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  The man squeezed his hands hard enough to make the knuckles crack. “My claim is valid! Why aren’t you people paying me?”

  Cheryl sighed. This was the part of the job she didn’t like, denying people their claims. “Well Mr. Merrill, as my associate informed your brother, it is the official opinion of Fundamental Insurance that you are not dead per se. You see…”

  She was rudely interrupted. “I’ve been turned into a god damn vampire! I’m dead! Look, I have a death certificate and everything! Check my heartbeat! Nothing!”

  She nodded sympathetically. “Technically, the term for the condition you are describing is ‘The Living Dead’ or ‘The Undead.’ You took out a policy with Fundamental Insurance, insuring that, upon your death, your beneficiary, one,” she checked her file, “Darius? You got to be kidding me,” she said under her breath, “Darius Merrill, would receive the sum of five hundred thousand dollars. Fundamental’s position is that since you have not fully experienced your death as of the time of your claim, or indeed since that time, the terms of your policy have not been met, and, therefore, Fundamental Insurance shall not pay out any claim against this policy.”

  “No! No! No! The government says I’m dead! They’re already trying to tax my estate. If I don’t’ get the money, they’re going to auction my house off.”

  “You could challenge that. I read an interesting article about a terminally ill patient in Mississippi. His wife took him to a voodoo priestess and transformed him into a zombie. Last I heard, there are appeals pending, but it gives you a leg to stand on.”

  “This is insane! This is how your company treats me! I’ve never once missed a payment…”

  Cheryl’s brow furrowed as she checked her file. “Technically, sir, you missed last month’s payment. You’ll likely be receiving a warning letter in the mail soon.”

  Mr. Merrill grew more frustrated. “I was just killed last month! Oh my god! You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re sending me a bill!?!”

  Cheryl remained cool. “Sir, legal and billing are two separate divisions here at Fundamental. You always have the option to terminate your policy if you are unhappy with Fundemental’s billing practices.”

  “Why in the world would I continue paying for a shitty policy that you have no intention of honoring? Fine, I’ll see your asses in court!”

  Drumming her fingers on the oak desk, she did her best to mollify him. “Mr. Merrill, that avenue is certainly open to you. However, you’ll want to think long and hard about it. First, you’ll have a jury of people deciding your fate – fully living people, Mr. Merrill. You’ll probably have to testify in front of them, which means a special evening session and they’re likely not to be very pleased at missing time with their families. After you explain your story to the jury, I will get to ask any relevant question I wish. The jury will know exactly what you are now, and where you get your food.”

  She paused for effect before continuing, “Mr. or Mrs. John Q. Public has a tough time coming to grips with people with your condition. I’m sure you’ll have a very compelling story about how your transformation came about. Wait! Hear me out. The jurors will see you sitting there, a bit pale, but overall not too out of sorts. We’ll bring in expert testimony and other vampires. They’ll be informed about your superhuman strength, ability to turn into bat or wolf, and near immortality. After they hear all that, how favorable of a judgment do you think you’re going to get from a bunch of people who couldn’t get out of jury duty?”

  He slouched in the leather chair and looked dejected. “So, you’re saying I’m screwed.”

  She tried a reassuring tone, “Nothing of the sort! I’m advising you that I will vigorously defend my client’s position. You could win, but this will drag on for a rather long time and the government will move against your estate in the interim. You can forestall that with the ‘not being dead defense’, but that would severely undercut your legal position against my clients.”

  The man in front of her looked out the window for a moment, making her wonder if he would capitulate. Finally, he turned back to her. “Cheryl was it? I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure there’s a reasonable resolution to this problem.”

  Cheryl stared into his large brown eyes. The pools of chocolate were pulling at her, generating a pleasant sensation. She giggled slightly, “Of course, Mr. Merrill. I’m more than willing… I mean my clients are more than willing to work towards an amicable solution.”

  His eyes seemed to grow even larger and Cheryl felt the need to arch her back slightly. Was it just her imagination or was something a bit off with the thermostat? She felt very giddy. She partly hoped that Mr. Merrill wasn’t seeing all this, but another part wanted him to notice her.

  “Now Cheryl, am I understanding that you pretty much have Fundamental’s ear on this? Whatever you recommend is what they’ll probably go with?”

  She leaned forward twirling a strand of hair with one of her fingers and hoped that he enjoyed the view down her blouse. “Yes Mas… I mean Mr. Merrill, you are correct.”

  He gave her a delightful smile. “I don’t want to argue with an attractive young lady like you. We should be talking about more interesting things, shouldn’t we?”

  She giggled again, which was entirely out of character for her. It was a far cry from the hard nosed ferocity that propelled her through law school. Her giggle was more like the tittering of some vapid blonde from the secretary pool. It was rather embarrassing. After drifting for a moment, she responded in a rush, “I agree. What would you like to talk about?”

  He laughed at the sudden sultry gravel in her voice. “Well, we have all night. Why don’t you just recommend that your clients go ahead and pay my claim and then we can go somewhere nice and talk as much as you want?”

