The Last Meal

Everything was running: my car - badly; my gas - low; and I - late, as usual. I looked like a hot mess, with my orders getting cold. But I smiled, careful not to show my too white, too long, and too old teeth.

I hadn’t fed in days. I was hungry, but it wasn’t from the smell of all that food. Tonight will be my night.

I double parked in front of the Golden Dragon, ignoring the honking flock.

I cut the line, and met, eye to ancient eye, my brethren where he waited with my Orders.

“The Special,” I said. “Extra garlic.”

He handed over the considerable order.

“My fortune cookie?” I asked, too much hunger in my voice.

“Unfortunate cookie for someone,” he mused. I had heard this joke each time before, but still we shared the too thin smile, that revealed not even mirth. He slid the unwrapped cookie into the tremble of my hand.

I crushed it in an eager fist. The brittle shell falling, untasted, upon the pavement as I stepped towards my car.

As usual, the fortune read: “Enough is as good as a feast.” I checked the mark’s address on the back.

“Weeeeoooo” I whistled through my teeth.

I raced, hellbent now, the other meals forgotten.

Gated community. Guard asleep. Lawn for days. Driveway bookended by stone lions.

The house was deliciously dark but for the light in an upstairs office.

I mounted the pillared steps. The order, purposely precarious, wavered like a tower obscuring my face from the view of the doorbell cam.

I rang. “Quick Dish” I spoke out into the night.

“You may enter” a voice said. The door buzzed open.

Too easy! I resisted the urge to laugh at the unnecessary charade of my awkwardly stacked boxes.

I had my invite. Like a shadow, I stepped across the threshold.

No coterie of guards, just a grey old man wearing a coat too heavy for the weather. I handed him the stack of waxed cardboard, still steaming from the seams. I thought only of how I would take my time tonight. Satisfaction at last!

Distracted, I accepted the tip with an open hand.

Too late I saw the silver quarters dropped into my palm.

I hissed with rage and sudden pain. The clamour of coins rang as they scattered at my feet. The humanity slid from my face like a mask; fangs bared to face the mortal who had dared to dare.

In a sudden flare, a flood of halogen lights—lumens of a thousand suns— burned my eyes and flesh. I felt, but did not see, the stake as it plunged into my heart.

A single silver coin sang in its final rest.