Sundays at Vampire Night were no fun for a ten-year-old. Not when your mum brought you along and made you sit in the corner with a blood transfusion pack and a rusty old Slinky toy.
Nancy looked over and saw her mother, Crystal, burying her face into the neck of some poor sod who'd been lured in by her. She sighed and set the Slinky up again to unfold itself off the table.
She looked up and saw a boy of a similar age sitting nearby. She smiled sadly. He smiled back, revealing his own tell-tale fangs.
John Judge over 4 years ago
It seems not everyone loves a slinky