Raven opened his eyes and listened.
They stopped right above his head.
He sat up. “Who’s there?”
“Is someone there?”
Of course. He climbed out of bed. My friends.
“Raven! Come in here. Watch this stupid vampire drama with us.”
He walked to his bedroom door and opened it.
“Whoever wrote this tv show didn’t know one single thing about vampires. Hahahaha! What’s with all the coffins? Hahaha! Why are all the vampires Irish? Hahaha!”
He left his room and headed towards Ambrose’s room.
“You are the best, Raven.” “Be careful out there. Don’t get hurt.” “Yeah. I don’t know what we would do without you.”
He entered Ambrose’s room and crawled into bed with him.
“Raven. Raven. Raven. Raven. Raven.”
He wrapped his arms around Ambrose’s chest.
Ambrose startled. “Nngh! What?” He grabbed Raven’s wrists.
“Raven?” He raised his head. “Why the bloody blue blazes are you in my bed, snuggling with me?”
“I need companionship, sir.”
“Yeah? Well. Companionship yourself back to your own room. I’m tired. I don’t want to deal with any touchy stuff right now. Just space. Space.”
“Please let me stay here, sir. I need physical contact so I may sleep.”
“Physical contact. Yeah. No. Go back to bed, Raven, before I pick you up and slam dunk you into your bed.”
“If you’re concerned about me making any unwanted advances, sir, trust me. That is far from my intent. I only want to hold on to you so the voices will stop.”
Ambrose sighed. “I wonder if you realize just how crazy that sounds.”
“Yet, it does work.”
“That’s not what I… oh, forget it.” He head flumped back onto his pillow. “I don’t feel like dragging this conversation any further. Too tired. Just remember: You try touching me inappropriately, I’ll throw you out the window. Through the glass. Am I clear?”
“Lovely.” He sighed and fell asleep.
Raven laid his face against Ambrose’s back.
And he saw them in his mind.
They lay out in the sunlight. Their fear still on their faces.
None of them were alive.
He tightened his grip on Ambrose, which earned him a sharp elbow jab.
My dear friends.
I failed you.
Tears stained the back of Ambrose’s shirt.
And I can do nothing to set it right.
He buried them. One at a time. Each one in his own grave.
He closed his eyes. I’m so sorry.