Hot for Slayer

by Ali Hazelwood

This kind of shit, I mentally informed the universe, does not incentivize good deeds.

More recently, a few small raccoons seemed to have acquired me. They’d climb up the fire escape and stare into my window until I provided them with food, hiss at me while they consumed the fruits of my labor, and then unceremoniously scurry away, no doubt to some other idiot who’d also purchased a bodega rotisserie chicken just for the occasion.

Still, this was obviously a baby vampire. A male of just a few hundred years. Fighting him off took very little effort. I left him unconscious under the Obelisk and thought, Fuck this. I’m not dealing with the mood swings of an adolescent. I’m moving.