The white gloves slipped on like a second skin. The paisley ascot looped around the neck and formed a classic knot as the bidding of its master. The black formal jacket fit perfectly, the sleeve length just right. A white scarf added to the look of a man needed to be seen to be believed.
He stepped in front of the full-length mirror. Putting on his black-rimmed glasses, he turned from side to side, studying all aspects of his appearance. Noticing a slight stain on his bandages, he started to remove the gauze, looping down, stopping at the base of his forehead. Removing the spectacles, he continued unwrapping.
He stopped at the shirt collar, rolled up the cloth, set it on the night table, and checked the mirror once more. A well-dressed man from the neck down, but his face replaced by a bureau in the background.
“It’s not easy being the Invisible Man,” he whispered. “And part vampire, to boot. I hope they have something decent to bite into at this shindig.”
He found new sterile wrapping and reapplied it. “That’s better. Now onto my nephew’s Halloween party.
---
The blood-red coupe pulled in front of the apartment building. He handed the keys, and a twenty to the attendant. “Find it a safe spot. No scratches, graffiti, or even fingerprints.”
The man drove away in Vlad’s Impala.
He walked up the marble steps as “Werewolf of London” blared from speakers. Checking the wig, he hummed along. “And his hair was perfect.”
---
“Uncle Vladimir, I’m so glad you could come. This is Mina, my fiancé. Mina, this is my Uncle Vladimir, he just flew in from Cleveland.”
“And, boy, are my arms tired.” Vlad said, channeling his best Groucho Marx.
“Miss Mina, you’re dressed as the bride of Frankenstein,” Vlad continued. “White dress, beehive hairdo, and, if I can say so, a creamy white neck.” He took Mina’s hand and salivated slightly, the gauze absorbing the moisture. “So glad to see you, my dear. My nephew, Johnathan, has good taste.”
Johnathan smiled at his fiancé. “My Uncle Vlad is quite the charmer.”
“And Johnathan, dressed as The Monster. Very authentic. You even got the bolts right.”
Mina took a step back to view Vlad’s costume. “And you’re dressed as the Invisible Man, bandages, fine clothes. Where did you find an outfit so quick?”
“One is quick on one’s feet in my line of work. Besides, clothes make the man.”
A waiter stopped, holding a tray of whites, reds, and zinfandels. Vlad waved him off. “I never drink…wine.” He smiled. That line always slayed him.
Mina, mesmerized by his penetrating eyes, excused herself and walked to the patio. She leaned on the marble railing and admired the full moon. Johnathan left to check on the hors devours.
Vlad walked out into the evening air, found a secluded corner, and removed all clothing. He transformed into an invisible bat and flittered over to Mina. She felt the warm breeze and a sharp sensation on her exposed skin.
She swatted her neck, her palm hitting the bullseye. “Darn mosquitos.”
Vlad, stunned by the assault, fell off the patio, onto his Impala, bouncing twice and leaving deep scratches as he skidded to the curb.
He held his head as he looked over the sports car. “Man. The rental company’s going to bleed me dry.”
He flew to a nearby black Spyder, keys in the ignition. Transforming back to human shape, he slid inside, started the engine, and turned on the heated leather seats to warm his exposed glutinous.
“Cleveland, here I come.” He found Lynyrd Skynyrd on Bluetooth, hummed along to Call Me the Breeze, and drove off in the moonlight.
---
He stepped in front of the full-length mirror. Putting on his black-rimmed glasses, he turned from side to side, studying all aspects of his appearance. Noticing a slight stain on his bandages, he started to remove the gauze, looping down, stopping at the base of his forehead. Removing the spectacles, he continued unwrapping.
He stopped at the shirt collar, rolled up the cloth, set it on the night table, and checked the mirror once more. A well-dressed man from the neck down, but his face replaced by a bureau in the background.
“It’s not easy being the Invisible Man,” he whispered. “And part vampire, to boot. I hope they have something decent to bite into at this shindig.”
He found new sterile wrapping and reapplied it. “That’s better. Now onto my nephew’s Halloween party.
---
The blood-red coupe pulled in front of the apartment building. He handed the keys, and a twenty to the attendant. “Find it a safe spot. No scratches, graffiti, or even fingerprints.”
The man drove away in Vlad’s Impala.
He walked up the marble steps as “Werewolf of London” blared from speakers. Checking the wig, he hummed along. “And his hair was perfect.”
---
“Uncle Vladimir, I’m so glad you could come. This is Mina, my fiancé. Mina, this is my Uncle Vladimir, he just flew in from Cleveland.”
“And, boy, are my arms tired.” Vlad said, channeling his best Groucho Marx.
“Miss Mina, you’re dressed as the bride of Frankenstein,” Vlad continued. “White dress, beehive hairdo, and, if I can say so, a creamy white neck.” He took Mina’s hand and salivated slightly, the gauze absorbing the moisture. “So glad to see you, my dear. My nephew, Johnathan, has good taste.”
Johnathan smiled at his fiancé. “My Uncle Vlad is quite the charmer.”
“And Johnathan, dressed as The Monster. Very authentic. You even got the bolts right.”
Mina took a step back to view Vlad’s costume. “And you’re dressed as the Invisible Man, bandages, fine clothes. Where did you find an outfit so quick?”
“One is quick on one’s feet in my line of work. Besides, clothes make the man.”
A waiter stopped, holding a tray of whites, reds, and zinfandels. Vlad waved him off. “I never drink…wine.” He smiled. That line always slayed him.
Mina, mesmerized by his penetrating eyes, excused herself and walked to the patio. She leaned on the marble railing and admired the full moon. Johnathan left to check on the hors devours.
Vlad walked out into the evening air, found a secluded corner, and removed all clothing. He transformed into an invisible bat and flittered over to Mina. She felt the warm breeze and a sharp sensation on her exposed skin.
She swatted her neck, her palm hitting the bullseye. “Darn mosquitos.”
Vlad, stunned by the assault, fell off the patio, onto his Impala, bouncing twice and leaving deep scratches as he skidded to the curb.
He held his head as he looked over the sports car. “Man. The rental company’s going to bleed me dry.”
He flew to a nearby black Spyder, keys in the ignition. Transforming back to human shape, he slid inside, started the engine, and turned on the heated leather seats to warm his exposed glutinous.
“Cleveland, here I come.” He found Lynyrd Skynyrd on Bluetooth, hummed along to Call Me the Breeze, and drove off in the moonlight.
---