It was another damn night, and it was the same old shit. The vampires were ripping this town apart. Three more muders in the newspaper. Didn't anyone know what was happening to this town?!

Damn vamps...witches' fault, it is, givin' 'em such powers. An' the ghosts ain't no help, turning girls into whores.

John ambled along with his shopping cart full of cans, picking up more here and there along the way.

Damn vampires...witches...ghosts...whores...

Laekin pulled the front door shut behind her and took the key from above the doorframe and locked the house up. The house. It wasn’t really a house, more like an horizontal apartment complex. Each house was identical inside and out, connected to the next apartment by a wall. Each house had two stories, two bedrooms, one bathroom, and two parking spaces in front of it.

Laekin was wearing a pair of light colored blue jeans, low cut boots beneath them with a pair of thick socks, a black turtle neck and a navy blue hoodie with U.S. Navy printed across the back in yellow letters and an emblem with U.S.S. Enterprise printed on the front. He red hair was left loose so that the wind could play with the soft curls.

She replaced the key above the door and skipped down the steps to the sidewalk. Now what?

Laekin sighed and turned, beginning to walk north from their apartment towards the nearest bus station. She paid fifty cents, showing her school ID for the discount, and was deposited near the Ellis Winter Memorial Library. There she sat in a warm corner and read a book for nearly an hour before her legs got restless and her mind wandered.

She was back out on the street now, lost and wishing that she had brought a jacket to wear over her sweater. When she sees the homeless man the thought runs through her mind in California he’s exactly the kind of man I would cross the street to avoid. But she doesn’t. She isn’t in California anymore and she has to accept that. She keeps walking towards him, her hands in her pocket and her hood pulled up over her red hair.

"And blondes...they're all blondes, or brunettes..damn whores...all of 'em..."

Course maybe the witches summoned 'em. Evil spirits. Ghosts. One and the same.

Yeah, that's it. The witches summoned 'em to help 'em with their spells...give the vamps their powers...they're taking over!

He suddenly stopped and looked around, but seemed to forget what he'd just thought and went on again, picking up cans and junk and rolling his cart along the street.

When he stopped, so did she. Laekin just stood there, watching the old man look around hopelessly, then continue to collect his ten cent cans. She frowned.

"Here ya go," she said, her voice soft and lilting. She dug in her pocket and found a handful of change that amounted to aproximatly ninty six cents. If she was cold, and she had only been out here in the cold as long as it had taken her to loose herself, then he was either freezing or just used to the cold. Either way it was sad.

She'd always been a bleeding heart. This man broke her heart. Poor Guy.

John started, then realized that she was offering him money. She wasn't a whore then. She gave money away freely.

"Thank you kindly, miss. Clearly you're not one of those ghost's filthy mongrels, and I thank you for that," he finished in a hoarse whisper. He took the money and stuffed into a filthy coat pocket. He adjusted the old army cap on his head and nodded. The man stunk to high heaven and then some, but at least he'd have meal in his belly the next morning.

I should point out that along with giving money away freely she's also not a blonde or brunette. The whisps of hair curling out from beneath her hood aginst her cheek are red, very red. She smiled at him when he took the money, dropping it into his hands in a way that she didn't have to brush her fingers aginst his.

Give her a break, she's a teenage girl and he is dirty.

"Excuse me?" She said, wondering if she had just been called a mongral without actually realizing it.

He smiled his near-toothless grin and proffered her a tall beer can.

"And here, my dear - a gift for your generosity. I fear I cannot give much more, but at least I can return your kindness. Thank you."

This last was said with a deep bow that he came up from with another grin. Then he grabbed his cart again and began heading along the alley again with a smile for the lass.

"I..." She wrinkled her nose at it, her eyes confused. "Thanks," she said slowly taking the can between finger and thumb and holding it away from her body.

She wondered if there was a point to giveing him that change or if he would just buy drugs or booze with it. Maybe she ought to carry something in the bottom of her book bag or in her purse, something that he would have been able to use. She made a note to carry a pack of crackers whenever she carried a bag.

"Wait," she said. "Stay here."

Laekin looked around, found a gas station, and she crossed the road to it, entering it still carrying the beer can.

