"Come in out of the storm," said the kind old lady. "We wouldn't think of asking you to pay. It would not be very hospitable to take money from one who is forced to seek shelter on such a terrible night. Come in and meet my husband and my son. We are just about to have supper."
Chris breathed more easily as he followed her through the dark hallway into a living-room furnished with antiques, and occupied by two men, one young, one old.
"It's very kind of you to let me in," he was saying a few minutes later. "There are such strange stories about this part of the country."
"Really?" inquired the handsome young man sitting next to him. "I've never heard of them."
"Surely you have," said Chris. "Haven't you heard about the vampires that are supposed to haunt these hills? Not that I believe in such things of course."
"Vampires? No, I can't say that I've ever heard the name. No one in this town ever talks about them. Could you describe them to us?"
"Well, they're ¡K No, I'd rather not," he said, looking at the old man and woman. I don't want to disturb your mother with such tales."
"Thank you!" said the old lady. "I do scare very easily, you know, and I don't like the sound of these vampire things at all. But you can tell the men all about it while I get the supper." And she left the room.
"Vampires," began Chris, "are mythological creatures which ¡K well, they can't eat ordinary food like you and I eat. Instead they have to eat ¡K" His voice trailed off as he heard the footsteps of the young man's mother entering the room again. In front of each of the men she placed a large bowl and a spoon, then sat down herself.
Chris watched the men's faces light up as they started to sip the liquid off their spoons. "Delicious!" they agreed. Chris lifted his spoon to his mouth, at the same time staring out the window at the flashes of lightning and the increasing torrents of rain. He brought the strange food to his mouth, tipped the spoon and drank. The thunder echoed around him as his chair slid backwards and he fell forward in a faint, his face landing in the bowl in front of him - the bowl of blood.