According to all known laws of aviation, the severed head of a vampire should not be able to fly. The vampire head flew anyways. Badly. Very badly.

The head floated through the air like a hot air balloon kept aloft by an invisible, and definitely paranormal, force. At least until the head decided to approach a lone individual wandering through streets that were not to be known of.

A sniff was all it took for the head to identify the wanderer as a fellow vampire. From their hesitant steps and the constant checking of something on smartphone, this other vampire seemed lost. And so the flying head decided to swoop in with all the finesse of a malfunctioning toy aeroplane.

- - -

Simon had had enough of biting into filthy unwashed skin just to get a quick meal. Not to mention that the neighbourhood cat lady was starting to question where the strays she fed every morning had been disappearing to.

Hunting for humans? Perish the thought! What if he made eye contact with the person? What if they asked him why he's trying to bite them? What if he messed up? No. He would definitely mess up. He always did. He'd mess up and he'd get reported.He could end up in the local paper as some bite-happy freak. What was left of his life would be ruined!

No…. No. No! This wasn't the time to go off on a tangent of anxiety. This was the time to figure out where he could get his fix of blood.

The last time Simon had visited the cafe, he had a friend to guide him. But, of course, he couldn't always rely on James to guide him around like some lost child. The guy had a social life anyways.

So here he was, lost in a maze of gray nondescript buildings at 2 am. How long had he been out here? An hour? Two hours? He was sure he had taken the same route he'd taken the last (and only) time James had taken him to the cafe.

He was looking down at the directions his friend had texted him earlier when something hit him. Physically. Right on the head. Simon let out a little yelp of pain and surprise. Rubbing the sore spot on his head, he turned around to see what had just fallen onto him.

It was an entire human head. Now resting on its side on the ground, it faced Simon with closed eyes.

“Jesus Christ!” Simon wheezed, staggering backwards away from the head. A cold sweat had formed upon his brow. He looked around with wide frantic eyes. Where did that come from? Was there anyone around to witness whatever the hell that just happened?

And then he heard a loud pained groan.

It had come from the decapitated head.

Eyelids fluttered open to reveal dark brown, almost black, eyes.

Simon froze.

The eyes blinked. And then the head stirred.

“Urghh…” The head tried to prop itself - no, herself- upright with a red glistening tendril that emerged from the gaping opening where her head once connected to her neck. She looked up to find a young man, either in his late twenties or early thirties, staring at her and looking like he was about to throw up.

He tried to step back, away from this strange and very alive decapitated woman, but his legs gave away. He landed on his rear.

“Uh...hey!” She chirped, trying to sound as alright as possible for someone who had just crash landed.

The man made a scared noise somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper. 

“Aw c’mon, dude. You’re a vampire too, right?”

“..huh? Uh...yeah..”

“Right, so-”

“What...what are you?”

The head frowned slightly at the interruption. “A vampire. Like you are.”

“Wh-what? But I thought chopping off the head...chopping it off kills vampires!”

“Oh. That? Yeah, I guess,” the reply came with an eye roll. ”Depends on the type.”

Oh. Types. James had mentioned that to him. Briefly. And only to tell the clueless new vampire that he had no idea what type of vampire he was. An awkward silence hung in the air as Simon tried to find his words.

“So...so what type of vampire are you?”

“The Separator type.”

“Uh…” Simon had no idea what a Separator type vampire was. “I..uh..I’ve never met anyone of your type…” He cringed inwardly at his own words. The fact that he was conversing with a person, and not just some dismembered body part, was starting to sink in. The knot in his gut squeezed itself tighter.

“Yeah? I’d say the same for you,” the head rose until she was directly facing the other. The man’s jaw dropped, revealing what could only be called a dental disaster. The head winced at the sight. And she thought growing her wisdom teeth was bad. “Never seen a vampire with that much teeth.”

“H-how are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

Simon gestured frantically at the space between the head and the ground.

“Oh...levitating? Separators do that.” If she had shoulders she’d be shrugging. “Y’know along with the separating thing. Anyways, what’s up with you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, what type are you? You don’t seem like a Leech type…” Having retracted her tendril back into the base of her head, she floated a small circle around him with a scrutinising gaze. “Hmmm...deeefinitely not a Separator.”

“Actually...uh...I have no idea?” He picked himself up from the ground and dusted himself off.

“Damn, you really are a newbie! Nobody showed you the ropes?”

“Uh….kinda?”Simon nervously rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Ever been to the cafe?”

“You mean Bloodclot Cafe?”

“Where else?” Like there was any other cafe for vampires. Maybe somewhere else, but not in this city.

“Well, I went there with a friend once. But I seem to have forgotten the way there…”

“Oh? Is that so?” A toothy grin cut across across the floating one’s face. “Well then! How ‘bout good ol’ Vanessa here guide you there?”

Simon squinted. Everything about this lady’s grin screamed ‘ulterior motive’. “Is..there a catch here?”

“No! Not at all!” Vanessa replied. “You will have to perform a liiiiittle favor for me though…”

“And that is..?”

“Smuggle me!”

“What?! No way! I’m not breaking the law just to-”

“Alright, maaaaybe smuggle is kinda a strong word. Trust me, it’s not as illegal as it sounded! You just gotta sneak me into the cafe.”

“What. Why? You’re...not allowed in?”

“Yeah, they banned me after I got tipsy a few times in there. Long story.”

“They serve alcohol in there?” Simon quirked an eyebrow. . Weren't they a cafe? He thought. Oh wait, cafes don't normally serve blood either.

“They don’t. It's a cafe not a bar. Now enough questions, let's go!” With that, Vanessa was floating on ahead. "We don't have all night!"

Simon sighed. He didn’t really have a choice now, did he? At least now he wasn't lost and alone out here. Now he was lost and dependent on the decapitated head of some strange lady.

But this...this was just the beginning, wasn't it?