"Vampires, real vampires, didn't nibble on the necks of nubile young virgins. They tore people to pieces and sucked the blood out of the chunks. "
- David Wellington, 99 Coffins: A Historical Vampire Tale

I'm John Young. My NetLink number is 635769-22-1. I'm all alone now, and I only have a short time left to write my story. The clock on my desk softly ticks away the seconds, reminding me of my destiny.

It's just past midnight, so technically I'm beginning the celebration of my forty-second birthday. However, we haven't honored such occasions recently. I'm not looking for sympathy. I just want to document what's happened to me and my family.

My recall is sharp right now, but that won't last much longer. I spent most of yesterday going through the journals I've kept throughout most of my adult life. I shed quite a few tears in the process, but I've earmarked a number of pages to help jog my memory. Sleep is no longer a friend, so I plan to write until I finish this story.

A late summer breeze stirs, carrying her intoxicating smell across the room. Hints of orchid and vanilla infiltrate my senses. Vibrant and seductive, it stirs something within me. She moves to her dresser and turns on the radio. Haunting, melodic notes waft through the night, a serenade for the dead. My eyes drift shut for a brief moment as the music speaks to me. I resist the urge to reach out and touch her, my unwitting bride. I remain rooted, content to watch from the shadows. What is a mere moment when compared to the promise of eternity? Our time approaches with swift peril.

The sound of rustling silk interrupts my fantasy as she turns the covers down. Her slender hand lingers over the mound of pillows. Delicate features twist into a mask of uncertainty. A distinct aroma fills the air, the smell of fear.

The house dream came every October for the past three years. It began on the first day of the month and ended on the last. Chloe didn't know why, but at this point, she was glad it came only one month of the year. The dream was more like a series of events taking place at the same house.

In the beginning, it wasn't so bad. In fact, she enjoyed the dream so much, she looked forward to sleep. That was before the horror took over. Chloe had escaped several times, but only because her husband was there to wake her up at each point of terror.

Tonight Chloe slept alone.

Every time Halloween comes around, I plan the most innocuous looking staging to trap some horrid stranger into my chamber.

Hello, my name is Tara. My friends like to call me "Tara-Rizer", because I am a frightfully prolific hunter. I am a diminutive, dark pixie, who sold my soul to the fiery pit's gatekeeper. Each year I am required to feed upon the spirit of a stranger and frighten him into madness, or death. Extra points are given for soul harvesting. Last year I made it to fifth place on the point tally sheet. This year I shall be the winning Pixie of Darkness.

Mr. Moon is full tonight. I can just see him if I stand on the table by my bed, on my tippy-toes. When you stand like that, you can look out of the basement window and see our backyard. I pull on my chains so I can see Mr. Moon better. He's just sneaking over Mr. Wolfson's roof next door, just like he's playing peek-a-boo. I don't play peek-a-boo anymore. That's for babies. Mr. Wolfson used to let me play with his puppy, though. He's nice to me. His puppy gave me kisses sometimes.

My swing set is in the backyard. It's all shiny in the moonlight. It looks real pretty when Mr. Moon shines on it. I wish Mr. Moon would shine on me.

I wish I could play on my swing set. But not tonight. Mr. Moon is full tonight.

Kathy had forgotten when the habit started. On her walk past him, Kathy handed him a dollar or a hot beverage from the coffee shop down the street. Sometimes she gave him a piece of fruit or a granola bar.

They never spoke a word to each other. It wasn't needed somehow. Every evening he watched her come toward him. As she leaned closer to hand him the goody of the day he stretched out his seven-fingered hand. There was no thumb. He had seven fingers on each hand. Kathy wondered if the lack of an opposing thumb and being labeled a freak for his deformity was part of the cause for the way he lived. Upon receipt of his treat he watched her walk home.

The wind howled outside, tearing at the trees, banging shutters to and fro, an angry vortex of sound. The rain came, torrents pounding against the roofs and windows. Dogs cowered in their kennels, windows were closed, and curtains drawn against the tempestuous elements raging outside. Branches cracked and crashed to the ground. I heard none of it.

Cocooned in my studio and locked into my own demons, the raging outside was nothing compared to the emotions that swept through me as I frenziedly splashed paint onto the canvas in front of me. I had to hold on the visions converging and crashing in my head, before they fragmented and flared away into the darkness - lost forever.

Trepidation was the best word I could use to describe entering the study of Edgar Allan Poe. My heart racing and my palms sweating, the empty room was enough to fill me with a sense of unease. The night itself was not helping my demeanor. A loud clap of thunder brought my gaze to the window.

Lightening flashed, revealing the form of a raven battering against the study window. His loud shriek of a caw making me ears ring even as I jumped in fright. My hand lifted, covering the point where my heart beat a wild rhythm in my chest. The steady kathunk kathunk of that organ doing little to set me at ease or prove that I was indeed still among the living.

Try to do an interview with zombies around.

Amazing NL I loved every bit of it and glad Dan Brown was first! he is the most amazing author as Deception Point is now my most favorite book of all time!

It was wonderful hearing about published authors' experiences with writing, reading, researching, and beyond. Might I ask, how do you get in touch with them personally? Or do you send questions to their agents or secretaries?

A disturbing tale I wrote for the daily slice. Enjoy!?