Word Diet - short stories with less calories

The Blood Sucker (#Confusion)

"Let's continue where you left off, Mister... ah, Johnson."

Mr. Johnson was a large man, and his feet hung off the end of the couch. He was uncomfortable half-laying/half-sitting and wondered how a doctor could expect patients to talk about their troubles and secrets in such a position.

"Um, yes, where did I leave off?" replied Mr. Johnson.

Looking at his notebook, Dr. Phatlips (yes, he was forever embarrassed by his last name) stated, "you spent most of the session elaborating on your job as an overseer of some sort-"

"Guardian Angel" interjected Mr. Johnson.

"And you were having issues regarding your position because the man you were assigned to manage -"

"Protect."

"Was now a ... vampire, I believe you called him."

"Yes, that is correct, vampire," asserted Mr. Johnson.

"And this caused you distress, which is why you are here, so please elaborate on your relationship with this vampire and why it's troubling."

"You see Doctor, as a Guardian Angel, I am assigned a person, who I am to watch-over, on occasion protect, and try to nudge in the direction of making good choices."

"And why is it important that YOU help them make good choices?"

"So that their souls can go to heaven - of course?" said Mr. Johnson, who shuddered to think that this man called himself a doctor.

"Alright then, please explain the problem."

"Well, the man, Williams, became a vampire, which means he is no longer living, but he is not really dead either."

"You said, 'became a vampire,' so it was his choice?"

"What! No, he was bitten by another vampire!" Lord help me, Johnson thought, but the Lord thought not.

"Then, you said that you were concerned with his soul - correct?"

"That's the problem, he didn't really die, so his soul is still inside his body, well, at least that is what some of us think; so my problem is, am I still on the job?"

"You mean, are you still employed to watch over Mr. Williams?"

"Correct, I mean, not dead, not alive, is my contract void? And then, of course, IF I am still employed, how can I help him when he feeds upon the innocent?"

"Hmmm, that is a predicament."

"What do you suggest?" Johnson held a small sense of hope that the Doctor may actually give him some good advice.

However, the Doctor was not a religious man, so all of this talk of heaven and hell and souls and such was a bit of a turn-off.

"I suggest you return next week at the same time, and we can start to explore some options," stated the Doctor, as he jotted down a quick note and pretentiously snapped his book closed.

Mr. Johnson sat up, relieved the session was over because that darn couch was causing his concealed wings to cramp.