What is that Sound in the Barn?

Henry heard something in the barn again. He whipped the covers off of him and stormed to his window, pissed that this was the third night in a row waking at 3am. Stupid horses, Henry grumbled to himself before ripping the curtains open, nearly causing the flimsy rod to fall. Darkness. Henry squinted but there was nothing there, for the third night in a row. Grabbing his hoodie from his desk chair, Henry made his way down the two flights of warped, creaky stairs and grabbed the keys from the hook by the back door. He doubled back when his foot barely passed the threshold and snatched up his dad’s dented Louisville slugger. Using the weak flashlight from his phone while having the bat nested on his shoulder, Henry scanned the darkness, cursing himself for not changing the bulb yesterday like he promised. The sticky air made Henry’s sweaty fingers fumble with the lock on the door before he headed to the barn.

The sounds stopped abruptly as soon as Henry reached the door. He felt the little hairs along his spine tingle. Clumsily inserting the key into the worn lock was a challenge proven too great by his grogginess and waning adrenaline, he put his phone in his sweater. Henry flung the barn door open as soon as it was unlocked. A couple horses stirred at the commotion he caused, but even in the pitch black, he could tell there was nothing there.

“Are you alright?” Henry sweetly asked as he sat the baseball bat by the door. The grey and white mare closest to him flicked her head into his open hand while he shined the phone light around.

“Okay, if y’all are alright, quiet down. I know you miss James, but he’ll be back next week.” Henry took one more sleepy glance before making his way to the door. Just before his hand grasped the bat’s tape, a metallic crash caused Henry to simultaneously spin and stumble into the door frame. Whatever curse words or cries for help he could think of were stuck in his throat as he scrambled to his feet.

“Who’s there?” The loud but clearly shaken tone in his voice met the silence while he waited for the robber or quite possibly serial killer to emerge. The bat next to him fell, causing a second clang and heart attack. The horses began to make noise again, pacing in their enclosures.

“Hello?” Henry scooped up the bat and raised it above his head, taking two...three...four steps forward, the phone in his hand long gone into the darkness and hay. Eyes barely adjusted, Henry saw what seemed, no was something moving in the dark directly in front of him and definitely not one of the horses whose high walls prevented them from freely prancing about. The blood rushing in Henry’s ears prevented him from hearing the quick footsteps of the suspected serial killer who appeared to have teleported in the ten foot distance between them.

A second passed before Henry fully realized someone was indeed in front of him. Instinctively, he swung the bat, but the killer must have ducked right before Henry’s weapon of choice collided with a very secure and very thick wood support beam. The fear based adrenaline minimized the pain from the vibrations and Henry threw the bat out in front of him before turning and sprinting to the barn door.

“Wait!” Henry heard behind him. Hell no, he said to himself and only then realized both his phone and keys were back in the abyss. The back door to the house was locked, a precautionary measure so no one snuck into the house while he was outside, yet now it seemed like the dumbest idea in the world. Leaning against the peeling white door, Henry stared at the dark figure approaching him. Tall, dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes. Neighbors too far away to hear a scream and no point in running, Henry was never athletic like that.

“Hey!” the dark figure yelled. Henry paid no attention while he picked up the concrete block leaning against the house and lifted it over his head. Just before he could smash the back window in, the block got considerably lighter. Or, to Henry’s misfortune, was now in the hands of a strange man splattered in something red that also dripped from his dark hair. Henry spun around and was face to face with his inevitable end. Would like to say it was good, but he didn’t want to lie.

“I’m not gonna hurt you” the man pleaded “please stop running!”

“Who the hell are you and what do you want and why were you in my barn?” Henry pressed his back against the door and stared, wide-eyed into the dark irises of the stranger.

“Oh, um, well, actually that’s a funny story you see.” The creeper stumbled over his words. “I actually was, um, before I was in the barn, I, um, saw the house. Then I ya know saw the barn, my name is Charlemagne by the way, you can call me Charles.”

Henry, with unprocessed thoughts zooming through his noggin, turned and grabbed another cement block and aimed for the side window.

“Hey, stop!” Charlemagne grabbed the block again and tossed it like it was tennis ball to the side. “I said I’m not gonna hurt you, that was a misunderstanding, back there, in the barn.”

“Oh, okay, so you aren’t covered in what seems to be blood at 3 am on private property. And you weren’t hiding from me in me either, right?” Henry leaned back further, heart still racing.

“Right?” Charlemagne’s face twisted into what Henry thought was anticipation for reassurance.

“No! What the hell are you doing in my yard!” Henry’s knuckles turned white from the tension of his curled fingers.

“Well, okay, so long story short, I was drinking. Blood. From the horse. Because I’m a vampire?” Again the strange man braced himself for more yelling, but by the time he realized it, Henry was already mid faint, nearly tumbling off the back porch steps.