Paranormal Pals and Predicaments

“I’m calling a meeting!” Andrew announced, letting his voice carry down the hall to his roommate’s doors.

Violet threw her door open, rubbing her eyes and yawning widely. “It’s so late, why are you shouting?” she groaned.

 Andrew frowned as she yawned, revealing her pointed canines. “I know it’s morning, but this is important. We need to discuss the apartment inspection; he’ll be here any minute.”

“What’s to discuss?” Amy asked, her incorporeal form floating through her door. “I’m in the middle of educating some idiot on just how amazing the works of Hiro Mashima are, I don’t have time for another one of your meetings.”

Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know how much that manga means to you, but this is serious. We could get kicked out of our place if they discover who we are! Or worse, they could arrest us!”

He shuddered at the thought. A neurotic werewolf wouldn’t last long in prison. His imagination spun with images of what the other inmates would do to him… Prison was not an option.

“We’ve had multiple inspections since moving in, and this is just a fire safety test! All they do is make sure the fire alarm has batteries and that the exits aren’t blocked,” Amy huffed. 

Andrew felt his face flush. “Oh my God, I forgot to replace the batteries!” He bolted for the kitchen, fumbling with the junk drawer until finding the 9V’s. He dashed straight for the fire alarm, dropping the coveted batteries twice before successfully replacing them.

Violet brushed past him on her way to the kitchen— presumably for a snack. She opened the fridge, blinking at its contents. She frowned, pawing through her supply of food.

“Why are there only ten in here? I bought at least a dozen yesterday.” She whirled to face them, hands on her hips. “Who took my blood bags?” She demanded. 

Andrew sighed, stepping forward to check the fridge. “You miscounted. There’s eleven in here.” 

She waved a hand, forcing him to flinch away from her sharpened nails. “Exactly!” She protested. “What happened to the twelfth?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re the only vampire here, none of the rest of us consume blood.” 

She narrowed her eyes in response. “Maybe someone took it to mess with me.”

Andrew marched to the trash, flashing its contents. “You ate it last night,” he said, pointing out the emptied bag. 

She blinked, processing. “Oh,” was all she had to say before plopping down on the couch, a fresh bag in hand.

Amy levitated over the bean bag chair, imitating sitting. “If we’re going to bother with a meeting, John should be here. He’s the only reason we were able to get a place like this to begin with,” she said.

John was their beloved human friend. He had shown compassion on this band of misfits when they’d had nowhere else to go, inviting them to stay in his spacious—and anti-supernatural—apartment in the sprawl of downtown Milwaukee.

None of them had fit in anywhere before John. Poor, naive Violet had been ruthlessly taken advantage of in the cunning vampire community. An anxiety riddled werewolf wasn't a favorite among his kind, either. And Amy… Well, she didn’t get along with most people when she was still alive, let alone now that she was a ghost.

“John’s at work right now,” Andrew pointed out, trying to get back to the looming subject at hand. “And given that this will be our first inspection without him present, it’ll be up to us to sell it to the inspector that all of us are human.” 

At this, Amy rolled her eyes. “Why do we need to be here during it? These things often happen when the tenants aren’t home, we can just leave.” she said.

Andrew folded his arms. “This inspection will be happening during the day. Violet can’t leave while the sun is still up. And besides…” he trailed off, eyeing Violet as she peeled her now-empty bag open, licking up the remnants of blood and making a mess all over her face. “Do you really trust Violet to stay here and do a convincing job of acting like a human?”

Amy winced. “Okay, you’ve made your point.” 

Violet glanced between the two of them, furrowing her brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she muttered.

Andrew pointed at Amy. “We’ll need to figure out Fangs over there, but you’re going to need to solidify for as long as you can. This—” he gestured over her still-levitating form. “Is not going to work.”

“But going solid takes up way too much energy!” She complained, flopping back into… well, nothing, since she was still hovering over the bean bag. Instead of sitting cross-legged over it, she was now lying almost upside down, arm flung out over her head, hair nearly touching the floor. Still floating. 

