This time, Michael Joke was dead sure he'd heard Billy Jean talk.

  Her evolution was zooming along faster than he'd ever guessed.

  Just one sip of a superpower's blood, and boom, she could chat.

  What if she got a double shot, a triple?

  He couldn't even picture how insanely powerful she might turn out.

  Unlike Michael Joke's shock, Donna was scared out of her wits.

  A vampire spouting human words?

  That was like something from a horror flick.

  Under that creepy gaze, she couldn't help but shiver and backpedal.

  "I... give... you... a... chance... but... you... don't... want... it... then... don't... blame... me..."

  That raspy, croaky voice was like a death toll, and Donna was instantly drenched in a cold sweat.

  She saw the vampire lunging and, face as white as a sheet, she bolted toward Michael Joke, shrieking,

  "Save me, for the love of God!"

  Halfway there, Donna's body locked up, and she hacked up a mouthful of blood.

  "Pffft..."

  She stared in horror at the arm stabbing through her chest from behind.

  "Save... me..."

  She reached out to Michael Joke with all her might, blood gushing from her mouth.

  "Boom..."

  She was flung like a rag-doll, leaving a bloody skid mark on the floor.

  Lying there, Donna's chest was a fountain of blood from the gaping wound, spreading underneath her.

  She gasped and writhed in pain.

  At that moment, her pupils shrank to pinpoints in terror as she got a good look at the face fully showing under the hat brim.

  It was the mug of the only student at East University who'd been the belle of the ball for four years running, the face slapped on the admission brochure.

  Donna suddenly remembered when the four of them were knee-deep in a research project.

  Some out-of-town jock had asked Michael Joke why he'd schlepped all the way to this far-flung school.

  Michael Joke had said he'd been wowed by East University's flashy brochure.

  The classmates had all cracked up, thinking he was yanking their chain.

  I mean, who picks a school based on a brochure?

  Most folks eyeball majors and profs.

  But now Donna realized Michael Joke hadn't been joking.

  He'd been smitten by the brochure because of her.

  She'd been doomed from the get-go.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  Donna's lips twisted into a bitter grin before her pupils dilated and she croaked her last.

  Billy Jean shook her hand, grossed out by the blood.

  She could tell just by the smell it was nasty.

  Michael Joke took her hand and wiped the blood off with a hanky.

  "Leave this dirty work to me next time," he said, cool as a cucumber.

  Billy Jean raised an eyebrow, flabbergasted.

  "You... not... angry..."

  Her voice was so stiff and dry, she kept going in her head.

  "Don't you know her? Aren't you steamed I offed her?"

  "I don't know her from Adam,"

  Michael Joke replied, eyes glued to her hand as he kept scrubbing.

  "Oh."

  Billy Jean's lips curled into a teensy smile.

  Billy Jean checked herself out in the mirror.

  Her look had done a 180.

  The ashen, vampire pallor had vamoosed, revealing pale skin.

  It wasn't rosy like a regular Joe's, but at least it didn't scream "scary" anymore.

  Her face, which used to be as rigid as a statue, could now show some feels, and her sunken cheeks had plumped up.

  Without eyeballing her eyes, nobody would peg her as a vampire.

  Her stiff limbs were looser too.

  Yesterday, she was like a klutz who couldn't turn a corner without ramming a pole.

  Now, she walked almost like a normal person.

  By nightfall, when vampires were on the prowl, her moves would probably be even slicker.

  Most importantly, she could gab.

  After turning vampire, her chat skills had gone kaput, and all she could do was growl.

  She couldn't remember the last time she'd opened her mouth to talk.

  The evolution of flesh and blood was downright spooky.

  Why not swing by the warehouse and chow down on the leftovers while they were still warm?

  Billy Jean was a gal of action.

  "Where you off to?" Michael Joke asked.

  "Waste not, want not. Hang tight for a sec. I'm gonna hit the warehouse and finish off the guy from before."

  "No can do," Michael Joke said.

  Billy Jean stopped in her tracks, befuddled.

  "Did you scarf it down?"

  Michael Joke:!!!

  To keep Billy Jean from spouting more gross stuff, Michael Joke fished something out of his spatial ring and chucked it to her.

  Billy Jean caught it.

  It was warm.

  A blood bag.

  "Here! The one from before."

  "You bagged it?"

  "Yeah, I snagged about a dozen. Saves you from eyeing my veins all the time."

  Billy Jean was touched.

  Oh my stars, the "backup" even stocked up for her.

  How could a boss not dig such a thoughtful "backup"?

  "I've decided. From now on, I'll sip Michael Joke's blood once a day. I can't let him feel left out by his boss."

  "!....." Michael Joke was gobsmacked.

  Was she even speaking English?

  Michael Joke yanked Brian's crystal core and plopped it next to the one from the warehouse.

  If vampires powered up on flesh and blood, humans juiced up on these crystal cores, sucking in their energy to get stronger.

  In this cutthroat apocalypse, whether you were human or vampire, if you weren't tough, you were toast.

  Clearly, Michael Joke was the top dog.

  After plucking Brian's crystal core, Michael Joke thought for a sec and whipped out a bone-cutting knife from his spatial ring.

  "Michael , whatcha doing with that blade?"

  Billy Jean asked, slurping from the blood bag.

  "Which part you fancy?"

  Michael Joke asked, dead serious.

  Billy Jean glared at him.

  "You think I'll spray blood all over you?"

  "Not your cup of tea?"

  "Like you? I'd rather chop you into bits, and then maybe I'd consider it."

  "I'm squeaky clean, smell like a rose, and I bet I'd taste great sliced up."

  Billy Jean's eyes bugged out as she stared at Michael Joke like he was the devil incarnate.

  "Are you for real?"

  "Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't,"

  Michael Joke replied, nonchalant as ever.

  Billy Jean: !

  When did Michael Joke turn into a comedian?

  "Since we're here and you need duds anyway, go hog wild and pick some out,"

  Michael Joke said.

  "I can grab as many as I want?"

  Billy Jean's eyes lit up like Christmas trees.

  "Yup."

  With Michael Joke's green light, Billy Jean went on a shopping spree in the clothing section, like a pint-sized tornado tearing through a toy store.

  With Michael Joke's spatial ring, storage was the least of her worries.

  After packing up the clothes, she happily shimmied out of her blood-splattered dress and slipped into a new one.

  Looking young and fresh, she slapped on a pair of sunglasses to hide her cloudy eyes.

  To a passerby, she looked like a regular gal out shopping, not a vampire.

  She hadn't pampered herself in ages, what with all the self-neglect and decay.

  Starting today, the beauty Jean was back in business.

  "Boom..."

  One second, Billy Jean was strutting her stuff; the next, she tripped over a scrap of clothing and ate dirt.

  "Phew."

  Billy Jean stared at the two front teeth in her palm.

  "Boohoo... Michael Joke, my teeth are MIA again."

  Billy Jean looked up at Michael Joke, her mouth a gaping hole where her front teeth used to be, and whined.

  Michael Joke tripped over his own feet, quickly grabbing something to steady himself.

  "Boohoo... Michael Joke, chop-chop and slit your wrist. I'll grow my teeth back after I guzzle."

  "Crash..."

  Something toppled over and chaos reigned.

  Billy Jean:???