"Sleep, Ha!" You laugh, "Like I'll ever be able to sleep when it dark outside again!"

You walk over to your couch and throw yourself over the back, you grab the remote and begin channel surfing. After about 20 minutes you give in and turn it to the SciFi channel, they're showing 'Dracula Meets the Martians.'

You find yourself fascinated by the vampire, you pointedly ignore the puppets and concentrate on the undead villain.

When a commercial for fat free muffins comes on, you wander into your small kitchen and pull a couple wooden spoons from a drawer. Breaking off the heads you clutch your new weapons to your side and go back to the couch. You feel much better now that you're armed.

By the time the sun has come up in the red Martian sky you're fast asleep.

You wake up to the sound of a slightly unstable giggle.

Without opening your eyes, you reach for the remote and turn off the TV.

//The following is a paid for advertisement by the JellO Corporation.//

'That's funny,' you think, 'I thought I hit the power button.' Cracking open your eyes, you press the same button and see the TV switch off. You frown, the TV had been off. Then what…

Another giggle.

You lay there a moment, desperately praying that you're dreaming but knowing you aren't.

You grope around under the cushions in search of your spoons.

"Looking for this?" A hand waves a broken utensil over your head.

You grab for it, but it's yanked away.
 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, now it's not nice to stake your guests." A voice tells you. Leaping off your couch you face the shadow-like man in your living room. "Who are you?" "Lucien Lacroix," He steps forward, into the shaft of light shining in from the hall, "at your service." He smiles at you.

Even if you hadn't figured out that this guy had to be a vampire, he would have made your skin crawl. There was something…wrong, in his eyes. "What do you want Lucien Lacroix?" You ask with false bravado.
 

"Oh, nothing," He smiles almost absently, settling himself on your couch, "To talk…chat…'chew the fat' I suppose."  You shift your weight uneasily from one foot to the other, unsure whether to make a run for it to try and talk to him. Ultimately you decide to: