Interviews

They lead me to another room with a table and some chairs. I’m just about to start thinking an interrogation is going down when the doc hands me a slip of paper and the first question on it is for my social security number. “They weren’t kidding when they said this place was new,” I mutter as I sit down and look over the questions. Hometown? Last place of residence? What the fuck was this supposed to be? I must’ve been staring too long because the doctor patiently pulls the paper away, pulls out a pen, and directs my attention to the lovely she-wolf. “Tell me, Mr. Shade, what do you think of the Paladins of Light?” she asked. I tell her I think the name is lousy and ask for a cigarette. To my surprise, she obliges me. The doctor tries out a couple of the resume questions on me instead. “Are you from America, Mr. Shade?” I tell him to write Eastern Transylvania and he’s about to start when I cut him off with a snort. “I’m from Hemingway, South Carolina. It’s about as bumble fuck a town as it gets man,” I explain. “I haven’t been there in decades. It’s just easier to keep the slurps quiet and easy in a bigger city,” I add. The doctor looks at me blankly and I have to explain that it’s slang for murdering a person by sucking out their life force. They all get quiet on that one, but I’m not sure why the she-wolf was so bothered. Her eyes bulged a bit because she keeps that cool face. The more I look at her though, the more I start to notice that she’s a bit too small. A bit too passive for a werewolf, not enough aggression. “I must say, we’re all very pleased with your attitude so far. Most of the other vampires wanted to go out fighting when they realized they’d been cured. It’s nice that you’re a bit more…weak,” she says darkly.