A few moments later she came back, a styerphoam cup of hot chocolate in either hand, a bag hanging from her wrist. She looked to the entrance of the ally to see if he had waited.

He wondered briefly where she was going. It was one of those rare moments when his tired old mind shined through the insanity that the U. S. government had caused when they forced him and his team to assault that plant in China. They'd secured the place and the American and Canadian public were none the wiser, but the radiation had leaked into his brain. He was the only one to have survived, so far as he knew. By the time she'd returned, he had forgotten why he was waiting. He was just about to go when she showed up again.

"Ah," he said happily, "We meet again miss. And how are you this fine night?"

Where had he met her? He knew he'd seen her before, but he couldn't remember...

She smiled, beliving his 'we meet again' to be only for her amusment and not truely a declaration of having met a second time. She walked to him more confidently then she had before, approaching him with little caution.

"Here," she said, holding out one of the cups of steaming hot chocolate. She bent to set her own on the sidewalk and opened the bag. She took out a prewrapped ham sandwhich with cold ham, tomatos, and lettuce on it and handed it to him. "Have this, they're good." She didn't know that for sure but it looked like the same sandwhiches she got down the street from her father's apartment. It was the same sort of gas station at any rate. The bag contained two more of the same two dollar sandwhiches and a bottle of water.

"Ah," he said, delighted, as he took the proffered meal, "and a kind young girl you are. I thank you, and thank you again."

He sat down happily and began to eat and drink.

The sandwich was good, and the cocoa was certainly wonderful. Indeed, his old bones seemed rather shivery at the moment, but this would no doubt warm them right up!

He started chatting in what he thought was a conversational kind of tone, trying not to rant too much.

"You know, it's a good thing it's so late out here. Usually this place is filled with all kind of unsavory characters, all kinds! Vampires and witches and ghosts and whores, you know, and it's all the witches fault! They made a pact with the whores, made 'em beautiful they did so they could give the vampires power and then resurrect the ghosts to turn more girls into whores. But at least it's only the blondes and brunettes, they apparently don't favor those with lovely red curls like yours. Besides, you're too sweet and kind to be a whore or a witch, and certainly not a vampire. Besides that, would a ghost offer a weary old man food and drink? And again I thank you for that, young girl, you're too kind, too kind."

He continued his meal.

Laekin smiled. She pressed her back to the wall and sat down on the cold concrete, then picked up her hot chocolate and wrapped both of her hands around it to warm them. "Don't mention it," she replied.

The man ate the sandwhich and took his drink and thanked her prefusly. It made her feel good, she had a sense of accomplishment. There now, she thought, at least I've done something good in my life.

Then he began to talk. She frowned and became slowly wry of the man, leaning away from him a little bit, wondering if now would be the exact right moment to get up and leave. Then he said: But at least it's only the blondes and brunettes, they apparently don't favor those with lovely red curls like yours. Besides, you're too sweet and kind to be a whore or a witch, and certainly not a vampire. Besides that, would a ghost offer a weary old man food and drink?

While his babbling sounded insane it didn't seem as though he would attack her or turn on her. These ghosts and vampires that haunted him weren't her and he declaired that she was neither a whore nor a witch but a sweet girl. Of course, one has to wonder how stable a crazy man can be. In five minutes would she be the ghost or the whore? And if she were would he attack her?

She smiled meakly at the man, confident that she was safe, at least in the moment, and also weiry of what may happen. "I'm Leakin," she told him. He smelled bad but he seemed harmless enough. She needs a friend in this city, even if it's just a homeless man for a few minutes.

He continued eating and eventually finished. He sat there sipping his cocoa and watching her.

"Name's John Parker, miss, former full bird Colonel of the U. S. Army and leader of countless soldiers into enemy territory. Now I've just got this noble, humble profession, though, cleaning up the place and keeping it clean so we puny humans won't have a problem dealing with the vampires and whores, but I tell you, I get a little money out of it here and there and it's enough for the occasional sandwich and beer. What do you do for a living?"

He spoke as though what he said was nothing out of the ordinary, like they were in some kind of war every day and he didn't mind it a bit - like he was talking about the weather, or something.

