Bill The Vampire - 01 Read Online Free Page B

the village, so, instead, I opted for business casual. That was usually a safe way to go when in doubt, at least during company meetings. I was just winging it here. I might not look cool, but at least I wouldn't look scummy. Hopefully Sally wasn't one of those chicks who was into dating dirt bags. Speaking of which... was this really a date? Sure the word had come up, but the reality was I had no idea. Hell, I wasn't even sure I'd give her a ten-percent chance of being there, so worrying about it being a date or not seemed to be getting a little ahead of myself. Ooh, Sally and a little head. Now there's a possibility I could get behind. Anyhow...
     
    I got myself together as best as I could. Not a male model by any stretch of the imagination, but not exactly pre- Subway Jared looking, either. It'd do. I grabbed my keys and wallet ( and stuffed an emergency $20 into one of my socks... momma didn't raise no complete fool ) and headed out to meet my fate, literally, as it turns out.
     
    * * *
     
    Saturday night trains are a lot like rush hour trains. People are in a hurry to get where they're going and, for the most part, stay out of each other’s way. Even the homeless seem to mostly understand this, and the onslaught of panhandling lessens a bit during these times. After all, getting in front of a determined person headed from point A to point B is a good way to get trampled. Thus it was. I rode the N train to the closest stop to my destination.  It let me off about five short blocks away from where I was headed, which I was able to walk with no problem.
     
    In retrospect, the whole trip was a little underwhelming. If Hollywood has taught me anything, it's that fateful trips like these are filled with foreshadowing. It should have been storming outside, but it was crystal clear. I should have been accosted by at least one semi-crazed, but mysteriously wizened, stranger on the train, warning me of dire doom, but, instead, I managed to snag a seat, and nobody even batted an eye at me. For Christ sakes, the address I was given should have been some popular, but inexplicably creepy, nightclub with a non-subtle name like Type-O, or maybe The Blud Room, but noooo. Instead, the main floor of the building was a fairly nondescript bar. Loud and full, but not packed, and certainly not crawling with creeps that were practically screaming “Come in here and we'll drain your ass dry!” It figures. The world can't even deliver me clichés correctly.
     
    My instructions were to use the side door and head up to the third floor. I buzzed and was immediately let in. There was no challenge of ‘Who dares trespass?’ No hulking bouncer opened the door only to give me an evil smirk to let me know I was fresh meat. It was just a stairwell. Jeez!
     
    As I climbed, the sounds changed slightly. The techno-rock music from the first floor was fairly muted by the time I reached the second floor landing. As I continued upward, it was slowly drowned out by a different techno beat. This was SoHo, after all.
     
    Oh, by the way, in case you had forgotten from earlier... fuck SoHo!
     
    Now, where was I? Yeah, yeah, still a fucking corpse, but I'm getting back to that. I'm still doing the whole life flashing before my eyes bit... although it's odd that the majority of the flashing seems to be from the last twelve hours, but whatever.
     
    I reached the third floor, the source of the new music, and knocked... and knocked again... and knocked a third time. Didn't these guys just buzz me in? I was about to turn around and leave, visions of Sally and her friends ( hot friends no doubt... while we're on this fantasy, let's say hot nude friends ) standing there, laughing at my idiocy, going through my not-surprised-in-the-least mind, when finally the door opened.
     
    If this were a trashy romance novel, I'm sure the guy standing in the door would be described to the rapidly moistening female reader by his perfect hair, dazzling eyes, and bulging