Autumn 2007 Volume One Issue Four

Nightmare at the Nursing Home - Jenny Schwarz

Vlad the vampire loved nursing homes. The thin blood suited him and the sleeping pills doled out like candy made his visits easy. Tonight there was even an open window. Vlad hopped in.

He looked at the bed and smiled. Bless the old darling, she looked toothsome. Her parchment skin trembled with every breath. Vlad caressed the wrinkled neck and bent to his supper.

Whack! An age-spotted hand smacked him upside the head with a bible. Vlad staggered back. "What the -- ?"

Old people shuffled, wheeled and stumbled into the room. The window slammed shut. The walking dead had risen.

"Let's be reasonable," said Vlad.

Miss Odwin rattled her rosary beads.

Vlad dashed for the door.

Garlic breath befogged him. "Way to go, Mr Chong," shouted someone. A second almighty belch blinded Vlad. He shrieked as holy water sprayed him.

"Made it myself," said Reverend Farbuncle.

"Nurse!" cried Vlad.

"She's sleeping," the chorus cackled. "Aren't drugs wonderful?"

"No," whimpered Vlad.

"We love visitors," said Miss Odwin.

"Yeah," said Mr Chong. "We love them shish-kebab."

The point-sharpened walking stick thrust home. Vlad ceased to worry about existence.

"Can you manage him?" Mrs Agnew -- she of the bible and parchment skin -- asked Mr Loone.

"The kid's a lightweight," boasted Mr Loone, and drove his doubly laden electric wheelchair to the laundry chute.

"Bye-bye," chorused the old folk.

Thump-kerplunk, echoed back.

- END -

Jenny Schwartz is an Australian writer, fuelled by fair trade coffee. She is an armchair socialist (an idealist when it's not too much trouble). Her first fantasy novel, The Walk Alones, is published by Double Dragon Publishing.

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