Blue Collar

A small, balding, fat man sat comfortably in his chair. The only thing separating him from the gaunt, pale figure across from him was the large desk. He adjusted the desk-lamp by his side and shuffled through papers while the man opposite him gave him a cold, dead stare.

The gaunt figure sat content in the near darkness that surrounded him. He sat silently, suffering through a particularly bad hunger. A hunger for blood.

The small man finally cleared his throat. "Now, Marcus..."

"Nathan."

"Er, Nathan. Excuse me." He tapped the papers together on his desk and placed them back down. Nathan could quite easily see that the papers were blank and that this man was an idiot. "How long have you been with us?"

"Five months."

"Exactly. And in the last four of those five months, you have been constantly late."

"I came in tonight."

The man grumbled, "Yes, that is true, but your tardiness is the least of your problems. I get reports of strange behav--"

"My condition."

"Condition?! It's beginning to look like you're simply trying to scare your coworkers! Not only that, but other late shift employees have come up missing."

"I--"

"And don't tell me you have nothing to do with it. It's only on the nights you work that they turn up missing."

"Coincidence."

The boss shook his head. "I'm sorry, Marc...er... Nathan, but you're costing the company money, and at a time like this, we can't afford that." He slid over a piece of paper to Nathan. His final paycheck.

Nathan snapped it up in his hand and glared at his now former boss, the light from the desk-lamp catching his face in a menacing appearance as he stood. "You're lucky the grease in your veins keeps me from wanting to drain the life from you." He grinned, baring his vampiric canines and quietly slipped out the door.

The small, fat man grabbed his chest. It seemed he was having yet another attack.

Nathan sighed, looking at the check he held before himself. It would pay the rent, sure, but beyond that it wasn't much. He shoved it into his pocket and exited the building. He gazed across the parking lot. Four cars. His was a small, far less than perfect vehicle. He grimaced at the sight of it. He could steal a rich man's home if he wanted to and here he was settling for legitimacy.

His ears perked up at the beep of an alarm being shut off. A male coworker was cautiously making his way toward the decent compact under one of the lamps. He seemed to have the nerves of a little girl. "Hi," Nathan spoke from outside the circle of light on the pavement.

The coworker jumped with a small scream and then placed his hand on his chest. "Jesus, Nate, you scared the bejebus out of me." He looked around. "Oh, good, you're alone." At those words, the man blushed.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Starving. Fired."

"Oh, that's too bad. I'd invite you to get something at the late diner, but I've got someone waiting at home if you know what I mean."

"That's ok." He turned to walk away, hands in his pockets.

"Oh, and Nate?"

Nathan looked up, not turning back to look as he heard a car door open. "Yeah?"

"Since I'm probably never going to see you again, I just wanted to say..." he giggled, "you've got a nice ass." He jumped in the car and was quick to leave the scene.

Nathan was stunned as he stood there watching the small car leave the parking lot. He shook his head. "Strange people."

The diner seemed like an appropriate spot for a meal, he thought as he drove down the dark streets. His hunger had grown immensely since he had passed up the man in the parking lot. What a time to be picky.

He came to a stop at a red light. It seemed to be taunting him, causing salivation as he sniffed the air for the faintest trace of blood. Not another car in sight as his eyes darted about. He didn't know where the diner was. The hunger was maddening. The light wasn't changing! "Goddamnit! Augh!" And just as he let his foot off the brake, the light changed.

He pulled into yet another parking lot. This time, that of a bar. Drunkards were easy targets and rarely missed. Not bothering to lock his car, he made his way into the establishment. He glanced in the direction of the bartender and made his way to the dimly lit booths in the back.

Nathan stopped before a table sporting a few empty glasses and a lonely, crying girl. "Excuse me," he said in a soft tone.

She looked up with a sniffle, "Thought I could avoid people back here. It's so dark and nobody cares."

"Why don't we just cut to the chase here, miss." He sat down and slid over next to the drunk girl. "I'm a very hungry vampire and you're obviously depressed and lonely after some pointless breakup. Probably not your first one."

She leaned her head against this stranger in her booth. "Mmm... you looked like one. Please just take me away."

"With pleasure." He sank his fangs into her soft neck and supped of the intoxicating blood.

She flinched as the slight pain of tooth to flesh. Before she could change her mind in objection, she felt faint and lost consciousness.

The vampire finished his meal and propped up the all but dead girl in the booth. He dropped the last of his cash on the table as he stood, respectfully paying for the girl's empty drinks. Another night quenched. He could sleep in peace.

Nathan awoke with the worst hangover in his entire undead existence. The curse of draining drunkards was a harsh one. He pushed off the lid of the plywood box he slept in and pathetically climbed out, dragging himself to the kitchen in his tiny apartment. He opened the fridge, cursing the light inside for his doubly intense sensitivity to it. The only thing inside, a large Styrofoam cup, seemed to stare back at him. He grabbed it and shut the door.

