Personally, I never found the activity interesting or fun which my father never respected.
"It's tradition!"
"It's a part of our family name!"
"Your cousin's sister's aunt's cat's brother's uncle's owner was a vampire. Now he's dead!"
Anyway- I decided to stroll through the thick forest that was in my backyard one night. My father wanted me to look for any "vampiric activity". He gave me my unused stake, some rancid garlic, and a vamp repellent. I head out the door looking back at him, hoping that he could see the sarcasm that dripped from my expression. He just closes the door and I sigh.
Here we go. —
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It had been around an hour and 20 minutes since I left the house and there wasn't a sign of a single vampire anywhere.
Not like I cared anyway.
My legs started to hurt, so I rest by a nearby tree and took a snack break.
"Let's see what dad packed me today." I said sarcastically, knowing it was the usual garlic bread grilled cheese sandwich.
My speculations (as always) were correct.
I sigh and take a bite anyway.
I then heard a sudden rustling nearby. I would say it startled me, but it's the forest. There's gonna be wild animals.
Nothing I couldn't handle.
But the rustling got louder, and that's when I got curious.
I stood up and dusted off my dress and hood. I move closer to the rustling.
It got louder.
And louder.
And then quiet.
And suddenly, a beast jumped out of the bush and hissed at me, doing some kind of face that I guess was supposed to be scary? It mostly just looked goofy. As the thing continued to growl and screech at me, I look at its teeth. The canines were as sharp as daggers.
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