***
In the hallway, leaning up against a bare wall, just beyond range of the dim romantic light of the living room, the vampire could feel the rising blood pressure on the two lovers and anticipated how the young blood would feel as it rushed down his gullet. He watched, disinterested, as the two lovers began coitus, expressionless, and waited.
9:41 p.m.
The vampire licked his purple lips, ensuring that no precious crimson drop was wasted. The blood, young and vibrant, full of life, flowed within him like a flash-flood raging down a dry river bed. He closed his eyes and felt its power wash through him like a kind of sexual climax. It was invigorating and reeling at the same time. The vampire shuddered as he slowly began to fill out with lovely color: his pale white skin becoming bronze, his slightly withering lips full and luscious, his eyes a perfect green. He moaned as the sensations passed. Tilting his head back, he tried to enjoy every last sweet palpitation.
He reopened his eyes. After a deep breath and a sweep of his now rosy pink tongue over his lips, it was over. Of all those he had devoured over the centuries, it was difficult to find anything better than that of young lovers. It made him feel strong and invincible, as if he could rule the world. The vampire smiled. It was a long, nasty, mischievous smile, proudly and contemptuously displaying fangs.
As he wiped his cold, murderous hands upon a dishtowel that hung from the refrigerator, something caught his attention. A light had come on in the house across the fence. Curious, still feeling the effects of the blood within him, he moved closer. In the darkness of the kitchen where he lurked, he was invisible. The occupants of the home across the pitiful fence between them, however, did not have the same luxury.
The vampire watched as the other woman that he had seen lurking in the neighborhood earlier walked into the kitchen. The vampire's eyes widened as he studied her. She was quite lovely, but that was insignificant. It was what she held within her warm motherly arms which his mad black eyes latched onto. It was a baby. He licked his lips. Ah! But a baby is by far the best blood! The blood was fresh and, most importantly, to Vincent, it was the highest thrill of all to snatch them out of the arms of their weak mothers as they begged and pleaded for a mercy which would not come.
The vampire lifted his right hand and inserted a twisted yellow fingernail that was slowly returning to white into his mouth. He almost bit it off when his eyes happened upon the apparent husband who entered the kitchen holding another baby.
“Twins!” he whispered, his lips already wet with anticipation.
Within the curvature of his nail, the vampire found a drop of blood which he had previously missed. As he watched the mother and her infant, and the other infant behind, he ran his sandpapery tongue across the nail, licking it clean. The vampire had already forgotten the two bodies sprawled out on the couch in the other room. It was the twin babies that he wanted now, though he was too full to appreciate them.
Tomorrow, he thought, silently making his next day’s dinner plans. I shall have them tomorrow.
10:15 p.m.
Barbara Lopez leaned against the frame of the twins' bedroom doorway and quietly stole one last look at her sleeping babies before turning out the light. Watching their peaceful slumber gave her a warm feeling. They were not quite nine months old, yet, she couldn't help already feeling proud with the job that she had done raising them. Glowing inside, she turned around and flicked off the light, leaving the door open behind her so she wouldn't rap her knee or face on it in about four hours when one or both of them decided they needed something.
Barbara checked in on Jerod one last time. Since she could not risk turning on his light, even for a moment, for fear of waking him, Barbara had to allow her eyes time to focus in the dark. When she could see, her heart was warmed once again. Jerod had his sheets, bedspread and a thick blanket pulled all the way up to the bottom of his little chin. His cheeks were red with the bed's warmth. It wasn't cold enough for her son to need quite all that coverage, but she had seen him complain of the cold with almost twice the heat so she just left him alone.
All of her children were fast asleep. With a warm smile on her face, she turned and closed the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, the exclamation point on another day gone by, she walked down the hall to join her husband.
Michael was exhausted. It had now been another day of at least fifteen hours of work. When his wife entered the room, she found him with his eyes closed and his feet high on the recliner's foot-rest. She started to speak but immediately stopped herself upon seeing him.
“It's okay, sweetheart,” he said just above a whisper, opening his eyes. “I'm not asleep.” He yawned. “How are the kids?”
“Fast asleep.” Barbara was amused by the obvious show of exhaustion. He was just mere seconds from joining her children in the realm of dreams. Knowing that she was going to have to get right back up, Barbara didn't bother sitting down, but instead, leaned back against the arm of the couch. “You are the only one I have left to put to bed.”
He smiled. “And I'm ready, too!”
“I bet!” Barbara stood again. She studied him as he yawned once more and stretched. It was more than just the hours, she could now really see. It was the actual work. “Is the case really that bad?” she finally asked.
He rolled his eyes as he thought the question over for a second. Looking back at her, he frowned.
“If we only had the least little, but we don't have anything.”
His frown deepened, Michael begrudgingly pulled himself out of the comfortable recliner and put his arm around her.
“Well, come on!” She hugged him back. “You go on to bed and I'll turn everything off.”
“Okay.” He lightly kissed her forehead. “Love you.”
After turning out all of the lights and double checking all the doors, Barbara joined her husband in the master bedroom. Already dressed in her nightgown, she picked up her side of the covers and gently climbed into bed. Michael, like her three children, was fast asleep. She found herself listening to his light snoring for a moment. After a while, she realized it was because it reminded her so much of her son's. She grinned. When Jerod had been younger, a full day of hard playing always gave him the same snore she now heard in her right ear. Now that Jerod was older, it took much more to completely tire him out. Like father, like son, she thought.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” she whispered.
Reaching over to her left, Barbara turned the light out on another day. Twenty minutes later, after she had exhausted herself on thoughts of her children and the good life that she and Michael had built together, and after the bed was good and warm like Jerod's, she too fell asleep.