Out for the Count

A knock-knock-knock came from the top of his coffin lid.

Ekkehard Freudg closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. One day’s sleep was all he wanted, one day of peace. That damn boy would jump at the shadows of his own bat wings. Ekk pushed up his coffin and glared at the boy, not even deigning to sit upright. He kept his arms crossed over his chest. ‘Yes, Dunstan, what is it?’

Dunstan Grieves stood there in his PJs, holding a blanket. He shifted from one foot to the other, looking awkward. ‘I heard a noise, Ekk.’

Ekk’s eyebrows rose. He tried to keep his voice even. ‘A noise? You woke me, Count Freudg, from his slumber for a noise? Well, what kind of a noise was it? A vampire hunter coming to stake me, the village populace come to burn me, what?’

Dunstan looked at his feet. He prodded the floor with his toes. ‘Well… no. It was a different kind of sound. A spooky sound.’

‘A spooky sound? A spooky s—’ Ekk sat up. ‘You’re an undead creature of the night, Dunstan! You’re over 300 years old! And I turned you when you were twenty-four. You can’t be afraid of every creak and groan in this old manor! And, most importantly, you can’t be waking me whilst I’m getting my sleep.’

Dunstan sagged. He looked miserable. “Kay. Sorry.’

Ekkehard likewise deflated. Who could say no to those hypnotic eyes? They made him feel like a monster. ‘Tell me, Dunstan, what can I do to make you feel better?’

Dunstan brightened a little. ‘Well, I guess, maybe… I could sleep in with you today, Ekk?’ He paused before hurrying on. ‘Just for today, I promise I’ll sleep in my own coffin tomorrow!’

Ekkehard closed his eyes. Beelzebub, give him strength. ‘Fine. Fine. But just for today. I swear to the Old Ones that this is the last time, though.’

The boy started to scramble in. ‘Oh, thanks a lot Ekk. It makes me just feel safer, y’know? I can sleep soundly knowing you’re there to protect me.’

Ekk scooched over to the far side of the coffin – the casket maker hadn’t constructed it with two bodies in mind. ‘All right, all right, but don’t hog all the duvet, you’ve got your own blanket there. And leave me some of the pillow, damn it!’

The boy snuggled down. His breathing slowed. ‘Thanks, Ekk. You’re the best. G’day, buddy.’

Ekkehard’s grumpy exterior melted a tiny bit. He grumbled. ‘Well, it’s all right. Good day, Dunstan.’

Dunstan jumped, propping himself up on his elbows. ‘Did you hear that?’

Ekkehard groaned. One day – one single day – that was all he asked for. ‘Sleep,’ he groaned. ‘Lemme sleep.’

Dunstan remained half upright, listening. He raised a finger in the twilight of the closed coffin. A heavy thud and scrape came from beyond the casket’s walls as if on cue. ‘That.’

Ekkehard frowned. He blinked away the sleep in his eyes. Yes, he had heard that. A bat of worry fluttered its wings in the dusty corridors of his ancient heart. Could Dunstan’s paranoia be hitting the stake on the head for once? ‘Wha, wassit?’

‘I-I don’t know. Ekk, I think it’s what I heard earlier. There’s somebody else in the house. There’s something in here with us.’

That woke him up faster than a snort of garlic. Could it be vampire hunters? He thought all the hunters had gone extinct and passed from reality into folklore and legend. He didn’t believe any existed any more. But if they did, he ought to do something. He stirred, starting to sit upright. ‘All right, all right,’ he said, running a hand over his face. ‘You wait here, boy. I’ll check it out. If there’s trouble, fly away.’

‘Be careful, Ekk!’

Ekkehard pushed open the coffin lid. He slipped like liquid through the gap, letting it close without a sound, sealing the boy safe inside. Outside, in the dark – thanks to those fancy blackout blinds – Ekk’s senses adjusted to the house. He sniffed the room, eyes glinting like a cat’s. He attuned himself to the very particles of air as they floated around him.

Something shifted down the corridor. A faint blue glow throbbed. A thud, a scrape, and a moan whispered along the floorboards.

Ekk’s teeth extended, and his sharpened nails itched for a fight. Well, bathe him in holy water. Dunstan was right. Could you say the boy was crying wolf when, against all odds, there was one? Sometimes, the boy had unfounded fears, but this time, his intuition had proved to be an ally. Ekk owed him an apology if he lived to see the moon’s light again. Lighter than the motes of dust drifting in the gloom, he stalked towards the disturbance.

A man was standing in the grand foyer, his back turned. He had an eerie, ethereal shine and swayed from side to side. His ripped shirt dangled from him in tatters. He appeared to be speaking to someone.

A human? Foolish, foolish! Ekkehard pounced.

The man’s body offered no resistance, and Ekk passed through him as though he weren’t there. Cold electricity crackled over Ekk’s skin as he pierced the stranger’s form.

Ekk thudded into the wall, head spinning, bewildered. He looked up at his failed would-be victim, bats fluttering in his vision.

The misty surface of the man’s skin strobed in the gloaming. He looked down upon Ekkehard, eyes furious, face drawn in a rictus of mourning. One side of his neck was a gaping black hole from which ink-black blood had gushed and stained both skin and cloth. He raised a hand and pointed at Ekkehard, wailing.

Uh oh. Ekkehard had killed this fellow the other night. He’d brought him back to their place as a late-night snack. It wasn’t good for his digestion, but sometimes you had to indulge.

Other ghosts apparated on either side like unwhacked whack-a-moles. ‘I am Shane Abbott,’ moaned the ghost, ‘and you have wrongfully killed me. I have woken the others, too. There were many –’ other voices joined in, in a choir of the dead ‘– oh so many.’

Oh, sweet Je— Ah, oh, sweet Nosferatu. Wasn’t that a kick in the blood-sucking teeth? The only way to get rid of ghosts was with an exorcism. And the only way to have an exorcism was with a priest. What vampire in their right mind would invite a priest into their home? They could spritz you with holy water or brandish a crucifix at you. And if the holy man did get rid of the hauntings, what then? They’d – ew – bless the place.

Dunstan’s voice called out from the other room. ‘Ekk? Everything all right?’

‘Dunstan, my boy,’ said Ekk, not breaking eye contact with the head ghost. ‘I don’t want to sound all aflutter, but I have bitten off more than I can suck here. We ought to contact the council.

‘We need to vamp-hire outside help.’