Etch-a-Sketch Litterature

Cleaner

    I approached the mausoleum apprehensively. When I’d gotten the call to come clean a vampire nest post-slaying, I’d been reluctant at best. Vampires are nasty creatures that live nasty and die nastier, melting into stinking piles of bones and black tar that is nonetheless identifiable as human remains by today’s forensics.

    Naturally.     

    In the end, though, I’d come because I needed the money.

    Wind howled through the oaks, and I was glad for my coat. The way they’d «picked the lock» on the door meant a long night’s shoe-polishing to erase the scratches. As for inside, I shuddered to think what hunters this sloppy would do to a vampire lair. A mess, no doubt, but that’s what paid the bills.

    I pushed the door gently open and shone the electric lamp down the stairs. The damp stink of enclosed space and dead vampire that came rushing up out of the dark was almost physical. Nasty creatures.

    I picked my way carefully down the stone stairs, everything was coated in a thick, slippery slime. Good news; it meant no one came down here, which made my work a little easier. The stairs curved down into a large round chamber where seven molding coffins lay with lids askew. Big coven. The bodies themselves, half a dozen in total, were reeking busily away on the masonry. I set my lamp and my work bag down by the first body, and stopped. I had the nagging feeling that something was off. A quick scan of the room revealed nothing, however. I was just about to go back to work when it hit me; seven coffins... six bodies.

    Something moved.

    The lamp flew across the room and shattered. The room was plunged into darkness and there was silence, then a sound like Hell caving in reverberated through the black, growling at me. Silence. I stood very still, waiting. Nothing happened and I shifted slowly, slowly towards my bag. God, I hoped I’d remembered my stake. Something shifted in the dark and I dove.

    It hit me from behind like a cannon ball. We fell and it was beneath me. It’s arms wrapped around my waist, crushing me. Cold teeth at my neck. I bucked and screamed, twisted violently. Suddenly, the iron grip went slack. I had just enough time to roll away before the body collapsed into goop. I lay there, breathing heavily on the cold stone, for a good minute before I could move. The bag yielded an extra flashlight, which I swung rapidly around the room, making sure there were no more surprises waiting for me.     I spent the next couple of hours scrubbing the masonry with bleach and cursing hunters. What kind of asshole goes to clean out a lair and leaves half the fucking vampires alive? They’d better bet they were getting a surcharge, whatever the case.

    When the mausoleum was looking like the next best thing to pristine, I called it a night and called the number provided on my pay slip. Nobody picked up but I left a message letting them know that the scene was wiped, despite their leftovers, and a hefty bill was headed their way.