"I'm a daytripper you know," Beatrice had said as she had stepped up to the window to look out at the view before us.

Since this was easily the oddest thing anyone had said to me in a few days, I had to look to first make sure she was talking to me and not her phone or someone else who I hadn't noticed come in, and then to really make sure she was real.

She was about 5'8", slender with lean muscle that was definitely not from a gym, and she looked like she was in her early twenties. That is, until you got to her light blue vampire eyes and found yourself taken aback by a certain weariness and depth that you wouldn't see in a person that young.

"Hi daytripper," I said. "I'm Bob."

She looked at me with a half-smile. "You're not half as funny as you think you are. Cute, so I'll give you a pass."

"So about this daytripper business—"

"Goggles, Bob. Polarized and coated with UV protection. Just like this window here. You could stand here in the direct sunlight and never even feel a tingle. It's the one thing that makes everyone feel truly alive you know, sunlight. The goggles I wear are extremely useful for protection against even the hottest midday sun. They're part of my outfit because you gotta have the rest of the outfit, otherwise you will burn. Burn like a motherfucker."

"Like a motherfucker."

"Damn straight. A lot of the others are scared to try it you see. I've told them about it and they just look at me like I'm crazy. Do I look crazy to you Bob? Can I call you Bobby?"

"No you don't and no you can't—"

"We have all of this wonderful modern technology at our fingertips Bobby. This company has got shares in the latest sun protection creams, in sunglasses etcetera, etcetera. A hell of a lot of etcetera, if you know what I mean. It's in our best interest as vampires to be protected and to invest in ways we can walk in the sun. These fuckers here only dream of walking in the sun instead of standing inside a room and pretending. I actually do it. I've got a mask and all of this other gear and I don't let the sun stop me, because fuck the sun, you know?"

Holy shit, she was intense.

"Don't you look strange putting on all of that stuff? Don't people stare at you?"

"Let them stare. They don't know it's me under there, so why do I give a shit?"

I looked out over the city, not really knowing what to say. It sounded a little bit nuts, but she did have a point.

"It's kind of like changing the way you think about being a vampire, huh?"

She smiled then and there was a quiet sadness, but at the same time a cheerful gleefulness in her eyes. There was something broken about her, something deeply flawed that was almost scary because she knew it and she wasn't scared of it.

"You should try it sometime Bob," she said intently. "You don't have to live your entire life after dark, no matter what they tell you."

BOOM! A door slammed open from across the hall, and we both turned to look, me startled out of the spell that I had been placed in, Beatrice with a more bored expression.

"BEATRICE!" A man's voice boomed around the office and all at once we were wrapped up in the wide wonderful world of Harry de Biers the third, Vampire extraordinaire, bastard son of a fucking bastard.

I hated him on first sight, but he already had me beat. He hated me way before ever meeting me, but that was just Harry. He hated everyone equally and didn't care who knew it, especially if he was talking to you. He went straight for Beatrice, who had by this time taken a few steps forward.

"Harry, you motherfucker!"

Harry wasted no time. He grabbed Beatrice by her ever so lovely blonde hair and punched her in the face, one, two, three times. It was fast and brutal and I didn't even have time think about blinking. Beatrice staggered backward from the assault and her head collided with the dark UV glass, cracks spidering up from the point of impact. Beatrice jumped forward, fists flying at Harry, but he blocked them all with ease before grabbing her by the throat and then in one swift move that would have looked more at home in a televised wrestling match, yanked her off her feet and slammed her bodily down onto the granite.

Beatrice moaned, coughing blood and spitting teeth and Harry got to his feet, holding onto a fistful of her hair.

This had all happened in the space of three seconds. I was still frozen in shock, staring stupidly at Harry and Beatrice as if trying to tell myself that I wasn't seeing this. Harry fixed his pale blue eyes on mine and smiled. His fangs were huge.

Oh, what big teeth you have Mr. Wolf...

"You. Come with me."

And with that command, Harry turned and walked back the way he had come, dragging a feebly struggling Beatrice behind him by the hair, leaving me to follow. Panic, my old friend, flooded back, bringing a whole chorus of 'oh shits' and 'oh fucks' with it, all yelling for attention in my head, all trying to be first.