  “That sounds wonderful, but then everyone would make fun of me.”

  He looked confused. “Why would they make fun of a striking young woman like you?”

  “Because they wouldn’t let me forget that you got me with one of the lamest hypnosis attempts ever.” Cheryl smirked sitting back up and turning off the ‘awestruck little girl’ routine.

  Mr. Merrill was in obvious shock at her sudden turnaround. “What?”

  “Oh come off it! You don’t seriously think I’d fall for that one do you? That might work on some weak-minded idiot, but I’m a professional, sir. While the video camera wouldn’t have caught your image doing that, I assure you that the audio track captures your voice just fine. You can add that to the things that we’ll bring into court with us.”

  Judging by the rage on the man’s face, obviously, she had pushed him just a bit too far. He leapt into the air like a volleyball player and swatted the camera, ripping the plaster out of the wall and smashing the damaged equipment across the room. Landing, he spun towards her, his eyes glowing red. His fangs and claws were fully extended. Mr. Merrill's hand swept the phone off her desk.

  “I’m tired of listening to you! Maybe, I’ll show you what I can really do? Do you want to know what it’s like? Well, I’ll show you!” He leapt at her, vicious and intent on killing her! Security would never arrive in time.

  Lightning fast, Cheryl caught him by his throat and held him in midair effortlessly. “Now that wasn’t very nice Mr. Merrill. Apparently, you need a bit of an education.” She dragged him over to the framed university diploma on the wall.

  “What’s this?”

  The vampire struggling in her vice-like grip gurgled something marginally intelligible.

  “Correct! It’s my law degree from Stanford. Now look at the date! That’s right, it says 1958! I’m not just a bloodsucker in the figurative sense. Of course that was after spending the better part of forty years as a nurse! I look pretty good for an old broad pushing one hundred and fifteen, don’t I?”

  Cheryl let her fangs grow and pushed him up against the wall. She used her free hand to scoop up a worn wooden stake concealed amongst her law books. “God! You’re so new that you still smell li
ke them. I think I have a solution. I’ll dust you right now and your brother, Darius, can collect your policy! Maybe, I’ll deliver the check myself and use my own little charms on him and make him sign it over to me? How’s that sound? Think Darius would enjoy that?”

  His eyes were watering and he desperately made noises that sounded like pleas for mercy. Cheryl let it go on for a minute before she dumped him, unceremoniously, on the floor. “Listen up, little baby vampire. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to drop your claim against my clients and drag your sorry ass out of my office. You’re going to find yourself a guild and beg them to let you join. If you’re lucky, they’ll hook you up with a nice juicy government contract or someone in the private sector that needs a strong, but not terribly bright, idiot like you. In return for a cut, they’ll get the government off your back, and if you ever cross my path again I will show you a whole new dimension of pain! Do you understand me?”

  Mr. Merrill crab walked backwards from her immortal fury and scurried out the office, running right into the janitor coming out of the elevator. Cheryl walked out of the office and helped the young twenty something man to his feet.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes Ma’am. Who was that?”

  “Just another person trying to pull one over on Fundamental Insurance. I showed him the error of his ways.”

  “Well, it looks like you did more than that! You must have put the fear of God into him.”

  She smiled. “No, I’m a lawyer. I put the fear of me into him. You’re new aren’t you?”

  “Yes Ma’am. My name’s Dylan. The temp agency said there’d be someone to show me around?”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Dylan. Call me Cheryl. Normally my assistant would show you around, but I can handle it tonight. I’ll show you the janitor’s closet and there’s a bit of a mess in my office that needs cleaning up.”

  Cheryl saw him shamelessly eyeing her left hand looking for a wedding ring and her smile grew bigger. It was nice to know after all these years that she still had “it.” Maybe she wouldn’t have to go out for dinner tonight, but it was getting more difficult to keep a decent janitor.

  Beckoning him to follow, she put an extra sway in her hips. “Come along dear, the sooner we get you situated, the sooner I can grab a bite to eat.”

  Cookie?

  by Jim Bernheimer

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, is your mommy there?”

  “Who is this?” Beth asked.

  “I’m an old friend of Zak and Gwen’s. Could I speak with her, sweetie?”

  “Mommy, it’s a friend for you,” Beth ran into the bedroom holding the phone out with a smile on her face.

  Beth’s mommy looked slightly cross before taking the phone. “Hello? Who is this? Oh dear god! Don’t you people ever give up? Lying to a six year old! We’ve already filed for bankruptcy, so take your collections notices and shove them up your ...” Mommy stopped and looked down. “Honey, why don’t you go play in the other room?”

  “Can Anne and I bake cookies? I’ll make you one.”

  She cupped the phone covering the speaker. “What did I say about Anne?”

  Beth muttered, “That she doesn’t exist.”

  “That’s right. Now you can put on a DVD and use your toy oven.”

