Demarion sighed heavily as he stood and walked to stand next to them. “Nielle, I must tell you something about us.” He dropped to a knee to look her in the eye. He tossed around what to say in his mind for a moment and then decided just to spit it out. “We are vampires,” 

“Vampires?” Nielle repeated skeptically. Her eyes lowered as if she thought Demarion was pulling her leg. “Vampires? Like, sucking people’s blood and turning into bats kind of vampires?” 

“We don’t turn into bats,” 

“Seriously?” she asked.

“Seriously.” Demarion stated.

“So… you mean I have to suck people’s blood to live? And I can’t go into the sunlight because it kills vampires?” 

“Yes,”

She thought about it for a moment, her little head twisting about and her eyes looking up thoughtfully. “But that would mean I’d have to kill people,” she said after a bit. “Isn’t that bad? I don’t think I could do that… that’s pretty gross,”

Demarion opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when she began to speak again.

“And what if they are good people? I can’t just kill somebody that’s good… people would start hunting me and trying to kill me then…but if I’m a vampire I’d be super strong and I could fight them and run real fast so they couldn’t catch me,”

Demarion smiled and glanced around the room until his eyes fell on the washer and dryer in a dark corner. “Come here,”

Tanielle released LA’s hand and followed him. “We’re not really vampires are we? You’re just kidding right? I mean, I would know if I were really a vampire,” 

“Pick this up.” He nodded to the large, double-load washer. 

“Dad… you know I can’t pick that up… seriously? I’m a kid and I’m skinny!” 

The child’s resiliency amazed Demarion. Why he thought she should be grieving and crying at the loss of her mother, he didn’t know. Maybe all children were like this, or perhaps Tanielle was special, having had a life filled with loss… he didn’t know. 

“Just do it,” he said.

“Alright,” Nielle said with a deep gasp of ridiculous. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” She laughed as she bent over, placing her tiny hands beneath the lip of the washer, and then she heaved with all her strength. 

The washer slammed up into the ceiling with such force that it took out most of the tiles, which came crashing down on top of them. Demarion had to grab Tanielle and pull her back as the machine slammed back to the floor. 

“O.M.G…. I didn’t just do that,” Nielle whispered, her eyes staring in shock at the washer. “I just did that,” She turned to stare at Demarion. “Tell me I did not just do that,” 

“Do you believe me now?” he asked, a rare smile finding his handsome face.

Nielle turned back to gaze incredulously at the washer. “O.M.G… I am a vampire,” She turned back and ran to Demarion, barreling into him with a bear hug embrace. “This is great! I used to be weak and skinny, but now I’m not weak anymore!” She leaned back with a look of elation in her eyes, staring up at Demarion. “Can we go outside? I have to go outside, please daddy?” 

“Slow down,” Demarion said, taking the girl by the shoulders. “You have to remember, we can never let people know what we are,”

“Unless we’re about to eat them right? Cause if we’re about to eat them then they will definitely know we are vampires,” she rambled. “Do I have to eat people though? I saw on TV how some vampires survived by eating animals… oh no, I couldn’t eat an animal, like a kitten… they are too cute, I would never be able to eat one,” 

“Tanielle,” LA called to her, extending her hand. “Your hair? Remember?” 

Tanielle looked at LA and then lightly walked to take her hand. “Oh yeah,”

Demarion’s smile remained in place for a moment longer as the girls approached the stairs. Then, as he looked down at the corpses on the floor, his demeanor shifted. “Make it quick,” he called up to them. “We’re going to New York.”

He gave the basement a quick once-over and then disappeared up the steps. He returned a moment later with a bottle of alcohol and a book of matches. He set the corpses together and piled a bunch of laundry around and on top of them, dousing it with the alcohol. He wondered briefly, as he struck the match and tossed it onto the pile, what O.M.G. meant…