Two kinds of Bats, and a Bourbon.

Bryson Davidson jolted awake at the heavy thump on the glass of his bedroom window. His head thrashed left to right in an attempt to scan the dark room. As a second impact shook the window, he rolled out of bed and shoved his hands underneath his bed, grabbing the wooden bat resting there. A third impact. Then a fourth.

Crawling on his stomach, Bryson made his way towards the hallway. After crossing the threshold, he stood and pressed his back against the hallway wall. Bryson peeked into his room at the window. Unfortunately, the curtains were currently blocking his view of the outside world. He cursed under his breath as the window was struck again. “What is out there?” He whispered.

At twenty-five years old, Bryson was in excellent shape; he could do this. He gripped the bat in his hands tight and inhaled through his nose. Bryson snuck through his house in the dark until he reached the back door. He paused for a moment to hear if whatever was striking his window broke in. Hearing nothing, he nodded and carefully opened the door in as quiet a manner as possible.

The moon sat high in the cloudless night sky, illuminating everything around him. The night air was silent except for a few crickets in the distance. The woods around the back of his home looked ominous, filled with darkness. Bryson twirled his bat twice before holding it like a batter at the plate would. His bare feet slid through the grass as he crept around the side of his house. At the far corner leaning against his bedroom window, a figure wearing a dark hoodie pressed its head against his window. After a few seconds, the figure tilted its head back and slammed its forehead on the glass.

Bryson swallowed the frog in his throat and took a deep breath. He could do this. Whoever this was hadn’t seen him yet. He could do this.

Taking one step at a time, Bryson snuck behind a tree on the edge of the forest. From there, he figured whoever this was couldn’t see him coming with their hood on. For the next excruciatingly slow five minutes, Bryson moved from tree to tree while the mystery person continued their rhythmic thumping. Finally, he stopped moving once he was directly behind the figure.

His stomach was in knots, and it felt like he couldn’t breathe. This was a stupid idea; he couldn’t do this. He should have stayed inside and called some friends or even the police. Why was he out here alone with a stranger?

Bryson shook his head to clear the intrusive thoughts away. The decision was already made, and things have happened this far already. There was no turning back now; he needed to do this. He could definitely do this...he hoped. Bryson gulped in air, stepped out from behind the tree, and stood next to the figure. “Hey, what are you doing?” He tried to sound as commanding as possible for someone who was only wearing a pair of bunny PJ bottoms.

The mysterious person made one last thump before turning to look at Bryson. The hood cast a shadow over their face making it impossible to recognize. They continued to slouch as their arms hung limply in front of them like some kind of zombie. The person took a staggering step towards Bryson, making him jump back and raise the bat in front of him.

“Stay back!” Bryson ordered, adjusting his footing. “I mean it, creep.”

The figure let out a raspy breath with a growl as they took another step. Then another. They stalked towards Bryson and held out a hand. It was slapped away with the bat. The figure lunged for Bryson. He swung the bat with a yell, and it connected with the side of the figure’s head, sending them crumbling down.

Bryson pointed the end of the bat at the figure on the ground. Now that they were lying down, he could see their face in the moonlight. “Jake?” Bryson gasped. “Dude, what in the world?”

He leaned the bat up against the house and slid his arms underneath Jake’s arms. “Yikes, man, how much are you eating?” He grunted as he struggled to drag the man inside the back door. After about three feet in the house, he dropped Jake like a sack of potatoes on his head. “Whoops. My bad, bro.”

Bryson collected his bat and locked the back door behind him. He stepped over Jake and strolled into the kitchen, leaving the bat on the island in the middle. Reaching inside the island’s cabinets, he retrieved a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. Bryson poured two glasses and set one down next to Jake’s head. “You’re gonna need that in a minute.”

He returned to the kitchen and downed his glass in a single swig. Bryson leaned against the counter and poured another round for himself. He had sipped through two more by the time a groan emanated from the hallway. Jake’s voice carried through the air. “Bloody ‘ell, mate.”

Jake stumbled into the kitchen while downing the contents of his glass. “I think you killed me there, love.”

Bryson rolled his eyes. “Maybe if you weren’t banging on my window at all hours of the night, we wouldn’t have this issue.” He slid the bottle across the island to Jake.

“I’m so sorry.” Jake rolled his eyes and poured himself a second round. “I might’ve been a wee bit wasted when I came home. Forgot my keys and all that.”

“And you’re not wasted now because….?” Bryson waved his hand in a circle.

Jake slammed his hand on the table. “I literally just said you killed me, mate.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Hurts like hell too.”

Bryson laughed at his friend. “Jake, you’re a vampire. I couldn’t kill you if I wanted to.” Bryson set his glass in the sink. He started walking towards his bedroom before Jake grabbed his arm. “What?”

Jake made Bryson face him. “You knew Vampires were roaming around, and you still went out there with a wooden bat and no shirt.”

“Yeah, dude. We were both there for that, remember?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, you twit.” Jake’s grip tightened. “What if you ran into someone that wasn’t your best mate?”

Bryson gently pried himself out from Jake’s grasp. “I appreciate the concern, but I think I’ll be fine.” He gently patted Jake’s cheek and continued going to bed. “Goodnight, Jake!”

Bryson closed the door behind him and slumped against it. Jake was right; that was incredibly stupid of him. Of course...Jake doesn’t have to know he agreed with that statement tonight. Time to go back to sleep. Bryson hit the pillows and drifted off within minutes.

Maybe he should invest in something a little more potent than a bat for next time.