“Luculent, that is the word I need”. He said it even though no one was there to listen. Montgomery Chalmers was writing his memoir. He closed his tablet and pushed it away from him. He took off his glasses and he stood up to stretch. Suddenly, He could not believe what he was seeing. Black eyes. No pupil, no expression, just black. She sat motionless on the edge of his desk. Like one of those Gargoyles you see on old buildings. Her hands grasping the wood. She was sort of leaning forward, on her haunches. Her hair was long, sensual, dark. Her skin like Alabaster showing each blue-green vein. All of that was breathtaking, but it was her mouth, those lips, wet, red, full, No! his mind screamed. No! those teeth. He was sure he had locked the door, but she didn’t come through the door. She had leapt through the window. She was swaying now, making a low guttural sound.Her black eyes glaring at him. He could smell the blood on her mouth. Her teeth. like hundreds of tiny porcelain nails, razor-sharp and so close. She leaned out further and sniffed him like an animal might sniff you. He couldn’t move. He forced himself to breathe ” Vampire” he said. “Oh My God You’re a Vampire” He was in awe of this creature thirty seconds before she chewed his heart out of his chest with her teeth.When he died Leslie was twelve blocks away and snug in her bed. Her alarm went off at 5:15am. Leslie hated Mondays. She had a little headache this morning as she pulled her mop heads out of the dryer. She placed all her dusting cloths and rags in a bucket with the mop heads and set it by the door. She had put on a little makeup. She had curled her hair too. Janice and Diane came running down the stairs one right after the other. Janice headed for the Pop Tarts on the table. “Mom, I wish you would get the name brand” she said. Diane said “Get over it Janice, there are people starving everywhere and you are complaining about your Pop Tarts”. Janice laughed and said “What can I say, I like the finer things in life”. Leslie shook her head and said “Janice, you have champagne taste on beer money. Now you two hurry up. Diane put some more coffee in my cup and take it to the car. Janice get your Pop Tarts and grab my bucket. I don’t want to be late today!!!” The girls did what she asked and Leslie took a final look in the mirror. Her dark blonde hair looked good today. She felt good. “You can do this Leslie” she said out loud as she left. The girls were going to the bus stop, they both said “Love you Mom, Good Luck today” as they got out of the car. She watched them in the rear view mirror as they sat on down on the bench to wait. Her blonde, beautiful twin daughters. They waved as she drove away She was going to ask for a raise today. A long over due raise. Leslie Simon had been cleaning for Montgomery Chalmers for six years. She still received $288.00 a week.She had heard other maids received twice that. She thought of that as she pulled up to the curb in front of Mr. Chalmers house. She got out and grabbed her bucket from the back. It was starting to drizzle. She wished she had brought her umbrella. She ran to the door and turned the knob. It was locked. In six years it had never been locked. Mr. Chalmers always gets up at exactly 5:30am. He works out, showers, gets dressed and unlocks the back door for Leslie at precisely 7:00am. Monday through Saturday without fail. She tried it again and then she went round to the front. She went to the door and rang the door bell. She waited. No sound coming from inside . She walked out into the yard and looked up toward his office. The window was open, the sheers were moving back and forth from the wind. The spotless white sheers that she washed every other month were speckled with something dark, almost red. She called out “Mister Chalmers!!! Mister Chalmers” still she heard no response. She knew something was wrong. She just didn’t know what. She went back to the porch. It was turning cold. She now had leaves and wet grass on her shoes and she was certain her hair was flat. She was wet and cold and pissed off. She looked under the flower-pot by the door,No key. She lifted the rug, No key, She went to the edge of the big wrap around porch and looked around. On the little wicker table was a coffee cup on a saucer. on top of a blue and white tray. She lifted it up, key. She pushed it in and turned the dead bolt. The door opened but just so far. “Dammit” she said out loud as she wedged her arm inside and maneuvered herself around until she could pop the chain lock free. She turned around,. grabbed her bucket and went inside. She shut door and said “Mr. Chalmers”. Maybe he is sick she thought. She hurried to the kitchen. She sat her bucket down and hurriedly grabbed her apron and hung her jacket in its place on the hook beside the back door. She wiped her feet on the back door mat and decided she would vacuum up the leaves and grass when they dried. She stepped into the bathroom and flipped on the fluorescent light. She kept a comb on the shelf and she used it to try to repair her damp hair. She smoothed her shirt and pulled her apron over her head and tied it snug around her waist. She headed to the kitchen and flipped on the lights. They made a little humming sound as they came on. She prepared coffee and made a cup for Mr. Chalmers which she placed on the big bamboo breakfast tray and a cup for herself. She put a small pitcher of cream. A bowl half full of Raisin Bran. Four packages of Equal. She got the cutting board and cut a grapefruit in half. She sectioned it out and put it on a small plate. She folded the linen napkin and placed the silverware on top. She looked out the window to see if the paper had arrived yet. She ran out the back as fast as she could and grabbed it out of the box. It had stopped raining but it was even colder than before. She hurried in and tucked the paper under her arm as she picked up the tray. She headed up the stairs. She called out again “Mr Chalmers”. She sat the tray and paper on the bench in the hall and knocked on his bedroom door. It was not shut all the way. He was not in his room.She pushed the button on the lamp. She turned around and walked toward his office. She didn’t call out again. She turned the knob and it was locked. She smelled something horrible. It reminded her of the nursing home she used to work at. It smelled like someone had messed the bed. “Mr. Chalmers”. This time she sounded worried. She left the food on the tray. She ran down the stairs. The wood was dark. The stair rail polished. She was aware of how still everything was. She hurried out the door. She peered into the garage window. Mr. Chalmers would have driven the Bentley if he went out. It was there in the garage. The cover neatly fixed over it as always. Leslie felt like she might vomit. She remembered that whatever was on those sheers looked like blood.