  Beth felt bad walking out of the bedroom of the trailer, as Mommy started using her “outside voice” with the man on the phone. He wasn’t a friend of her mommy. He was just like the bad man that fired Daddy, the ones that took Mommy and Daddy’s cars, and the mean woman who told them they had to move from their home and into this trailer.

  Starting the movie, she looked at the battered “Quick-E Bake” oven. Mommy bought it at the store that Daddy used to say only “poor” people shopped at. She spoke softly, “Anne? Anne? Are you there? I know you’re probably mad, but she doesn’t mean it. Let’s make her one of your special cookies!”

  Seconds later, Beth smiled and got out the mixing bowl. “You’re right Anne, it’ll make everything better.”

  #

  Zak opened the door to the trailer. He used to mock Dusty for being a ‘trailer park slumlord.’ Now, they were sponging off him! “I’m home!”

  No dinner? I know she’s been upset lately, but I’m doing the best I can!

  Beth ran over to give him a hug. Well, that was worth coming home for. “Hey squirt, where’s your mom?”

  “Daddy look, Anne and I made you a cookie!”

  Zak knew Gwen worried about the whole invisible friend thing, but Beth was only six! He took the cookie off the plate. “Thanks, kiddo.”

  A jolt traversed his body on the first bite. It wasn’t just good, it was great – the best thing ever! He licked his fingers clean.

  “That was ... fantastic!” As the wonderful taste disappeared, Zak felt empty inside. A craving started – one far worse than when he quit smoking. He needed more!

  “Do you want another one?” Beth asked.

  Zak shook his head stupidly.

  “Go and see Mommy. If you do what she says, I’ll make a whole dozen for both of you!” She pointed at the bedroom.

  In the room, he found Gwen on the bed, naked and shaking.

  “Beth said if we make her a baby sister, she’ll bake us a dozen.” Her tone was desperate. “I want them!”

  “We can’t afford another kid!” Zak protested, but he was already ripping his shirt off.

  #

  Beth turned up her movie. Making baby sisters must involve lots of noise.

  She whispered to the empty air, “They won’t yell anymore. We’re going to be happy again, just like you promised. I think they’re making you right now. Even though you’re older, I’m gonna be the bestest big sister ever! We’ll bake lots of cookies together. That banker lady’s gonna give our house back, the mean men won’t call anymore, Daddy can have his job again, and everyone will stop saying I’m poor.”

  Carefully mixing the ingredients, she giggled and touched the oven while repeating the funny words Anne taught her.

  Soon, Beth had thirteen globs of dough – a baker’s dozen. The first four went into the oven. “The extra one? I bet when Tina gets a cookie, she’ll be my best friend again.”

  Beth paused listening, “The chief of police? Why? Oh okay, I’ll make him some, but only if he lets me play with the siren. Don’t be silly, Anne. Even if I gave everyone in the world one, they wouldn’t make me a princess, would they?”

  Adventurers Beware!

  by Jim Bernheimer

  “Where do you think Sir Byron and his companions are?” Tom, the stable boy asked.

  Duncan sighed, once again contemplating retiring as Captain of the Guard. Not only were there adventurers in the valley, wreaking havoc wherever they went, but the eager gleam in the boy’s eyes indicated a decidedly unhealthy interest in those idiots.

  Duncan shook his head at the naïve lad. “Trust me, Tom. You don’t want to be an adventurer. They’re nothing but trouble.”

  #

  The smell of brimstone and charred dragon feces wafted through the air. It was a pungent but magnificent aroma. Sir Byron of Copperdale, Knight of the Realm and proud wielder of the mighty broadsword Avenger, held his blade high in victory as he saluted his fellow companions. They were a stalwart band of adventurers who, yet again, had bested a foul creature.

  Rognar, the fearsome barbarian chieftain from the savage north, worked diligently using a dagger as a chisel and a rock as a hammer to remove the dead dragon’s teeth. Sir Byron scratched his neatly trimmed beard at the thought of yet another of Rognar’s savage totems driving fear into the hearts of their enemies, as he wondered whether the town’s blacksmith was up to the task of repairing his damaged armor.

  Dirth Nimblefingers, tiny and shabbily dressed as always, danced with glee amongst the piles of gold, crowing that he would never have to pick another pocket again … unless, of course, he wanted to. Sir Byron tolerated Dirth’s thieving ways because he understood th
at those were the customs of the small hill folk from whence his associate came. It was important for a knight of his station to honor other people’s traditions.

  Coins of various metals clinked off his armored boots as he trod through the pile of wealth and around the massive carcass looking for the fourth member of the company. Anise the Silent stood uncaring of the monetary treasure surrounding her as she wove intricate patterns with her wand. She carefully assessed an overly large pair of worn leather boots. Straining his ears, he could barely hear her chanting in her native Elfin tongue.

  She spoke to him with her delightful accent. “I sense an unusual aura about these items. We should take these with us to the Great Library at Shieldhome to discern the arcane magics which permeate these relics.”