Beneath Our Graves

Well This Sucks

Carlos and I sat facing each other, elbows resting on our knees, hands clasped by our faces.

"I say we clean up the blood and forget all about this," I said, and Carlos nodded his head.

"That was defiantly a vampire though," Carlos mumbled, scratching his head. "Time to break out the holy water."

"For the last time, vampires aren't real. I mean, I'm not even sure bats are real."

"Then tell me how some creepy guy just disintegrated in the sunlight. And, how a stake through the heart is what killed him. You literally just told me he had pointy teeth!" He sighed, shaking his head. "Also, what do you mean bats aren't real. We just saw one last week."

"Well, I don't know, is anything real?"

We sat in silence, contemplating that, before Carlos shot up.

"Stop trying to avoid the question. Anyways, we're late, your dad is still expecting us."

I had forgotten all about the restaurant and my waiting dad. I sprinted to the kitchen, checking my phone, and my heart dropped. There were four missed calls and several messages that I hadn't seen.

That was more terrifying than any dead man in my kitchen.

The phone shook in my hand as I raised it to my ear.

"H-hello?"

"REVEREND P. ARES, WHERE ARE YOU?"

I flinched, nearly dropping my phone to the floor. "I'm- I'm here."

"Well I certainly don't see you. Haul your ass over here before I do it for you."

That didn't make any sense, but I refrained from saying anything, biting my lip. It probably wasn't the best time.

"We'll be right there!" I squeaked, pulling Carlos with me into the hallway. I picked my bag up from where I'd set it down and fumbled for my house keys.

"Is Carlos with you?"

He paled beside me, shaking his head furiously.

"Uh no, he texted and said he was coming over, but there was a lot of traffic."

"Mhm. Well I'm glad you're safe." With that, he hung up, the beep loud in our silence.

"Thank you," Carlos gasped, hugging me hard. I choked as he squeezed me, struggling to push him away.

"Anytime," I tried to say, but it was muffled by his shirt.

He headed out the door, and I followed behind, locking it and giving the house a once over to make sure there wasn't anything suspicious. Besides the creepy garden gnomes I received as a joke for my birthday (they're terrifying and it's a love-hate relationship) everything seemed normal.

"Hurry up!" Carlos yelled, jangling his keys. "I don't know about you, but I would prefer to keep my pretty face."

I huffed, jumping in. So much for normal.

...........

We arrived outside the restaurant, exactly two hours and twenty seven minutes late. The familiar dark wooden doors, that were usually cozy, looked at us ominously as we stepped in.

"It's about time," my dad said from behind the bar, slowly turning a whisky glass in his hand, supposedly cleaning it with a cloth. It was perfectly clear though, I didn't know what he was doing.

"Heyyy Dad, what's up? How's  the contractor thing going?" I stuttered nervously, putting on my best smile.

Carlos had taken the chance to slip away and was creeping towards the back kitchen out of sight. I glared at him, trying to signal through my eyes that he would be catching these hands later. He just sent me a guilty smile and slipped away.