Laekin listened paitently to him, noting the conversation seemed to have little to do with reality.

"I..uh...go to school," she told him. "I just moved into town. I don't have a job yet." She watched the sandwhich disappear. "I'm sorry," she said finally, her curiosity causing her to want to know what exactly he was thinking. "Is there a war that I didn't know about?"

She took a drink, bruned her tongue and her throat. She pulled the hood of her hoodie down so that she could better look at him without the sweater slashing half of his face out of view.

"Oh, yes, quite, young lady, quite, I'm surprised you didn't know about it! See, witches enslaved young brunettes and blondes to get their help - sacrifices, you see?!! - in creating vampires! Then they used the vampires' newfound powers to resurrect ghosts, that they then used to turn innocent girls into whores so that they could THEN - "

This last was said with a sudden shout and a sudden inhale, as though he were out of breath. He continued just as frantically.

"steal their souls because they were impure. They're trying to corrupt all of us, be we won't let them! You see?! And no one's the wiser because whores are so common on this planet! It's a damn conspiracy!

"But don't worry, you're perfectly safe. We'll get 'em, we will, an' KILL 'EM ALL!"

He finished with an empatic slap of his fist into his open palm and looked quite wild-eyed, but then suddenly calmed down and drank his cocao in silence - though he still looked wild-eyed, as though he might start ranting again. He really was quite insane, but he seemed not to notice.

She tried to follow him, her brow scrunched in concentration and her eyes intense on his face. She jumped and gave a soft yelp of surprise when he shouted ‘then’ and spilled a little of her cocoa on her hands. He went on and she continued to try and understand. When he shouted ‘kill em all’ she jumped, once more startled and spilt a little more on her hands. She shifted the cup to one hand and raised the other to suck a drop of cocoa off of her fingers.

She was leaning away from him once again, becoming nervous as he spoke of killing. A voice somewhere in the back of her mind asked if maybe he attacked young blondes and brunettes. She ignored it.

“But how do you create vampires from …brunettes and blondes?” she asked. “I didn’t know ghosts could be made from vampire powers.”

She would be spending a very long time in her journal tonight.

Was it crazy to try to understand the logic of a crazy person?

"Oh, who know why the bitches - I mean the witches, witches you understand! But they're all bitches! - do anything?! Who knows HOW they do anything! The point is they do."

He drank his cocoa. For a moment, he seemed to forget what he was. He looked at his cocoa, seemed to wonder at it, then continued drinking it as though nothing were wrong with it.

He seemed to calm, and wondered briefly why it was so cold tonight. He supposed it was always cold at night, but...

But it's the witches' fault, the damn bitches.

And his insanity was back.

Laekin sat uncomfortably. She watched it slowly grow darker, from dusk to full evening time and turned the cup in the hands, warming them, taking a drink, and then leaning her head back against the wall.

"It's cold," she told him, as if he didn't already know this. Her voice was soft. "Where do you sleep?" she asked him.

She wondered if he lived somewhere, had a life, a family, that he had wondered away from and never remembered. She had heard of such things happening before. A person with amnesia would start a whole new life, leaving another behind, lost and forgotten.

"Oh, whereever I get around to usually. I'm not the type to hunt for a bed, you know? One alley's as good as another!"

He finished his cocoa and set it aside. He stood up.

"Well, miss," he said with a stretch and a yawn, "I'd best be going. Thank you kindly for the meal, and watch out for those witches and whores! They're as tricky as the vamps, they are! They'll sell your soul to the ghosts if you're not careful!!"

With that, he grabbed his cart and offered another small bow.

"And I bid you a good night, my dear."

Settling his cap firmly on his head, he started down the alley again. He came out in a big, empty lot and stopped, mumbling to himself.

"This was never here before..."

And then, as though he suddenly remembered himself, "Oh, oh yes, yes it was. I must be losing my mind or something."

As though he hadn't already.

And so he ambled on.

Laekin shook her head and stood, dropping the grocery bag with the other two sandwiches into his cart. She heard him, his voice echoing down the ally way. 'I must be loosing my mind.'

She smiled to herself. Poor man. She looked around, then reentered the gas station to ask for directions. After all, she was lost.