Out of instinct, George glanced at the mirror.

Nothing. It was like he wasn't there.

With a sigh, he walked out of the house. The sun was barely up, hiding behind the clouds. But it was a bit sunny already. Vampires didn't burn in the sun, that was just a myth. Vampire didn't sparkle too. That was a load of bullshit.

He shuffled across with no clear destination in mind. Hands in his pockets, he enjoyed the feeling of the cool, early morning wind in his face.

You know what you have to do, right?

"Fucking Paul," He muttered, knowing that if his master was here he would've chopped off his head and burned his remains. He kicked a stray Coca Cola can. It skidded off in rocket speed due to his inhuman strenght. "Fucking Mccartney. Fucking vampires---"

"Hey, you alright there?"

George looked to his left and right, trying to find the source of the voice. He heard someone laugh.

"Up here, idiot!" The person giggled. George looked up and saw someone perched on a tree.