"The good ended happily and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means"—Oscar Wilde.


Another shot rang through the night, and Harry Johnson's head exploded, splattering Willie with a shower of blood and gore before the topless body crumbled into a heap on the ground. He scrambled to his feet as the vampire hunter reloaded and approached him, cocking back his rifle to fire again.

But Willie was faster. He reached out and grabbed the weapon, throwing it aside. The gunman let out a little yelp and backed away.

"Maggie Evans," the young man shouted, "STOP SHOOTING ME!"

"Don't hurt me…"

Willie grabbed the young woman by the shoulders. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. Why do ya think I would hurt you? You're the one who keeps pluggin' me fulla holes, when all I ever did was love you. Ya know, if you're not interested, there's a lotta better ways to tell a person."

Maggie broke his grasp and again backed away. "You what?" She looked confused.

"I love you. I always have. I will love you forever till the day I really die, and then my ghost will love you. So, please stop shootin' me."

"But you—you broke into my bedroom to kidnap—or kill me."

"Bullshit, I did not. I knocked on the door. I was tryin' to warn you about the vampire—not him, a different one." He pulled a piece of Harry's skull out of his hair.

"There's more?"

"As far as I know, there's me, him and—another guy. Dontcha remember anything from the time when ya were kidnapped?"

"So you did do it."

"No...but I was there." He sat on a tombstone, running his fingers through his unruly hair; then he wiped the goo on his pants leg. "I tried to help, but I-I didn't do a very good job."

"Willie, who was it?"

The young man sighed. "I guess you deserve to know the truth, so I'm gonna tell ya. But ya gotta swear that you won't do anything about it, like call the cops—or shoot anybody."

"I can't promise that. I won't."

"Then no deal. Here." He picked up the rifle and put it in her hands. "Go 'head and kill me, 'cause I'm one of them." Willie fell to his knees, pulled open his shirt, and guided the muzzle to the surgical stitches on his chest. "Break my heart, babe, just like last time. My life were better ended by thy hate than death prorogued, wantin' of thy love. I forget what prorogued means."

"What's that from? Did you make it up?"

"Nah, it's from a Shakespeare book where people die for love. I memorized all the good lines."

"Say something else."

Willie sat back on his heels and searched his brain for an appropriate passage. "Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright. It seems she hangs upon the cheek a' night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear—stop stallin' and shoot if you're gonna."

Maggie hesitated. "If I destroy you, I'll never learn what really happened."

"That's right."

"But if I promise, a guilty man goes free."

"Look, I know it was kinda like a major felony, but I gotta tell ya, he's really, really sorry about the whole thing. And if yer lookin' for revenge, don't sweat. You gave him such a hard time, he practically pushed you out the door," he laughed. "You broke a lotta his favorite stuff."

Maggie lowered her rifle and pulled off the hunting cap. "Alright, you win. Tell me what happened."

Willie brought his beloved into the mausoleum and seated her on Joshua's tomb. He then excused himself and stepped outside momentarily. It had been a long time since he traveled down the mental corridor to his mind, but it was important to be certain that Barnabas wasn't aware of what he was about to do.

He peeked in the master's portal and saw Julia enjoying a cigarette. Wait a minute, Willie was never allowed to smoke in the house. She and the older vampire were in his—oh, god, no!

Barnabas, for crissake, close your door! Have you no modesty?

I beg your pardon.

Willie slammed shut his own door and shuddered as he returned to the crypt and Maggie Evans.

And so he told her the truth, the whole truth—well, almost the whole truth. He cheated a little when he said that Julia had hypnotized Maggie to protect her from the vampire, when she had, he believed, done it solely for Barnabas.

True, it would have been much easier, much neater, to lay the blame on Harry Johnson (whose brain bits now dribbled down his torn leather jacket), but when you have a friend, or somebody to love, Willie reasoned, it wasn't fair to bullshit them. So he told the truth.

"It's all too much," Maggie said, shaking her head. "What an incredible story."

"But that's what happened; I swear." He looked away sadly. "Now you prob'ly hate me 'cause I didn't help ya when I shoulda. I was such a loser chicken shit back then."

"No," she touched his shoulder. "I understand."

His head whipped around. "Then will ya go out with me?"

She was startled by the question. "N-no. I can't, Willie, you're dead. I'm sorry, but I don't date vampires."

The young man was undaunted. "Ya mean ya would if I wasn't dead? Really?"

"Maybe," she looked perplexed. "I mean, I guess so." Maggie smiled at the sight of his face as it lit up. "You were always my best tipper at the diner."

"I gotta go. I'll see you later." He ran from the tomb, turned around and raced back. "Wait. What about Joe Haskell?"

