We Don’t Serve Your Kind Here

Photo © Etol Bagam
Photo © Etol Bagam

Horace could smell the humans entering the bar almost as quickly as he’d spotted them. It never failed to amaze him how often fresh meat wandered into his establishment, unaware of the danger. Sighing, he looked around for the mop he kept behind the bar.

Jackie and Tim weaved their way through the bar patrons and approached Horace.

Newlyweds,” thought Horace glumly. He could always tell.

“Hi um… we’ll have a couple of rum and cokes, please,” requested Tim.

Horace leaned in and said in a low voice, “Look, you two should leave. This place isn’t safe.”

With that he flashed his fangs, revealing the true nature of the establishment to the young mortals. Eyes wide with terror, Jackie and Tim flew out the door of The Bloody Mary Bar.

Garret, a grizzled old vampire looked up from his dark crimson drink at Horace, confused.

“Why did ya do that?”

Horace sighed again. “Every time humans come in, things get messy and I just had this floor refinished.”

Garret smiled.

Softie,” he thought.

Word Count: 173

[This is my entry this week into the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. A photo prompt is given and writers are encouraged to create a short story of 100 – 150 words, + or – 25 words.]



16 thoughts on “We Don’t Serve Your Kind Here

  1. Not such a bad guy maybe. He let the Newly Weds go, when they could have been a tasty drink. Blood is hard to get of floors, wood especially. My one brother had a lot of bleeding noses when he was young. Catchy writing as usual.

    Liked by 1 person

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