the invisible friends of the lonely

The gray weather and low temperature discouraged most residents from going outside. This was more the case when a fog made traffic on the streets more difficult. This fact, on the contrary, suited Sylvester who decided to go out shopping. Not that he was antisocial by nature, he liked humans and other creatures but he didn't know how to interact with them. He therefore avoided them as much as possible for fear of making them uncomfortable with his clumsiness.

As he stood in the entrance hall, finishing tying his shoes, a noise caught his attention. He turned around and saw his coat rack on the floor. Seeing his borsalino, he smiled, revealing canines as white as his skin. Obviously the “fairies” wanted him to go out looking stylish. He took his hat after raising the stand and thanking the invisible creatures he nicknamed "fairies" because the beings who assisted him in his daily life could only be small flying humans gifted with magic. At least, in his mind.

Once ready, there he is on the road to the supermarket.

There, he took a basket which he stuck in the crook of his elbow and began to survey the different departments. He helped himself to a few vegetables and had a hard time limiting himself to just one bag of apples, his favorite fruit. To the great dismay of another customer who would have liked to convince him to take more. However, Sylvester's will was stronger and he headed towards the meats. The embarrassment of choice made him salivate and this time, he didn't hold back. He had chosen a bit of everything. Arriving at the drinks aisles, he hesitated when faced with various promotions.

—Mr. Vampire, can you help me with something?

   He jumped. Concentrated on his dilemma, he had not noticed that a dwarf was next to him and had just called out to him. A hand on his heart - the body's memory no doubt since his organ had not beat for centuries - he stared at the little man.

—W-what can...can I help you?

   The dwarf pointed to a product without worrying about his slightly panicked state.

—Get me that beer up there, please. I'm sure, it's the elves, they stored it high up, it makes them laugh to see us struggling...!!

   The vampire pursed his lips, embarrassed. He did not intend to get involved in the eternal feud between elf and dwarf, but he was certain that no elf worked in this infrastructure. However, he was careful not to contradict the dwarf and simply took the designated pack of beer from him.

—Thank you, you’re a nice guy! Here, I’ll give you one, it’s good!

   He walked away after automatically putting the drink in Sylvestre’s basket. The latter did not correct him on the transition from "Sir" to "guy" for the simple reason that he had just been offered something to thank him for his help. It was so rare. Well, that didn't solve his dilemma. He always had to know whether he was taking lamb, beef or group O blood. His choice ultimately fell on group F and catfish blood after remembering that he had discount coupons in his pocket.

   Out of greed, he added a few sweets to his basket once at the checkout. He was reassured to see that it was a zombie taking care of the items. His slowness allowed him to put everything on the mat without stressing. In addition, he was one of the rare creatures who did not wince at blood bags and with whom interacting was much simpler.

—Hello!

   An unintelligible groan answered him but he was content with that.

—I am happy to see you too, sir… or madam? Forgive me if I offended you.

   Again, he gave a hoarse gurgle in response, but the zombie didn't seem upset by his confusion. It was true that the body was so deformed and even decomposed in places that it was difficult to assign a gender to it, but he didn't seem to care and held out his finger towards the final amount displayed on the screen. Following the gesture with his gaze, he understood what was being asked of him and took out his bank card from his wallet - the notes were not really safe in the hands of an undead who tended to put a lot of things in the mouth. The groceries paid for and put in a bag, he nodded to the cashier and left the supermarket.

The way back was longer. The fault was the fog which had thickened further and disrupted the vampire's sense of direction. If he wasn't charged, he would have happily transformed into a bat in order to use geolocation to find his mansion. He had taken the wrong street several times, much to his dismay. He even had the misfortune of finding himself in the werewolf neighborhood. He had to bargain for a few dishes to have the privilege of turning around, but he would much rather have to leave part of his groceries than part of his body.

He found his beloved mansion thanks to the adorable silhouettes of apples and lilies which decorated its large wrought iron fence. Far from the cliché attributed to vampires, his mansion was well maintained and had been renovated to modern standards. No Gothic columns or creaky stairs or even dark, dull colors. We were sophisticated and trendy or nothing. It was a concept he followed with fervor.

   After putting away his shopping, he went straight to his bathroom to jump in the shower. The smell of wolves on him suited him and he couldn't see himself ending his day smelling like a canine.