Andrew let out a sigh. “I’ll give you an energy draw once this whole thing is over. It’ll be like you never used any to begin with.” 

At this, she perked up. “Deal!” She agreed. He turned to Violet next.

“You are not to speak when the inspector comes. Not to him, not to Amy, and not to me. You’re so lucky that John was able to cover for you last time.”

“What do you mean? Last time went without a hitch.” She protested. 

Andrew arched a brow. “Last time the inspector caught you sniffing one of John's scabs. He had to tell the inspector that you were trying to figure out if you’d put ointment on it already.” 

Violet leaned into the couch, folding her arms over her chest. “It’s not my fault John’s blood smells delicious,” she grumbled, finally tossing the abused and empty bag onto the coffee table. 

Andrew paused, mentally counting to ten before panic could sink in. “Are the rules understood? I’ll handle the inspector in John’s absence. You two will make yourselves scarce in the meantime.” 

Amy gave him a half-hearted salute as Violet nodded. Andrew felt some tension release in his shoulders, finally letting himself believe that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t end in a trainwreck.

Amy raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ll have to watch yourself, too. You start transforming every time you get too worked up.” 

He swallowed. It was no secret he was bad at controlling his shifts, there was plenty of clawed and scratched furniture to prove it. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

A knock sounded at the door, and Andrew jumped, glancing wildly between the door and the two supernatural females. Amy got to her feet, solidifying as Violet snatched the damning bag off the table, stuffing it into the pocket of her sweatpants.

Andrew wiped his sweaty palms against his jeans as he approached the door, silently begging his racing heart to slow down. He opened the door to find a man in jeans, a collared shirt, loafers, and a tablet in hand. He was shorter than Andrew, but that was to be expected. After all, not many humans reach the average seven-foot-tall frame most werewolves have.

“Good morning,” the inspector greeted. “My name is Tom, and I’m conducting fire safety inspections on all units, may I—” 

Andrew threw the door open, mistakenly using way more force than necessary. He winced as Tom startled, nearly dropping his tablet.

He stepped aside to let him through, internally berating himself for the excessive force. Tom meandered through the entryway, nodding to himself. Andrew had no idea what he could be “inspecting” in the hallway, but he decided less contact with him was probably safer.

Amy and Violet trailed behind them. Andrew sent them looks, willing them to go away. Either they didn’t understand, or they didn’t care, because they followed at his heels, watching.

Finally, they reached the fire alarm. Tom looked around, asking, “The alarm is on a higher ceiling in this unit than in the others—”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll see if we can move it to another location,” Andrew squeaked, feeling sweat break across his forehead. Tom blinked at him. “No, that’s not necessary. Do you have anything that could help me reach it? I just need—”

Without thinking, Andrew grabbed Tom around the waist and lifted him to reach the alarm. Weird gasping, squeaking sounds came from Tom as his feet kicked around and he squirmed in Andrew's hands. 

Andrew blushed as he realized how weird he’d made the situation. He felt the transformation coming on, the claws growing from his fingertips and threatening to pierce Tom’s shirt where he was gripping. No no no! he internally willed, trying to get a handle on his emotions.

Tom straightened and—unaware of just how close he was to getting his abdomen pierced—pulled out some kind of wand sensor, tapping it against the alarm. The wand went red, and Andrew assumed that was a good thing when Tom nodded to himself.

“Oh wow… Are you guys going to kiss?” Amy squealed, peeking through her fingers in mock-modesty. 

Andrew startled, dropping Tom and reeling back. He whirled on Amy. “You are such a degenerate!” He cried, his voice coming out as a bit shrill.

Tom readjusted his shirt, eyes darting between the two. Andrew and Amy waited, but it seemed as though Tom wasn’t going to dignify the situation with a response. In the silence, Violet decided it was a good time to shove her hands in her pockets.

