Ellen hurled herself onto her bed, sobbing and trying to make amy sense of what had happened. Her mother had been turned into some sort of creature, a vampire as old superstitions called them. Bit superstitions were just that: superstitions. Ellen tried to find some sort of logic to her situation, but found none. It simply had to be accepted, no matter how absurd and wild it sounded. Her mother was rendered a lifeless bloodsucker, that much was true. How it pained her to drive the wooden stake through her own mother's heart! However, it had to be done. This was an actual vampire, not one confined to the pages of a novel. Mr. Lee almost definitely was a part of this. Mr. Lee, he must have been a vampire too.

But who would believe her? Who would believe her own mother was some made-up creature? Not even Ellen wholey believed the thoughts she was thinking. And worse was what might happen if Ellen confronted Mr. Lee about being a vampire. If he was one, Mr. Lee would kill Ellen as he did the others. And if he was not, Mr. Lee would label and ridicule Ellen as a mad woman. Either way, that was definitely not an option at all. Ellen decided that she must discover more about vampires in a much more discreet manner. So, Ellen took a deep, courage filled breath. She fixed her hair. She dried her tears. And, for good measure, he placed her grandmother's golden necklace with amethyst and a crucifix around her neck and a garlic bulb in her pocket.

She drove to the town bookstore, a cozy place that smelled of the musty scent of book pages. There was a cafe next to the store, always. a nice place to read and eat a meal at. As she walked in, she was overcome by the aisles and aisles of bookshelves, loaded with paperbacks, hardcovers, mystery, fantasy, biographies and nonfiction. An man in his 70s, with a pair of glasses that made him look like a dragonfly and silver eccentric hair, greeted Ellen. "Hello, miss! May I help you found something here?" Ellen smiled back, saying "Yes, I'm looking for vampire books, sir." The old bookkeeper walked to the back of the store, to the horror fiction section. He smiled and replied "Here, miss. We have a whole lot of 'em. Dracula, Salem's Lot, Interview with the Vampire. We also have some vampire films as well, if you'd prefer."

Ellen shook her head and said, "I don't think you understand, sir. I want some... nonfiction books about them." And at those words, the old man's expression dropped into a look of concern and shock. A series of memories seemed to flash across his mind, but he hid his discomfort with the subject and smiled. "Ma'am... I'm very sorry, but we don't have those in stock tight now. You'll have to come again later," Then, his voice dropped to a sudden, cautious whisper. "Come to my home and I'll tell you all you need to know." Ellen's eyebrows raised in confusion. She felt the old man put something in her hand. A piece of paper. It read, '1922, Orlock Street, Locksville' "Bye now," the old man said, "See you soon," Ellen walked off, memorizing the address

It had been hours later, when the old man closed up his shop, reluctantly locking up his favorite place to be in the entire country. As the sun slowly started to hide behind the glistening horizon, the shadows grew longer and slimmer with each passing minute. He walked home, to the one odd looking house in this sea of cookie cutter homes. Kids would heckle the old man for his eccentricities, but he never took it to heart. On his white painted door there hung a wreath of garlic, with a golden crucifix in the middle. He started to clean up for his guest, putting the tea kettle on the stove. As soon as the kettle whistled with steam, a knock came from the door. The man opened a peephole, smiling a welcoming grin when he saw Ellen standing there.

"Sit, sit, Ms... ah, ya never did tell me ya name, did ya, miss? Me own name's Abe. Abe Barlow. You might be?" he asked, pointing at a comfortable cushioned couch to sit on. "My name is Ellen. Ellen Morris." Abe put out a wrinkles, yet firm hand, and Ellen shook his hand. "Now, Mr. Barlow, you told me to come here, I was looking for the vampi-" Abe put a hand up to shush Ellen. He said, "Ellen, don't say that word. Brings bad things. But carry on,"

"Mr. Barlow, I need the... books I was telling you about. I know this is all insane. I think I'm going mad, but my mother, and my neighbor, I have good reason to believe that the two are... you know what." Ellen took a deep breath, struggling to keep in her grief and emotions, as obvious by her watering blue eyes. She had thought of seeing a therapist, because this entire situation was simply too fantastical to be real. Why would she of all people be subjected to this? She kept saying to herself that sometime, bad things happen to good people. Abe nodded and listening intently, as Ellen smiled that her older friend did not label her insane. "Ms. Ellen, I read in the papers about the Jackson Bezzel Case. I heard of ya dear mother's death, so deeply sorry for ya loss. And I read about the incident with the missing children after her death. You're perfectly sane. You're probably saner than most of the bastards in this damn town,"

Abe took the kettle off the stove to let it cool and beckoned Ellen to the upstairs rooms. They went into the attic, dusty and worn, but still with a certain nostalgic feel. There were pictures of a young Abe everywhere, in black and white. There were stacks upon stacks of books, from great novels to cookbooks. There were some heirlooms, a jewelry box and a few tools for fixing up the cracks and chinks in the house. But the most intriguing item was a box, with the words, 'hunter items' scribbled hastily on the cardboard with black marker. He kneeled to open the large box. A cloud of dust emerged, but once it cleared, Ellen gasped.

In the box were a stack of journals and books, with titles such as 'The Guide to Hunting the Vampyre' or 'A History of the Nosferatu' Inside were at least half a dozen golden crucifixes, as well as a package of garlic seeds. A mirror was located inside, likely to discern the vampire from the average human. And finally, there was a single wooden stake, dulled from age, but still sharp enough to pierce skin. But perhaps the oddest item in the box was a small shattered locket, with a picture of a gorgeous woman inside. "Ya see, Ms. Ellen, I was once a hunter, a huntsman as we called 'ahselves. But I gave up after... after... oh, nevermind it." Abe picked up the box and heaved its contents downstairs.

"Abe, I hope this isn't a hard subject, but, who is that woman in the locket," Ellen asked. It was a habit she had developed: the compulsive need to understand and put logic behind all concepts. Abe's expression dropped, as he forced himself to relive painful memories. "She... she is the reason I don't hunt the... vampires anymore. That's my wife, Carmilla. She was the sweetest, most beautiful woman in the world, I don't care who else there is. We had the kindest child together. But, I was quite the enemy amongst vampires. Roughed 'em up, I did. One day, Carmilla wasn't there when I got home. I searched up and down for her, called the police, and we found her two days after her disappearance, dead and rotting. We held a funeral, but I was the only one noticing the neck marks. She had been taken by vampires and transformed into one. Whaddaya know, the next day, two kids were found pale and lifeless. I knew what I had to do, but I just couldn't. I couldn't kill her! And then, I remembered what she was now, a murderer. So, I... staked her through the heart. And our daughter, she was terrified. She ran away, I haven't seen her since. She's likely changed her name and gone somewhere else. "

Her voice started to choke, as his face became wet with tears. Ellen put an hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. He put a hand up and took a sharp inhale. "Ellen, you are the last one who can help me. You say you have a vampire problem?" Ellen nodded, and said, "Yes, my neighbor, Mr. Lee, in the Lugosi Manor." Abe put a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Yeah, that was brand new when I was a kid. Then the owners let to go to trash. Shame. As for the Lee fellow, I haven't a clue. Go at five in the morning. The sun will rise tomorrow at six. Morning is when the vampire is weakest. Lure Lee into the light. Stake him through the heart. Place him in the coffin with a crucifix or garlic on it. Do whatever you need. Now go. Thank you, Ellen."

"I cannot thank you enough, Abe! I owe you my life!" Ellen said, her eyes with sympathy and friendship. "You don't owe me anything, hear? Go now." And the two parted, as the moon claimed the sky.