As he was getting ready, he saw his shampoo bottle fall off its shelf. As he bent down to pick it up, his attention was caught by a piece of paper. He took it and stood up carefully, not wanting to hit his head on the furniture. He smiled after reading the note: “Handsome guy! empty bottle! Be careful not to melt under hot water! ". This word had been typed using his typewriter, which made him think that the fairies must have anticipated what he would do. He accepted their compliment, as he did not have the ability to see himself in a mirror, he trusted their tastes. He threw away the empty bottle and took the new one from his reserve. Finally, he made sure that the water temperature was set correctly. Although he was not particularly sensitive to heat, he took the recommendations of the little beings literally.

After washing, he wrapped himself in a cozy and comfortable bathrobe and returned to his library. He looked at his shelf of favorite books, wondering which one he would read while pretending to have forgotten the story for the umpteenth time.

—So, Pride and Prejudice, or Romeo and Juliet?

   Despite appearances, he was a big fan of classic romance. Although in recent times he had also become interested in darker romances, following the advice of booksellers as well as the generally female public who were particularly attracted to lawless but tender-hearted male fanatics as soon as they laid eyes on them. on the main character. The centuries changed, not the morals. At least, that was what he had observed during his long life.

A book from his priority reading pile fell not far from his feet. He sighed, catching the message from the fairies.

—Do I really have to read this one?

   The book opened to the page of the first chapter as the only answer.

—Okay, I understand. You are really ruthless with me, I say.

   As if to confirm his words, a second book from his pile fell at his feet. As if to designate his next reading. He collected the two books and sat down in an armchair. No matter how much he complained about the creatures who prevented him from reading what he preferred, he devoured the new releases.

The days passed and his daily life had not changed. He was guided by the fairies who were both his invisible reminder and a kind of company of which he never tired. They had helped him many times. Like the time he almost forgot to put out the fire under his pot or when he was going to go out without protecting himself from the sun. The words with good intentions and full of kindness that he found in unlikely places in the manor sometimes gave him the impression that his heart was going to beat again because it moved him so much.

Once was unusual, he found a note on a dish of ready-made lasagna which told him the expiration date. There were also words added by hand that were difficult to decipher. He thought he could make out “eat” but the other words were illegible due to ink leaking. Thinking he understood that he had to reheat it first, he took it out of the refrigerator and put it in the microwave. He followed the instructions on the package before throwing it away and then prepared his cutlery while he waited.

   When the dish was ready, he sat down quietly, only for his fork to fall as he was about to take it. For once, he did not understand what message the fairies wanted him to understand. Were they impatient? Were they worried the lasagna would be overcooked or too hot for his sensitive palate? Remaining on this assumption, he picked up his tableware and began to enjoy.

However, after a few mouthfuls, he felt unwell and started coughing. The feeling of choking and having a tight throat was unpleasant. He put his hand on his chest, trying to massage himself to find better breathing. Nothing to do, he was suffocating. He collapsed, finding himself on the ground. His head hit the tiles heavily. And complete black. Finally until he had the impression that his body was gradually moving away from afar. Unless it was the other way around. It was his soul that was distancing itself.

—Well, that’s it…

—A ghost vamp, this is the first time I’ve seen one…

—And that means he died twice?! So badass…

   The voices came from a small gathering of ghosts who were all staring at him with a look of complete admiration. As for Sylvester, he was trying to understand what had just happened. He himself did not know that it was possible to die a second time and also to be reincarnated as a ghost. But that wasn't what mattered most to him right now.

—Are you the fairies who left me notes?

   The ghosts burst out laughing.

—There’s no such thing as fairies, stupid! It's in the stories!

   It was a great shock for him as he saw his illusions of adorable little humans fluttering everywhere and shining like fireflies shattering into pieces.

—Have I been lied to all my life?!

—Uh no, correction: you lied to yourself like a grown-up! But otherwise, yeah it’s us, the words, the things falling, all that, all that… Well, the last one wasn’t much useful because you’re not going to pick up pencils like everyone else!

—Fountain pens don't break unlike pencil leads! It’s more practical!

This was undoubtedly the only exception to the rule of keeping up with the times. He also didn't stick to pens because he found the ink dried too quickly.

—But because of that, you ate something with garlic in it and that’s where you are!

Despite the specter's indignant tone, Sylvester understood that everyone had put a lot of effort into preventing him from making fatal mistakes.

—So that was it. I apologize then.

-Oh yes ? Okay, excuse accepted.

—But why were you doing all that?

—Well, you're the only one not to run away because of us and to believe that the mansion is haunted and you maintained the house well so there were no cobwebs. In short, it was cool. That’s life… Well, so to speak.