The sound of crinkling plastic filled the silent space, and Violet blinked, clearly not remembering what was in there. Before Andrew could do anything, she pulled out the offending object.

In her hand was the plastic, medical grade blood bag she’d abused just moments earlier. She stared at it, most likely puzzling over how it’d ended up in her pocket. 

Tom cleared his throat. “Is that… a blood bag? Like they use at blood donation centers?” He asked.

 Violet—belatedly— startled, shoving it back into her pocket. “Um,” she said intelligently.

Amy cut in, “No way! That’s a bag from when she drank… milk.” She looked at Andrew, who wanted to scream that that doesn’t make any sense!

Apparently, Tom felt the same way, because he just repeated, “milk?” while staring at her pocket. Amy trudged on. “Yeah, a milk bag. Like the Canadians do it.” If it were possible, Tom looked even more confused. “You guys have Canadian milk?” 

They all paused, again, at a loss for words.

“Is it… better?” He asked. 

Violet scrunched her face, looking at Andrew for help. Who asked hesitantly, “Is what better?” 

“Canadian milk. Is it better than American milk?” Tom clarified.

“Oh!” the group chimed in unison. They all spoke at once, giving glowing praise of a product they’ve never tried. 

Tom nodded. “I’ll have to try it sometime. I’ve finished the inspection, and you passed. If you could sign here…” he tapped on his tablet, bringing up the screen to sign.

Despite everything going okay on the surface, the tension between the roommate’s was practically suffocating, they had gotten their metaphorical springs wound so tight they were about to burst.

Andrew was trying—and failing—to convince himself to relax. It was over, wasn’t it? Just sign the box and return to life as usual. He lifted his finger to the screen, readying himself to sign.

Without warning, the fire alarm went off. Startled, Amy squeaked and poofed away, Violet hissed, bared her fangs, and ran for her room, and Andrew shifted part-way into his werewolf form.

The front door burst open, and John froze at the sight of the chaos.

“Hey!” He yelled, raising his voice to be heard over the alarm. 

As quick as it had started, the fire alarm stopped. The sudden, overwhelming quiet leaving three supernaturals desperately trying to stay out of view while trying to shift back to a more human state.  

Amy solidified but given that she had been at least a couple feet off the ground, fell into a clumsy heap on the floor.

Violet poked her head from her doorway but stayed put, uncharacteristically  sensing her presence would make things worse.

 Andrew reversed his shift, forcing measured breaths to make the process go smoothly. John let out a long exhale, rubbing his face.

The inspector focused on John. “Sorry about that, I forgot to mention that the fire alarms will be going off intermittently throughout the day as a part of our testing. Rest assured that everything is fine.”

 John smiled, thanking him and signing the tablet before guiding him to the door.

Once he was gone, they blew a collective sigh of relief. John took each of them in, assessing. “Work sent me home early,” he said. “What happened?”

“We suck at being human,” Andrew muttered. 

John frowned. “Why were you guys pretending to be human to begin with? Don’t you remember what I told you last night?” 

Andrew paused, mirroring his frown. “No, what?” He asked.

 John burst into laughter, doubling over. “Tom is my uncle,” he finally said, wiping a tear from his eye. “He knew about you guys before arriving. He was never going to reveal our secret.” 

Andrew’s mouth dropped open, and Amy stomped an insubstantial foot. “Are you kidding me?” She exploded. “All of that hassle for nothing?” She whirled, floating back to her room. “I have a deadline for a fanfic, I’m not wasting any more time on you people.”

Violet stretched, heading back into her room and slamming her door, muttering to herself about lack of sleep and stupid wolves. 

John clasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry this burdened you, let’s relax and watch some Netflix.” 

Andrew nodded, following him to the living room. Peace fell over their humble abode once again, at least for now, and Andrew tried not to worry about the air conditioner repair guy that was due the next day.