impeccable youthful looks to get your grubby little mitts on my fortune." he watched her nod then couldn't help but chuckle, "You are hopeless."

"Yeah, hopelessly devoted to you." she sarcastically quoted the song.

"And you say I'm cheesy." He shook his head, "What shall I do with you, Rose, hmm?"

"Oh, you know what you can do with me." she replied with her brows coyly lifted.

He did a slight eye roll while making a short huff. He looked down into her bright eyes. "So, all you girls were drooling over me, hmm?" he slyly asked, "Drooling over the dreamy biology teacher? Seriously, do I look as if I would be a biology teacher?"

"Um yeah," she stated with a sharp nod then explained, "You know a lot about blood and certain parts of the female anatomy."

"I do, don't I." he smugly agreed.

She continued to grin then asked, "Or should I have made you into a history teacher because you're damned old and know more than your typical history text book would?" she grinned wider upon him again narrowing his eyes, "Yeah, next time you're gonna be the history teacher; naughty history teacher."

"Get off me," he slightly grumbled, "I've got work to do."

Her mouth dropped then she pressed her lips together. She thought her little impromptu performance was supposed to spice things up. She surely thought that little bit of banter would have sparked another impromptu performance. She reluctantly sat up and he got up off the sofa. "Hey," she spoke up with her eyes on his every move.

He snatched an apple from the fruit bowl grimacing at the mess on the side table. "Clean up this mess." He stated then bit into the apple and turned for the entryway.

"Hey!" she said louder and watched him halt in the doorway then turn to the side while chewing on the bite of apple, "You just gonna leave me hanging?"

His eyes shifted a little in thought then he swallowed. "Hanging," he licked his lips, "Right now, yes." He nodded, "I have too much work to do; planning further restorations, purchasing materials and furnishings…"

"Hey, enough!" she grumbled, "Okay, just go do that really boring stuff." She was trying to drop the hint that she wasn't boring.

He shook his head then left the room without another word.

Her shoulders slumped. Did all relationships, even vampire ones, reach that part where that once really hot spark seemed to dwindle? Her lips awkwardly puckered with her nose slightly wrinkled. Was it because they had such a huge, massive, gigantic, and just plain assed big age difference? Did immortal relationships hit such a stall in the road where the engine wasn't firing like it used to? Did she need a change of battery or just a whole new engine?

Yeah, she loved his gorgeous ass with all her dead heart. He was still an image to behold; perfect, stunning, and he knew it. She understood that he typically did get really buried under restoration projects. She guessed that restoration was his passion having been around for so long and his reason for that fortune. Yet, was she his passion too? She felt like there was a huge assed roadblock that slid right out in front of their eternally moving vehicle of a relationship and they were parked right in front of it with no other place to go. There were no detours to find because that was what immortality was; a straight line moving forward through time, a continuous straight line leading to somewhere but where? But in that moment in time there was that damned roadblock that she really needed to find some TNT and blow that shit to pieces. She wanted some damned full on action and he was the only one to give it because, as he knows, he's the only one who could give it.

She got up off the sofa, stepped over the red head's legs, then left the room just as Stella entered for a cleanup duty. "Hey, Stella," she sang hearing the big and tall woman hum her greeting, "Yep, you too." She paused at the stairs before going up, tried to figure what the hell she was going to do for the rest of the evening since someone was too damned busy spending money on the Old Dutch colonial. Her head tilted back and shoulders slumped and she made her way up the staircase.

Rose found something useful from those modern times; the internet. She downloaded tons of her heavy metal music loading them onto her MP3 player. Became a member of Netflix so she could watch all her 80s classic horror movies which she was scrolling through the new listings. Something caught her eye, something really odd. Her eyes stared at this red lettered movie title that shared another familiar title from her past; Fright Night. Was it a DVD collection of Peter Vincent's crappy old show?

She clicked the link and her eyes widened upon reading it was an actual movie that was released a year ago. Reading the movie's description practically put her in shock. "No fucking way," she mumbled seeing really familiar names, too damned familiar names. Peter Vincent, Charley Brewster, Amy Peterson, and one in particular that had the last name spelled differently; yep, Jerry Dandridge but spelled Dandrige. "Holy shit," her jaw dropped; it couldn't be. She needed to find that movie instead of waiting on Netflix to mail the new release.

Off the bed she darted then shoved through the door shouting for Benny. She kept shouting the keeper's name while speed walking towards the twin staircases. "Benny!" she again yelled and finally saw him practically stumble his way up the stairs. She quickly waved for him to hurry up and the moment he reached her just off the landing she whispered, "Benny, you gotta run to the nearest Wal-Mart," she explained keeping her voice a whisper, "Go and buy the movie called Fright Night."

"Fright Night," Benny frowned recognizing the title "Isn't that…"

"Yeah, yeah, Peter Vincent's stupid show's name but this a movie." She shook her head, "Go get it for me, okay?"

"Um, Stella's using the vehicle, Miss Rose." Benny stated.

"Oh, Jeeze, Benny," She griped, "Figure it out. I gotta get my hands on that movie, got it."

"Yes, of course, Miss Rose," Benny nodded though still frowning, "I'll do what I can, Miss Rose."

"Thanks, buddy," she gave him a friendly shove against the shoulder, "I'll be in my room."

Benny kept nodding; looked like he had to take a ride with Stella and hated the idea of riding the same vehicle as two dead bodies. He turned and moved down the staircase.