The moon was full. The graveyard empty. And Dolores tripped, screaming, through the iron gates, her nightdress caked in blood. From the darkness, a howl. Dolores’ bare feet stumbled, running for the lonely church. Pattering paws came up behind. She ran through and pushed her slender form against the double doors. Bits of lace started slipping; she hastily pulled them back up. The door rattled. The lock clicked. Hinges screeched as something heavy struck the other side. Again. And again. Dolores backed away, squirming. Stained glass cast moonlight. The back-entrance! While the brute bashed the main entrance, [i]she’d[/i] be over the hills, towards the village… No, not the village. Wouldn’t understand. The forest? She opened the back door. The werewolf towered over her. And struck. Crunching and splattering followed. Bits rained down on the hard floor. A thump. Most of Dolores lay motionless. Eventually, the werewolf nudged her with its snout. “There. You happy?” Flesh chunks slid towards Dolores, who sat up, groaning until the last chunk slid seamlessly into place, before standing up and laughing. “Man, I wish we had a full moon every night! That was [i]exciting![/i] Let’s do it again!” The werewolf… shifted. Fidelia stood in its place, covering herself up. “Don’t head into the church. This place is creepy.” “It makes the game more interesting. So, wanna do it [i]now?[/i]” “Horny vampire,” muttered Fidelia. She forced a smile through her lips. “My place first. Clean-up.” [hr] Shifting the curtain, Dolores smiled at sunrise. “Nice day. You sheep-hunting later, or –?” A crumbling sound made Fidelia growl from the sink. “For pity’s sake, I warned you! Now you’re leaving dust everywhere! Hold on. I’ll get the steak.” Several drops of raw blood later, Dolores mushroomed into shape, swaying slightly. “Sorry,” she said. “So,” she added, sitting down by her dumbbells, “any thoughts about vacation?” “Brazil sounds kinda nice. A beach, sand to roll in, sea water for doggy-paddling.” “Eh…” Dolores pumped a few kilos. “Sun doesn’t agree with me. Also, food’s too spicy.” “Hm?” “Hot-blooded Latinos.” “Dolores, don’t be racist.” “I can [i]taste[/i] the difference. Say, why don’t we visit relatives? Haven’t seen your parents in ages.” Wiping steel candelabra with a cloth, Fidelia snorted. “Not a promising avenue. Your mom’s dog hasn’t forgiven me yet.” “Huh?” “For eating the cat? His best friend? While I was on that diet?” “Oh, that. I hardly remember Snowflake, really.” “Well, Rover von Ruritania does.” “How about Asia?” “Don’t they eat dogs over there? How about Italy?” “Too many Catholics.” “Huh?” “Crosses,” Dolores explained. After washing her ceramic dog bowl, Fidelia sighed. “We’ll think of something.” The day dragged on… [hr] Lying on the bed, Fidelia stared up at the chandelier. “You ever feel like the excitement’s gone out of things?” Groaning. No intelligible answer. “I mean, it’s been fifty years. Time we talked about… us.” “Next full moon…” mumbled Dolores, shifting. “We both run it… naked.” “I’m serious, Dolores. When we met, there was… a spark, you know? I tried to kill you, you tried to kill me… I never felt so alive. But now, we wait until full moon, I chase you a bit, and I don’t know how to say this, but… I feel like the spark’s not there anymore.” Dolores’ breath tickled her neck. After a while, Dolores answered, “Come on. You think I wait around with you every month for sex?” “Hm?” Dolores’ voice tickled Fidelia’s ear. “Come here, lemme tell a little secret.” “Yeah?” Heat stirred inside Fidelia’s chest. “Before I met you, I was always chasing somebody under the moonlight. Vampire food, right? And it was fun. I just didn’t feel… Well, I was like ‘Is that all there is? Chasing and snacking?’ So now I get to play the victim a little bit… For god’s sake, don’t tell [i]anyone[/i] this… but it’s like I’ve found myself. Properly. Like I knew that was all I needed to be complete.” “What, a tough girl like you?” “It’s nice to feel vulnerable every now and then. Crazy, I know, but true.” Dolores’s arms slithered around Fidelia’s own, wrapping them tighter together, and Fidelia looked away from the chandelier to two reddened, weary, but brightening eyes. “And some of my best moments were just us chatting. The two of us. Even when I’m crumbling into dust, it’s like the whole world seems right to me.” Just one thing bothered Fidelia: “Why the church, though?” Dolores shrugged. “For the challenge.” “Dim-witted vampire.” But [i]this[/i] smile came naturally.