"Oh, fuck me," I finally decided and raced after Harry, definitely not wanting to see what would happen if I didn't follow. I considered standing up for Beatrice for one millisecond, before deciding that it would get me deep into a world of pain and misery.

The receptionist nodded to me and closed the door behind us as we went through into the next hallway, and more than anything her lack of reaction was the scariest thing of all. It was all just business as usual here at the de Biers Company, have a nice day.

I followed Harry down the wood panelled corridor, past a few expensive looking paintings and caught Beatrice glaring at me, her look telling me to do something dammit, but what the hell was I going to do? Her face was flecked with blood and her teeth looked all broken to shit, and all I could think of was just how fast Harry had moved, at how good he was at personally delivering a very effective beating. Definitely not a man I wanted to be fucking with, no matter how much Beatrice begged me with her eyes to do something—

"What are you going to do to her? Sir?" I ventured.

Harry looked over his shoulder and me and laughed humourlessly, but he didn't break his stride.

"I was thinking of nailing her to a wall and letting her bleed out," he said.

This was the point where reality took a firm but definite leave of absence, because none of this could be real, could it? I had exited the real world where stuff like this doesn't happen, and when it does happen, somebody tries to stop it or at least says something about it... right?

Right?

"I don't think I can let you do that," I said, and instantly regretted it.

Harry stopped in his tracks, turned, and looking me directly in the eye, pulled Beatrice toward him and punched her in the face like it was nothing.

"Every time you say something," he said and punched her in the face again, her head rocking back limply as blood sprayed from the impact. "I'm going to hit her more," Harry finished and punched Beatrice one more time for good measure.

Beatrice drooled blood and slumped down so suddenly I thought he had killed her on the spot.

"More pudding please," she mumbled.

Harry nodded to me and if I hadn't been scared before, I sure as shit was scared now, if not for me, then for this formerly beautiful stranger Harry had chosen to demonstrate his particular brand of brutality.

"Keep it up son."

Terrified beyond belief, I made the zipping motion across my mouth.

This was the fucked up scenario, Harry dragging the mostly unconscious Beatrice down the corridor by her hair, leaving a trail of blood and drool on the floor, and me meekly following and seriously reconsidering any job offer that I was now hoping was not going to be made.

I followed Harry into a huge leather themed office where he finally let go of Beatrice's hair, dumping her onto the carpet. He walked towards his gigantic desk without a care in the world. Beatrice stirred and spat blood out on the carpet and caught me looking at her poor fucked up face.

She smiled at me through jagged teeth and tried to wink with an eye that was mostly swollen shut.

"How you doing sailor?" She slurred, and failed to adopt a sexy pose. The swollen, bloody face was a little disturbing anyway.

"What you think I should do with her Bob?" I was startled to hear Harry even bothering to talk to me. He was sitting at his desk idly playing with a sharp looking katana and I wondered briefly if this whole thing was just a really fucked up show put on for my benefit—

One look at Beatrice made me reconsider that.

Harry continued. "That is your name, right? Bob?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"So what you think I should do with her?"

"With all due respect sir, I only just met her and I don't have a clue about any quarrel between you-"

"That's not what I asked you. Do you think I should kill her or let her live?"

Beatrice tried to sit up and slumped over instead. She looked at me with pleading eyes, and I got the idea that someone was playing for keeps, and it wasn't her. Saliva rushed my mouth then, as my adrenaline surged, and my heart pounded in my ears. I could feel my sphincter tighten as I stood there, not knowing what to say.

I chose my words carefully.

"I kinda like her, so maybe definitely not kill her? Please?"

There was relief in Beatrice's eyes now, and she tried a crooked smile, ruined by her swollen lips and a broken, bloody mouth. Harry never took his eyes off of me.

"You're absolutely correct. Of course, the choice isn't up to you, and I could decide that mercy isn't such a wise choice especially when it comes to little miss Beatrice here."

He looked at Beatrice now, and she looked to him with pleading eyes. "Wait outside Beatrice. We're going to have a talk when I'm done with Bobby here."

Of course, I could have corrected him and told him that nobody but my mom ever called me 'Bobby' but I don't think he would have cared. So I just watched Beatrice stumble and then when she inevitably fell, drag herself out the door. I wondered how much damage and shame and humiliation I was going to suffer before I got out of Harry's clutches.

******** AUTHOR'S NOTE **********

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