My legs are stiff as I get out of bed and open the curtains. I push the doubts away. Edwin is eccentric, that’s all. Normal people can be obsessed with Dracula. I still can’t believe I agreed to host Crystal’s wedding here, at Bran Castle, the castle that inspired the book.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” My wife seems unaffected by my concerns about Edwin. “We must keep the curtains closed! You know how vampires are.” She winks. “How’s the speech coming?”
“Fine, almost finished.” I lie. I think to the two speeches in the breast pocket of my suit. No matter how many times I rewrite the first Father of the Bride speech, my doubt seems to seeps from every sentence. The second I’d printed after a quick CTRL-F search changed George’s name to Edwin’s. It was a good speech, after all. Everyone loved it when I gave it at Crystal’s first wedding.
It is decision time. Instinctively I crumple up the first speech and drop it into a nearby garbage can. Edwin and Crystal were married now —albeit a bit of a creepy ceremony. Glancing at the clock, I decided at this moment, 7:06 on October 31, 2016, I would believe the best about my new son-in-law.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” I begin, holding a Dracula-faced goblet with its dark red liquid. I glance around at the guest’s; relief washes over me. No one seems to recognize the repurposed speech. The rest of the evening is magical, and I even relax and start to get into the whole Dracula scene. As the night is winding down, Crystal hugs me and our eyes lock; her face is radiant. She turns to walk away, and I felt my world fall out from under me. There on Crystal’s neck are two red puncture marks.
This was a flash fiction entry on Microcosms. I had 300 words, 24 hours and the prompts of Father/Transylvanian Castle/Memoir.