Plopping down on a free chair, he scraped the bottom of the red stained cup. Nothing but crusty congealed pig's blood. A quick toss, and the cup bounced into the sink. He dropped his face into his hands, leaning his elbows on the table.

The last three jobs, he remembered, had ended the same. He sighed. "Feh. Only way to stop me from doing that would be to get a day job." He laughed. "Insane."

Nathan got to his feet and headed out the front door of his apartment. It was time for a drink.

The week went by fairly quickly for Nathan. It had been a while since he was out on his own without worrying about an obligation to a paying job. He was quite content to be out till near sunrise and booking it back toward his tiny apartment. It wasn't too bad a place, just terribly small.

One particular night, before stopping to count the leaves on a newly planted tree, he happened to glance over at a sign in a nearby window. "Help Wanted" Before his thoughts could wander too much on the subject, however, he found the tree.

"One thirty-seven. One thirty-eight."

"Excuse me?," a voice followed by a finger tapping his shoulder spoke to Nathan.

He didn't bother to look to see who had was trying to get his attention, "One thirty-nine. One-forty. Yes? One fourty-one. One fourty-two. One fort--"

"What the hell are you doing?"

He grumbled. "Eee three. I'm counting leaves." Nathan gritted his teeth, doing his best to ignore. "One forty-four."

"Seems pretty stupid," said the voice, "you goth people are weird."

"One fourty... ergh... six." He stared at the leaves, grimacing as his eyes darted about individual leaves.

"Weren't you on--"

"YES!" He spun around, throwing his hands in the air. "God! You people have been calling it OCD for years now. It just so happens it's a particular vampiric affliction!" He sighed in aggrivation, already clearly noting this scantily clad girl before him was a prostitute. "And I'm not Goth, you idiot. I'm the real thing." He bounced his fingers off his chest, approaching the girl with fangs clearly visible.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head in shock before she freaked and gave him a swift kick in the groin. The both of them screamed and the hooker ran. Far too involved woth the pain, Nathan didn't bother to chase her down. Instead he fell to the ground, staring across the street at the sign in the window.

The next night, Nathan awoke to the now familiar pain. The only thing to come to his mind... revenge. He climbed out of his box and was quick to return to the scene of the crime. His hands remained in his pockets as his gaze fell straight to the ground. He knew that tree would still be there. A flash of green on the ground and he moved his gaze, not wanting to count any leaves that had since fallen. Once again, the sign.

"Help Wanted"

He stared for a moment and then smirked. Without even bothering to look, he headed straight across the street. A car swerved to avoid him and the driver was heard yelling at him from down the street. Nathan didn't even flinch.

A bell dingled over the door and behind the counter a face looked up. She attempted to look cheery with a fake smile amd looked over to the pale, gaunt figure who had walked in off the street. "Hello," she said almoat as if asking him to leave, "May I... help you?" She looked him over.

Nathan reached over and pulled the sign from the window, "Your sign. I'm looking for work."

"Oh," she seemed a bit relieved. "Well... you'd be working in the back, doing print jobs."

"S'no problem."

"I'll go get the manager. You wait here." With that, the girl stood up from leaning on the counter and headed back. Nathan found a chair next to a large, coin-op copier and sat with the sign in his hands. It was only now he realized what this place was as the scent of ink met his nose. He could tell is was mostly dry. Must be a slow night, he figured.

A few moments later, an older woman, possibly in her fifties, came out from the back, followed by the girl who had met Nathan when he came in. She wore a blue pants suit; obviously the manager. The vampire stood up appearing somewhat foreboding, though he wasn't trying to. He immediately held up the sign to break the new awkward silence. "I'm here about the job."

The manager snapped up the sign from his hands. "Great. You're hired!"

"Excuse me?"

"That sign'd been there for a week and you're the first person to come in here asking about it. Come on back and I'll get you some papers to fill out..."

"Nathan."

"Nathan." The woman shook his cold hand without bothering to wonder why it was so. She then lead him toward an office in the back.

Shortly thereafter, Nathan was coming out, sporting a slightly used baseball cap and carrying an apron. "Thanks," he said, taking the cap off his head, feeling ridiculous with it on. He turned around to face his new manager. "See you tomorrow at eight, then?"

"Oh, no," she laughed a bit, "The day manager'll be here."

Nathan gave a look of slight shock and blinked before stammering a few words out, "Ngh... day?!" But of course, she had already started heading to the office in the back and was ignoring him. He looked to the girl still at the counter. "Day manager?"

She looked up. "Oh, he's not so bad. Most everyone likes him."

