Vampire

The candle failed before the step did. A vampire stood on the stair, pale, fanged, the cloak holding what little dark the hall had left. No one asked the name. The bargain was already in the air, old as the house. People left that stair carrying a vampire gift that did not like lamps. It returns in vampire playing cards dealt by a hand that will not show the face, in a vampire notebook opened after the house is quiet, in a vampire postcard that arrives with the seal unbroken and the room colder. The stair goes empty. The hush stays.