Doll Face

Sundown

Mr. Wolfman grins a vicious grin with sharp teeth galore. Drool comes oozing out of his mouth as he growls hungrily. If it's one thing he loves more than booze, it's women. He seats himself at the bar of Helgamine's Tavern, guzzling down a glass of pumpkin beer, while admiring the view; a group of drunken vampires on a bachelorette party dancing to Michael Jackson'sThriller. He watches them intensely as they stretch out their arms while doing the dance. They're wearing short, tight dresses with stilettos. The bloodthirsty bride-to-be is wearing a pink sash over her crimson dress that says bachelorette. She laughs hysterically as she and her friends take shots together.
They cheer as they take down their fifth shot, "One, two, three go!" 
After the song ends, one of the vampire chicks breaks away from the group and heads over to the bar, standing next to Mr. Wolfman. "Can I have a Bloody Mary?" She says to the bartender.
It takes an awkward minute for the bartender to mix the drink as the girl patiently stands there and waits. Mr. Wolfman studies her hard; fair skin, perfectly symmetric facial features (as most vampires tend to acquire), not to mention, a hell of an ass. He grimaces as he pulls out a small vial of fine white powder.
The bartender hands the girl her drink.
"Don't worry honey, it's on me," Mr. Wolfman says as she pulls out her wallet. He nods to the bartender, "Put that on my tab."
"Oh..." She says, taken aback. "Thank you, sir." In the midst of her surprise, she drops her wallet and drunkenly slumps down to retrieve it.
As soon as his window of opportunity opens he immediately takes action, sprinkling a good portion of the powder into her drink. "No, thank you," He says as she stands back up and joins her group, her tainted Bloody Mary at hand.
"Whaddaya think you're doin'?" He snaps himself back to reality and discovers a tall, thin old witch on the other side of the counter staring at him hard. "You harassing my customers again?"
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"Don't you be sarcastic with me now. I ain't in the mood for any of your shenanigans."
"Oh Helga, when have I ever been sarcastic with you?"
"You best leave those girls alone. They may be young and pretty, but even God knows a werewolf is no match for a vampire, so don't even think about trying anything."
Mr. Wolfman continues to grin at the old witch, staring hard into her ancient beady eyes as she glares back at him. "Another beer please?" He slides the empty glass towards her. Without looking away from him, she slowly takes the glass and refills it, sliding it back towards him with force as it swishes around, some spilling onto the counter. He catches it with his paw, his gaze not leaving hers for a second, and gulps it down within seconds. "Helga," He belches, slamming the glass hard on the counter. "It was a pleasure as always," He lays a few bucks on the table and removes himself from the barstool. As he passes the drunken vampires, he smacks one of them on the ass and continues towards the door, ignoring her shrilled curses.
The sun is close to setting, which worries him immensely. His extended time that Mr. Boogie generously gave him is running out. He glances at his watch and crosses the street to a tin garbage can and climbs inside, peeking his head out with the tin lid over him and waits patiently.
Within seconds he's startled by the sound of a knock. He can barely hear it, but it's a soft tapping sound cutting through the silence of his hiding place followed by the sound of nails against the tin like the pitter-patter of rat's feet. He removes the lid from his head and is in shock to see who's looking down at him.
"I thought you never wanted to see me again," He says, puzzled. The lid clunks to the ground with a loud crash.
Chapel looks unsure of herself. She sinks her eyes to the ground and holds her black cardigan close to her as she shivers from the sudden cold breeze blowing through her long raven hair. Usually she looks confident by the aura of a brick wall she has created to keep her true emotions out of plain view, but at this moment she looks exposed and raw. Her past haunts her like a broken scab. She's possessed by an idea crafted by guilt that has built up over the course of a decade and she is ashamed that she has to break down this brick wall for someone she truly dislikes. 
"About Oogie's offer..." She starts, holding back tears.
Across the street at Helgamine's Tavern, the vampire chick busts through the double doors and falls to her hands and knees, coughing and vomiting on the cobblestone street. Her friends shortly follow after her. Chapel doesn't notice this but Mr. Wolfman watches from the corner of his eye, hoping that old witch doesn't spot him.
"I'm in."
"You are, huh? What made you change your mind?" He sinks lower into the garbage can.
The vampire girl holds her stomach as she rolls into a ball, her face in ruins as she cringes in pain. Her friends do their best to comfort her, holding her hand and gently holding back her hair so it doesn't get in the way of her puke. They tell her that it's going to be okay. Helga, the old witch, approaches the girls with a wet rag and places it on the girl's forehead, caressing her and chanting something under her breath, conjuring some sort of Wiccan healing spell.
"I... um... I'd rather not say."
"Well, it's nearly sundown." He carefully climbs out of his inconspicuous hiding spot. "We should get going then."
Chapel nods in agreement and follows the werewolf up the hill to the graveyard.