"But... day... I can't--"

"Can't what? You want me to put the sign back? Jen's not going to be too happy to put that back up." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "And I guess you just want to go back out there and look for a job. Heh. Yeah, good luck."

Nathan gritted his teeth. "No. I'll be in at eight," he groaned, "in the morning." The bell on the door dingled as he headed out.

Once out, he headed straight back across the street, once again ignoring traffic entirely. Before he could direct his gaze down, he had caught a glimpse of the small tree and looked up to count. He grumbled trying to fight the urge, and failing miserably. Before he could reach four, however, a large sedan with gold rims and tinted windows pulled up.

Nathan didn't bother to look as the passenger side window rolled down. "Hey," a voice said from inside.

Nathan merely grumbled and kept looking at the leaves.

"Hey!," the voice was getting angry. The car rocked as someone moved about inside. "Pay attention, stupid!" Again, hardly a reaction from Nathan. "Alright, freak. Dunno what your deal is, but you're not gonna be messin' wit my girls, you got that, freak?!" Nothing. "Maybe this'll get yer attention, fucker." A handgun attached to a hand extended out from the open window and three bullets met with the vampire at near point blank range. The large sedan sped away as Nathan lay motionless on the ground. He had already dropped his new uniform before counting.

A few minutes passed before he opened his eyes. A small group was standing around him and he heard, "Holy shit! He's alive!" He pushed himself up and sat up, looking at the people around him. Five.

He looked up, angrily, "What?" A hand reached down to help him up and Nathan swatted it away. "I'm fine. Leave me alone." He grabbed the hat and apron, rather quickly getting to his feet. The sound of sirens filled the air and he was off, knowing that explaining his survival to a few paramedics was likely to get him in a bit of trouble.

Nathan ran into his small apartment and slammed the door, leaning against it. He looked down, noticing three bloodstained bullet holes next to each other in his shirt. He sighed, "Ugh... what a night. Barely started and already people are trying to kill me." He threw down the apron and hat, tossing his shirt off on-top of the small pile.

A quick change and he was right back out on the street, albeit a completely different street. He was going to need a lot of blood to deal with the following day.

The next day came a bit too fast for Nathan as his alarm buzzed. He suddenly sat up, banging his head on the lid of his box. "Ow. Fuck." The small alarm clock bounced off where it had been sitting, right on-top of his box and buzzed into the carpet. He raised his gangly form out of the plywood construct and clenched his eyes shut at the tiny slits of light burned in his vision.

He staggered about the room in his blindness in search of the sunglasses he had long forgotten about. Almost miraculously, he found the old dresser in the corner and routed through a few drawers till his fingers met with the plastic frames. He smiled as he slipped them on.

All the while, the muffled sound of the alarm in the carpet still buzzed in his pointed ears. He stepped on over his box, reached down with a grunt, and picked it up. He flicked it off and tossed the battery-powered nuisance back onto the floor. 7:05. Plenty of time to get dressed.

He started with his usual black attire. The shirt, pants, and shoes. Then, looking down at his pale white arms, he walked over to his closet and pulled out a long coat. He shut the door with his foot and pulled out a pair of gloves from one of the pockets of the coat. Probably should have put the glasses in the other, he thought. He stuck in his left, then his right arm and pulled up the collar before slipping on the gloves.

He made his way back to the pile of clothing next to the front door, pulled the hat from it and slipped it on his head. Nathan was about to step out the door, when he leaned back over the pile and pulled out the apron. He held onto it as he made his way back down to the street.

He walked past the tree and where he'd been shot, noting the traffic. It was much thicker than the night had it. Grumbling, he moved on ahead to the crosswalk. As he stood in wait for the little green man, Nathan started to nod off. He shook head to keep awake as someone nudged him to cross. Head down to avoid the sun, he crossed the street slowly.

The door dingled open and a face behind the counter looked up, almost immediately noticing Nathan's borrowed hat. "Whoah... hey. Guess you're Nate. Your early."

Nathan looked up slightly and grunted, noticing the employee. Obviously not the same one from the night before.

The young man behind the counter looked at the vampire, blinking a bit at the pale face before him. "Ooh... uh... what's with the--"

"Skin condition," Nathan grunted, "You mind if I work in the dark back there?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Thanks." He unfolded the slightly dirty apron and slipped it on before slowly making his way past his new coworker and into the back. He looked around the area, immediately spotting a folding chair and a closet door. He slowly walked over, opened the door, and pushed the chair in. He followed, shutting himself in and falling asleep.

The door dingled once again and the kid behind the counter jumped, having been distracted by watching Nathan make his way into the closet where the ink was stored. He made his way back to the counter, cleared his throat and stuttered a bit, "H..hello, Ma'am, may I help you?"

"You guys make signs?"

"Yeah. Signs."