[Writing Prompt] You’re a 250 year old vampire. You’ve found that living as a recluse and faking your death every 70 years or so is actually fairly easy. You’ve consistently fooled everyone except for your mortal enemy – Keith from the IRS
Harry The Vampire Evades The IRS
Harry the vampire was beginning to get frustrated.
He had spent an hour already speaking with this fellow Keith from the IRS. So far he had provided death certificates, birth certificates, even fake baby pictures. He’d regaled Keith with well rehearsed, utterly fake stories about him and his loving grandfather, Jeremiah.
“Oh, how Jeremiah used to dote upon me, as if I were the most important object in the entire world. How I miss him, my dearest grand-papa!”
But Keith would just purse his lips and nod again, maybe lean in for yet another tea cookie. Harry cursed silently to himself – he would need to go out and by more tea cookies.
No matter what Harry fed Keith, no matter what proof Harry provided that, no, he was not himself Jeremiah, and no, he was not over two centuries old and attempting to defraud the IRS, Keith just wouldn’t leave. In over two centuries on Earth, and after several successful efforts to defraud the IRS, Harry worried he may have finally met his match.
“Well Harry,” Keith said, taking the final tea biscuit laid out on a small porcelain plate beneath them on the table, “it seems like everything checks out.” Keith ate the small cookie in one delicious bite and shook his head. “Golly, those are some delicious cookies. Sorry I ate em all. Oh damn, you didn’t get to have one, did you?”
Harry demurred, raising his hand in front of him, and hid his simmering anger. “Oh, no, don’t you worry about it.” Harry stood up in the hopes Keith would follow his lead and finally get the hell out. It was already midday and Harry was exhausted. The meeting had been held in the sunless interior study, but Harry was feeling every second of his missed slumber.
To Harry’s relief Keith did follow his lead and got up with him. As he stood he picked up his tea and finished the glass with a big gulp. “Well, very generous of you Harry. Thank you for your time. And my condolences for your loss.”
Harry frowned, his head swimming from standing so quickly , his blood pressure low. It wad never good to force through the day time. Vampires in general responded poorly to sleep deprivation, and Harry in particular was very sensitive. “Thank you.” Harry muttered, hoping his demeanor came off as a distracted mourner rather than…something else.
As the two men walked to the front door, through the darkened alcove of the hallway, just as Harry was about to open the door, Keith sucked his front teeth. “Harry, I’m sorry to impose, but before I leave, would it be alright if I used your bathroom?”
Harry could hardly hide his frustration – humans and their incessant waste. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Um, sure, OK – Yes,” god he was tired, “it’s uh down the hall, through the study on the left.”
Keith smiled. “Thanks Harry.” And the man walked back into the apartment.
As Harry waited he ran the whole conversation around in his head. He thought he’d been consistent, had gotten all his details right, the whole genealogical tree – the fake chain of biologic causality that went from his great grandfather, to his grandfather, to him – all of them actually Harry collecting estate income at a far lower tax burden.
Yes, Harry thought, I think I fooled him.
Keith took longer than expected to return and Harry was just beginning to worry when the man appeared in the doorway. He looked different somehow, and his smile was sort of tight lipped. “Sorry about that, I’ll be on my way.” He did not offer a handshake. “Thanks.” He said and then walked briskly out of the apartment.
Harry watched him go, a bit confused but overall just glad to have him gone. His head aching, Harry shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally he would get some rest.
His stomach growled and Harry decided first he would have a night cap. So he headed into the kitchen, massaging his temple. When he arrived he stopped dead in tracks.
In front of him Harry’s refrigerator was ajar and on the floor a bag of O negative blood was spilled in a grim pool all over the kitchen tiles.
Harry bent down, touched a finger to the liquid, and found that it was still quite cold.
Suddenly Keith’s elongated piss clicked firmly into place, as did the realization that Harry was going to have to relocate for the second time in as many months.
“Shit.”
Frustrated, Harry frowned and licked the blood off his finger. It was gonna be a long night
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