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A Night Out 

“This movie looks so real!” the woman in the car next to him shrieked. He wished they would put the top up. Danny didn’t want to hear how impressed with the cheesy special effects she was. They were awful. What a stupid horror movie this was. Not only were the blood and guts cheesy, but the deaths made no sense at all.

Danny watched as a man was beheaded with a machete in one clean sweep. Impossible. Especially for that machete. It was old, rusty, and slightly blunted. How could it chop through muscle, sinew, and vertebrae? It would take several whacks to cut through a human neck. Wouldn’t that be more terrifying? To watch this killer chop away at the poor teen’s neck until it was finally severed.

But the two young lovers in the convertible next to him ate it up. Each death was dumber and sillier than the last. Danny started to wonder if this was supposed to be a comedy. There was nothing scary about the movie. And that silly mask. Was the killer a hockey player? Danny couldn’t follow it at all. What a waste of money this picture at the drive-in had turned out to be.

The girl in the next car over gasped again, but Danny missed what she had gasped at. He was no longer paying attention to the movie. His eyes had drifted down to his car dashboard. In his mind, he thought about what it really looked like to behead someone. It didn’t look anything like the movie at all. The familiar craving had risen in his gut again. His eyes lost their focus and the emblem of the galloping horse on the steering wheel became a blur.

“Greg, I have to use the bathroom,” the woman in the car next to him said.

“And?” the man in the driver’s seat replied.

“I don’t want to go alone,” she responded.

“What are you scared? It’s just a movie,” the man laughed and the woman stormed out of the car in a huff. She flew past Danny’s car and the aroma of her hairspray wafted by.

Danny knew an opportunity when he saw one. He waited a few minutes. When enough time had passed, he calmly stepped out of the car and circled around to his trunk. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Danny popped the trunk and stuffed something under his jacket as quick as he could. Then, he headed off for the restroom.

The bathrooms were in the back of the building which housed the projector and concession stand. It was dark near the bathrooms to keep from bothering the patrons watching the movie. A small light shone from under the bathroom door. He knew opening it would draw attention, but if he moved quick no one would see him.

With lightning speed, Danny ripped open the restroom door and slipped inside. Once in, he locked the door behind him. There were two stalls and a little sink under a dirty mirror. Only one pair of feet stuck out from the bottom of the stall. His prey was locked in with him.

He stepped gracefully across the tile floor until he was outside of the occupied stall. Danny readied the machete in one hand and prepared to kick open the door. Suddenly, the door exploded into a burst of shrapnel and splinters. The force shoved Danny into the wall behind him. Towering over him stood the woman he had followed in. She looked different now. Her features were all distorted and grotesque.

Her mouth opened unnaturally wide and her teeth grew to thin points like razors. Color drained from her face and her hair whipped wildly in a non-existent breeze. Danny tried to let out a yell of terror, but the woman pounced on him. Her fangs ripped into the tender flesh of his neck. There was an audible gurgle as Danny tried desperately to scream. Warm blood oozed down his chest and he started to feel cold. Then, darkness took hold of Danny.

When her task was finished, the woman walked over to the mirror and fixed her makeup. A little drop of blood rested on her chin and she wiped it off gently with a paper towel. When she was certain she looked her best, the woman exited the bathroom and walked back towards the convertible. She slid in beside her boyfriend and rested her head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.

“I was hoping I took long enough in the bathroom that I would miss the rest of this awful movie. It’s too scary for me.” She hid her eyes by burying her face against his chest. Her boyfriend stroked his fingers through her hair and laughed.

“Oh Barb, you’re a silly woman,” he said with a laugh. “I assume it’s done?” he whispered in her ear.

She looked up at him and smiled.

“He’s gone. Drained him dry. It will take them months to find the body in the ceiling.”

“Great work my love,” he said, licking his lips. “But next serial killer we stalk, I get to kill. It’s not fair you’ve done the last two. I’m getting hungry.”

The two shared a smile and settled in to watch the movie. The killer on screen continued to murder his victims in the most outlandish ways possible. Barb continued to jump and squeal at the gory scenes. They did make her uncomfortable. Watching innocent people die always struck a nerve with her. But she never felt bad for killing and eating the murderers they hunted. They were the scourge of the Earth.  

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