“Are you totally out of your freakin’ mind? A fuckin’ vampire? There’s no such thing, Billy. Look at me. Listen to me. There’s no such fuckin’ thing!” “I’m telling you what I saw,” Billy snapped. “That guy had fangs as big as a tiger’s— and not only that, his face was like, contorted, somehow. Not human.” “You’re nuts,” Frank sneered. “What the hell were you on, for Chrissakes?” “Listen, Frank.” Billy raised a warning hand near Frank’s face. “Don’t go tellin’ me I’m nuts. I know what I saw. And what about when Whitey shot him? That bullet hit him right in the middle of his chest. It hardly fazed him. Made him stagger some is all. Then he was all over us again. I’m telling you, the guy’s not human—not real.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Frank turned away from his friend in disgust. “Horseshit, Billy, just plain horseshit. Whitey missed the son-of-a-bitch, that’s all.” “Okay, fine, you don’t believe me.” “Of course, I don’t believe you.
