#vampirejerry

* He closed the car door and glanced over his shoulder. Still a few minutes left then before the sun had fully dipped below the horizion. He lit a cigarette and took a few puffs. How very inconvieniant it must be to be so thourly trapped by the waxing and waning of the sun.

By the time he finished his smoke the sun was gone, a minute or two of early twilight had passed and he had folded away his sunglasses into his jacket pocket and knocked on Jerry's door. He would trust Amy to have her fun organizing her hunt while they were gone and perhaps it could be of some other use...

*Amy was by herself in the morgure working on the latest person to come in. The man had meet a horrible end. He had his head taken clean off, what looked like possibly an ax. Didn't suprise Amy though seeing the man was really a vampire. A Hunter must have found him.

She finished stitching him up, and was putting him in the cooler when she made sure to hide her cooler in a near by box. Hidden inside was the vampire's heart. A rare tastey treat for her. No one knew who she really was. She had made up the name Amy Marston. A while ago when times began to change, when no one believed in the gods of old. She had once been feared as the devourer of hearts, those who where unworth of a happy enternity. Funny how working with the dead and being seen in your true form while eating can make people believe such strange things. He would enjoy the vampire's heart later when by herself. It remind her for some reason of a type of jerky.

He sent out feelers to the others of his kind. Those who responded, a few stayed. Most wandered about for a few days. Some of them had even tried to attack once he told them who he was. One was sent went through an upstairs window as Adam stood in the frame smiling down at him. 

Eventually thick envelopes were mailed out. There would be more vampires in attendance but most of the local town had been invited as well.

we humbly as you to attend a 

Costume Ball

to celebrate with us the completion of restoration work of the

((random plantation address))

late 19th century costumes please

note; hand written on the back of some of the invitations "assholes will spend their night celebrating in the old slave pit"