"The clouds are slowly crawling towards the winter cold moon... and..so am I, towards my last nectar..."

"Mr. Brandon, why don't you understand, I cannot leave my son alone today"!

"Mrs. Brady, I need to spend this Christmas while protecting my 'loved ones'. I don't understand why I have to do this shift, even after informing you about my inability to do so, beforehand."

"protecting?"

"nothing."

"Mr. Brandon, I am extremely sorry for the current situation, but I don't have a choice." "Goodbye."

I felt a chill within me, not the one that cold-hearted winters bring, but the one that the enigma of my existence carries.

I decided to let go of this daunting fret and focus on the night ahead.

Mrs. Brady had always been a stolid purveyor of pricey intoxication. 

Though, not as recent as a decade ago, she wanted to delicately ruin the art of thoughtful dressmaking with the assistance of her absurd fashion sense. 

I had known the sorrows and joys of knowing Mrs. Brady for the past 7 years. As time passed, so did the browns of her head, replacing them with the fluttering greys, giving an expression of a threaded chessboard. The only feature that was yet to see the wrath of time, was her alluring smile, that was still as pleasant, and as mesmerizing as it was on the day of my service's commencement. 

Mrs. Brady had once, had the company of an 'unfaithful' uxorious husband. 

My co-workers often told me about his explicit 'love' for Mrs. Brady, that lasted only uptil a decade, after which his fondness for acting ran out of gas. Mrs. Brady was a proud and successful owner of two other pubs namely 'Swindle' and 'Rock hart', but these two were never in Mrs. Brady's heart as that spot was reserved and timely be seated by the 'Brady's'.

Mrs. Brady's drinking business was a vibrant affair and had increased after her husband's wishful departure.

The insincere intention of a 'Chateau Margaux' would soon metamorphose into an honest act of scotch quaffing. At times, she would become conscious of her Scottish ancestry, and request for a 'deoch-an-doris', before being assisted out by her own employees.

Mrs. Brady is a solicitous mother to two boys, Daniel and Mathew, aged 11 and 13 respectively. Both a complete opposite of each other. Mathew was an upcoming novelist and a straight-A student at school. While his brother was quite notorious in many ways. 

I noticed how patiently I had devoted my time to thinking of Mrs. Brady and was brought back to the present when I saw the corner most window ajar and went ahead to close it.

Merry Christmas cheers filled the surrounding white ice with colorful life, and the distant houses with light,.. that made it look like a light and sound show in progress.

That elated moment was to last for all... but me. The very same emotion of distress had yet again found its home. That feeling of loosing oneself to the fear of the unknown had set in.

"what was I to do? How would I protect them?"

As these thoughts mustered within me, a part of my conscious consciousness heard the brisk footsteps of the unwelcomed guests. 

It was past 11 pm and the young voices were in demand of a chilled bourbon. 

I delivered the desired drinks to the noisy table, that seemed to be filling the empty "BRADY'S " with its spontaneous outbursts and chatters.

I glanced at the group from the corner of my eye. Each one of them was wearing an old rugged sticker bomber jacket with black boots and a silver chain with a letter etched onto it, supposedly the initials of their names.

"Hey! why don't you join us?" 

"I am sorry sir,... I am not supposed to.. plus it's a little late too."

"Oh, that's alright, we won't say anything; plus today is the day of celebrations I am sure your manager won't mind."

Steadily, each of the 7 member party started to persuade me to join their not so intimate affair, but I was too occupied with my own hair raising thoughts, that would eventually lead me to the action of glass raising

and perhaps, to the table where the breezy class sat.

"..and on the contrary, we have been looking for you all., and waiting to see you on this very day".

My thoughts suddenly felt the jerk of reality. 

I felt the beasts get off their wooden chairs and lumber towards me...

The night had never felt so dead and cold, the glossy cherry's glistening was dimmed by the darkening silhouette, that was steadily approaching the front door.

The fear of the known had now triggered the unknown. The sensation of the agony and the fire within had taken over the power of thought. The excruciating pain of the growing whites and the strength that complemented them exceeded my imagination.

I was now in the darkness, a part of it.

"I don't remember miss, I really don't...." 

"Didn't these youngsters enter the pub last week? they went missing right after they entered yours."

"They had entered the bar, but I don't know where they went, as soon as I came out with the check.. they had left."

"All right, please don't leave the city, and if you receive any information about these youngsters, then let us know".

"surely, officer"

As soon as she left, I remembered the unforgotten, that I had never for a second, omitted that very day of my memory. That how the beasts were of my own kind, how they had tried to kill me and my fellow mates, my loved ones, how for their own evil intentions they had broken the ties of kinship and loyalty and how I ended them. 

But the most remembered of all would be the taste of that nectar that I tasted of the last but not the only one… and how I will always stand up for my kind, the ones that are the jewels of the night and the dead.. the vampires.