“What are you doing in our court at this time in the morning?” The person shouts. In any other situation, Alek would have been frightened out of his converse. But to him, these two guys looked like they didn't care if he was there or not. Only putting on a facade for each other to look tough. He has lived too long to be fooled. Alek stands still as he waits for them to come a bit closer just so they didn't wake the whole neighborhood up. They look intimidating, all right. They were a tower over his five-foot-five build. Their dark upper bodies shone through their muscle shirts showed that they played basketball every day like this. Probably warding off anyone who came onto their court during ‘their time’. Alek usually came out to play much later in the day as he was winding down. He is not surprised about the two's sudden appearance.

“Mind if I play with you two this morning?” He asks when they are about ten feet away. They smile. Not so much a menacing smile, rather, a welcoming one.

“Yeah, sure dude! It’s gonna be uneven and all but we’ll sub I guess.” Says the shorter one with the ball. “My name is Jordan. This is Wendle.” he points to his tall friend with a thumb. Alek thinks that the name Wendle should be left in the fifties, and never be revisited. But yet here we are.

“Wendle? Neat name.” Alek says, shaking hands with them. Wendle stares at him hard. As if deciding which part of him he should grind up first. Alek gulps. “My name is Alek.”

“Well. what are we standing around here for! Let’s play!” Jordan bounds into action with his own ball. Causing Alek to jump from his skin. If he enjoyed Adrenaline-rich blood, he would be practically drooling by now. Wendle on the other hand…

“Snap out of it, Alek! You missed Wendle's pass!” Jordan shouts, running to grab the rolling ball. Alek had been thinking where to place the smell. He hasn't smelled something like it before. What could it be? Alek runs over to help Jordan retrieve the ball that was steadily rolling down off of the wooded hill, soon to be on the highway at the end. Jordan stops at the near cliff drop. He shouts and throws a small fit, jumping and cursing everything above and below.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can use my ball. You can just get another afterward.” Alek empathizes. Wendle had begun to walk over towards them, not changing in his stoicism. The smell gets greater. ‘It’s not pleasant. But it’s not pungent enough to be a body odor or deodorant.’ he thinks. Although he can smell the sweat easily through the stench, it was not it.

“No, man! That ball was signed by Lebron James, Lebron fucking James man!” Jordan shakes Aleks shoulders, sweat pouring down his body. He pulls in Alek close, “It wasn't even mine! It was Wendles!”.

Alek backs up, finally finding the source of the smell. Terror strikes his insides. After a few moments, Wendle eyes up Alek like he was the scummiest scum of the earth. Meanwhile, Jordan was in the midst of his temper tantrum. Almost falling off of the cliff when the distinct POP of the ball being run over can be heard.

“You two are vampire hunters, right?” Alek asks, trying to be inconspicuous overtop his horror. He shifts awkwardly between his feet, looking between the two. Although he knows he can just as easily take them both down at once. Jordan fades out of his sadness to direct his attention to the question at hand, looking busted. Wendle, on the other hand, was just staring at Alek. Just like before. If Alek could biologically sweat, he would be doing so.

“How’d ya know?’ Jordan draws, slowly taking a step to Alek. Wendle follows suit.

‘Come on Alek! You dumbass!’ He thinks to himself. “Oh! Well, you know, um..” he stutters. The two were still approaching, making him take two steps back for their every forward. Alek had come into contact with only one other pair in the late seventies. And they were not happy, nonetheless. The smell had been identified when Wendle had unknowingly left his Vampire Spray (™) uncapped somewhere in his pant pockets. It was the bear spray equivalent. “You just have that vibe, you know?” He says before sprint-flying out of the park. But not before hearing something along the lines of,

“We found him!”

Alek, now in a full flit out of the park, makes a bee-line to the nearest open shop he can find that he could hide in. A small plaza is the first to be targeted in his view. Without thinking, he drops to a sprint and runs into the department store; Macy's. He stops abruptly, his momentum almost taking him right into the child's clothes rack. He yelps and falls flat on his bum.

“Hey! Alek?” In a panic from the familiar voice. Aleks's head snaps to the sound. Alek had lost his hat on the way, and his hair was not exactly in the perfect messed way he had left it this morning. To him, his hat was an absolutely necessary accessory. Not to mention, he was sitting on the ground.

It was Chris - his roommate. He was dressed in the entire Macy’s attire. Alek was taken aback by the fact he didn't know he worked here.

Not wanting to be seen as a complete wreck, (more than he usually was), he stood up. Dusted himself off, and walked across the store to the back. He was panting heavily and anyone would know that he was running for dear life, so Chris left him alone. Chris stared at Alek the entire time he stumbled out of the building. Alek was tired and hungry. He just was not up for any more encounters.

Convinced he had lost the hunters, Alek walks outside. All the while ruffling his hair back to its original fluffed messiness. Now, just where was his hat? It started to rain harder and it was getting difficult to see past ten feet. Alek was defeated. He had started the day with little hope, and he was moving on with it...even at 10 am. He started retracing his steps - or of what he can remember.

Eventually, he found his hat. Which was drenched off the side of a road, almost falling into a gutter. And there was no way he would have gone down into it to retrieve. Absolutely done with the day, and his life, he did the strenuous walk of shame back to the café.

As if bringing doomsday down onto only the small café, everyone quieted down the moment Alek stepped a squelching foot into the room. Alek was tired. He just wanted to relax. Even if he had just had an argument with the owner just a few short hours ago. He slinks into the booth farthest from the windows and breakfast table. Most patrons resume their talking and eating. Whilst listening to the dull rumble and thrum of the rain and speech, Alek falls asleep after his long morning.