"We're not engaged anymore. It seems he gets very nervous around guns, and this baby goes with me everywhere."

"Good." Willie pulled the engagement ring from his pocket and handed it to her. "Give that pansy-ass his pitiful little ring back. I'm gonna get ya a rock so big your hand'll drag on the ground."


Not bothering to drive around to the service door, Willie burst through the main entrance of the Old House.

"Julia!" He yelled. "Dr. Hoffman!" Slamming the door, he spotted her in the parlor with Barnabas. "Whatever you guys are doin', stop it."

Julia looked up horrified. "My god, what happened? You're covered in blood!"

"Oh, that. The Collinsport Ghoul exploded on me. And guess who he was, the shithead I told ya not to hire, but would ya listen to me? No. I hope now ya know, ya can't go 'round givin' vampire blood to just any asshole." The couple looked at him. "What?"

"You're not referring to Harry Johnson?" Julia squinted at him in disbelief. "But he was such a good worker."

"And you are a rotten judge of people, but never mind that. I want ya to make me human again. I'm gonna marry Maggie Evans."

The couple looked at him in surprise. "Willie, how can you consider such a thing after what happened to Barnabas?" the doctor questioned.

"I figure that was because he was becomin' his real age. I'm already my real age, so it won't matter."

"You don't know that for certain. It's very risky."

"You can do it, Julia. You're a brilliant doctor. Let's start now."

"We'll see. I will look over my notes." Dr. Hoffman excused herself and went upstairs to the laboratory.

When she had gone, Barnabas, who had been sitting silently in his favorite chair, motioned to his servant to come near and handed him a handkerchief with which to wipe his face.

"So, you are willing to give up this life for the woman you love."

"Yessir." Willie did not hesitate to answer.

"You do remember that she killed you, shot you five times in the chest."

"Four, sir, and that was just a misunderstandin'. It's cool now."

"If that is your judgment, so be it. I, too, have made a decision. I am going to ask Julia Hoffman for her hand."

Willie looked incredulously at the older vampire. He barely thought of Dr. Hoffman as a woman, let alone romance material. "Ya mean get married? Why? I thought ya liked Vicki Winters."

"I care deeply for Miss Winters, but—Julia has done so much for me, we've shared—"

"No, don't tell me!" Willie shook his head. "I don't wanna hear it, and I don't wanna think about it. The two a' ya—" A grin crept over the young man's face. "She asked you, didn't she? And you didn't know how to say no."

Barnabas avoided the question. "And has Miss Evans accepted you?"

"Kinda…no, not exactly. But she said she might go out with me if I wasn't dead at the time. So, I'm gonna take care a' that first. Afterwards, we'll get married."

"What then of your obligations to me?" Barnabas looked as if he had been slighted.

"Oh. I dunno." Willie hadn't thought of that. "Maybe I could still work here—if ya want me to."

"I certainly don't want to go to the trouble of training a new servant," the master scoffed.

"If I'm human again, I can go back to takin' care a' ya durin' the day." The older vampire nodded, conceding his point. "But, don't forget, ya said I could have a bigger room."

"Yes, I did."

"And a salary?" The master raised a brow. "C'mon, ya can't court a woman properly without some cash in yer pocket. Throw me a bone, will ya?"

Barnabas sighed. "Oh, very well."

Willie was on a roll. He decided to go all out.

"Can we get a TV and hook it up to the generator?"

"No."

Until the end of time, some things would never change.

"Now that the villain has been brought to justice," the elder continued, "perhaps our lives can return to normal."

"With you there and me here." Willie sat on the floor and threw another log onto the fire. "I'm kinda glad to be goin' back to normal. Some people aren't cut out to be vampires, ya know? Like Harry Johnson. With great power comes great responsibility." He watched as the paper Duraflame packaging went up in flames.

"And who said that? Oscar Wilde?" the servant shook his head. "Mark Twain?" No. "…Fortune cookie?"

"Spiderman." His servant began to stoke the fire.

Willie recalled a passage from the first-edition novel Barnabas had once given him to read. "Do ya believe that men've always slaughtered each other as they do today, that they've always been liars, cheats, traitors, ingrates and thieves…"

He couldn't remember the rest but Barnabas provided more of the quotation. "Weak, fickle, cowardly, envious?"

Willie jumped back in. "Greedy, drunken, miserly…ambitious…bloodthirsty…"

"Slanderous, lecherous, fanatical, hypocritical and foolish."

"Yeah." The young man pondered. "All that stuff, it's true, ain't it?"

"Indeed. In this best of all possible worlds."