Sunny Stance

The warmest day of the year was shining upon us, all three of us giggling impetuously in the safe shadows of that building. It was one of our favorite games, daring each other to step out into that blinding daylight and stand for as long as we could endure. "Go on, get your pale ass out there," she wickedly taunted me, joined by the third, fat member of our group.

Inundated by their callous cheers and provocations, in time I finally worked up the gumption to dash out of our shadowy refuge and immerse myself into those incendiary rays. Ever since the three of us were turned into vampires, our nocturnal proclivities have transformed days into a exhilarating pastime for us. The challenge was to stand out in the sun longer than the other two, my two comrades howling in adulation as I wavered and baked for an excruciating total of nine seconds. Blisters were already beginning to pop and sputter their gelatinous liquid all through my wheezing sores and down my clothes, legs snapping to thrust me back into the building's protective shadow. "Beat that," I was bombastic in the manner I challenged the woman of our party.

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She dismissed the length of my feat with a haughty, "No problem," gracefully leaping into the sunlit embrace of noon. She wobbled and cooked for an incredible eleven seconds, before she had to crawl her way back to us, shivering and hissing from her visible scalding. "Eleven seconds, eh? Got to be a record not soon to be overthrown," she cackled complacently.

The third member of our party snarled at her confidence and accepted the dare, waddling straight to the middle of the street and stomping into place. He threw his head back and bathed his effervescent face in the scorching sun, only twitching slightly in response to the incineration overtaking his stature. In amazement we both counted every grueling moment, seconds going up to the twenties! "Get back over here!" we started crying out to him, but he refused to budge, determined to surpass any other daredevil vampire before him. Surpassed them, he certainly did, all the way up to the point of bursting into flames. He screamed horrifically beneath the rapidity of that smelly combustion.

Flames soothed into the reduction of a gentle smolder, little else of our comrade left behind aside from his copious ashes and a few residual intestines that somehow clung to the pavement without also decomposing. She and I frowned at the aftermath of our game, disillusioned by his remains. "Does that mean he wins?" I mused, taking into account that he did technically stand out in the sun longer than either of us.

"New challenge," she announced, leading me to a bar. Rejected any alcohol in favor of pouring holy water into our respective shot glasses. "Bet you I can down more shots than you," she beamed at me, fangs protruding along her wide grin.

I accepted the shot glass and chuckled, "Oh, you're on!" and downed that first toxic mouthful of holy water.