I should have known something was wrong when I awoke. Normally Jeremy is there with the newspaper and an amusing anecdote. He'll mention something odd that happened in the world at large, recount some man bites dog story that the Herald would never cover, or announce that today was Nikolai Tesla's birthday. This evening however there was no amusing witticism, no paper. No Jeremy.

It was a break in my routine. Routine is important to me. Without routines, I would be hopelessly adrift in my mind. I wouldn't know whether it was bum or breakfast time. Not that I eat breakfast or use the toilet of course. In fact, I don't think I've ever used a toilet in the sense that you understand them. I don't think it's severely inconvenienced me, just one of those little things that Jeremy should be telling me right now.

'Incidentally, Sir, are you aware that your mortal existence predates the modern flush toilet which was first produced in the 40's.' Jeremy might say, were he here. Which he wasn't. I try saying it myself, imitating his precise style. It makes me feel a little better. I remember that I should get up, but only after I have read the newspaper. But there is no newspaper, no Jeremey and I've had to tell myself my own anecdote.

I sat there for a while trying to work out what to do. I guess I could of got up and gone downstairs but in the forefront of my mind was what might happen if Jeremy came in while I was trying to find my robe and slippers. It would be awfully awkward. The phrase 'die of embarrassment' comes to mind. Not that I could die either, having already done that. It was just easier to wait for Jeremy to come in with the paper and amusingly mention why he was late like the other time when the Germans had bombed the Times and he had to get an edition of the Telegraph instead.

So I waited. I waited till eight. No Jeremy. I waited till nine. No Jeremy. I waited till ten. Still no Jeremy. I could have waited there all night, all the next day, and for all time if nothing disturbed me. Waiting patiently is something I do well. It also calms me. Rushing about can get you destroyed. Never rush.

It was sometime after ten that I heard the crash. While a little worrying I decided that Jeremy could sort it out. I resumed waiting. Then there was another crash downstairs and another. What was Jeremy doing? Why was he not here? What was going on? I was almost about to get up when I heard a set of heavy footfalls on the stairs. Finally. I waited patiently.

It was therefore a shock as the door burst open. Jeremy looked rather disheveled. His suit was torn and he was covered in grime. A large scar ran across his face, his mouth was missing several teeth and his left eye was a gory mess. What was worse was that he had no paper.

Jeremy moaned. It was a long drawn-out growl. It looked like there wasn't going to be an amusing anecdote either. He shambled towards me. This was mainly because his left leg was twisted below the knee.

"Jeremy! What is the meaning of this." I said.

In response, Jeremy merely moaned again. He also was dripping on the carpet. Horrifying!

"This is intolerable. Jeremy. Fetch the paper. And clean yourself up."

Jeremy moaned and turned around, Hopefully, he was off to get the paper. It's the only good thing about zombies. It's very easy for a vampire like me to command them.

There was more crashing downstairs. It occurred to me that concepts such as 'paper' and 'clean' may not be understandable to Jeremy in his current state. Still, he was not dripping on my bedroom carpet. It then occurred to me that he would be dripping on the hall carpet, the stairs, the foyer, and most probably every other room. It was going to take him ages to clean it up. But who was going to do that? Jeremy had inconsiderately become a zombie and I certainly wasn't going to do the cleaning. What was going to happen? I began to panic.

Much literature has been spent on how vampires are cool, calm, collected, and sexy. I like books about vampires. The authors paint us so well and recently the vampire tends not to get destroyed by the real hero anymore. Sometimes they are even the hero themselves. What is often missed out is that vampires are a little neurotic. We are set in our ways. Much like an elderly relative, we fret, we worry when things are out of place or not as we remember or our routine is disrupted. Except we're worse. Some fly into a rage, some just start twitching, others throw tantrums. Myself, I am a howler. I will cry out all my rage and frustrations in one extended ululating howl. Sometimes for hours. It completely ruins the whole super sexy and suave look when you tend to go to pieces at the least little thing. Oh well, cest le mort.

That's not to say I don't have ways to deal with this. I have a calming mantra for times like this.

"I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night. I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night. I am..." well, you get the idea. Dracula is my favourite literary vampire although I must say I liked Tom Cruise as a vampire in the moving pictures. Pretending to be Dracula calms me. I can be powerful. I can be the night.

"I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night. I am Dracula, I am in control." Still, I am worried. Why did Jeremy become a zombie? What sort of life choice is that? I wondered if I had been a bad master. What could have put him off? I was an excellent master. Why had Jeremy gone off to join the deranged shambling hordes? This worried me and so I continued.

"I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night. I am Dracula, I am in control." I continued my mantra and the Jeremy stopped crashing around downstairs. I became calmer. I remembered that in emergencies Jeremy had left me a phone number for a servant service. I got out of bed, put on my slippers, and went to find my book of phone numbers. I then went to open my bedroom door and paused. I still had not received my paper. "I am Dracula. I am in control. I am the terror of the night." Yes! I was the master here. I opened my own door and stepped out into my own hall. I crept downstairs. The place was a mess, how Jeremy would get this, no Jeremy was now a zombie. I was summoning new servants. Because I can be Dracula and own the night.

What I did not own however was a phone. You may think I am some crazy, out-of-touch, technologically impaired vampire but I am moving with the times and in tune with the latest technology. Telephones are no longer large black apparatuses anchored to a wall. They are small bakelite objects in a tasteful, yet bold colour and can rest on a table or small ledge. I recall my one being red. If only I could find it. I was searching the foyer when Jeremy came through the front door. Which was alarming. A good door is hard to replace. But bless him, he had found the paper. It was therefore a hideous shock when his head exploded.

"Jeremy! What are you doing." I cried out. Jeremy of course did nothing but leak onto the carpet. I grabbed the paper and looked around. Outside in the garden were six humans advancing on me quite forcefully. The lead one was a young woman carrying a gun, her companions had bats and axes. They walked right into my house, pushing me roughly to the side. Two humans began dragging Jeremy outside.

"This looks suitable. Alex, Majorie, Brian. Head back to the truck, get the tools, and fix the door." said the woman with the gun. She seemed to notice me for the first time and pointed her gun at me.

"You, who are you, are you still human?"

'I am Dra...', no, that would be a bad answer. "Victor Shepherd, I am the owner of this house. What are you doing? You can't just barge in here. Leave, or I will summon the authorities." I decided not to mention that I could not find the phone.

"Oh, a useless." the woman leveled the gun at me. "Well, useless. We'll be staying here for a bit. No, you don't get a say and there are no authorities anymore. Think of something you can do or we'll leave you behind when we move on."

I can turn into a wolf, do the crossword and play a mean hand of whist. None of which I figured this woman wanted to hear. I was also immensely strong, am excellent in fisticuffs and wrestling, and can command lesser creatures which includes humans. Of course, that last bit requires a clear mind on my part and I was too rattled to cow her into submission.

"I have a car and some spare tanks of gasoline," I said

"That's good. We'll be taking that too. Suhail, Mike. Find the garage. See how much there is." The other two humans walked off in the wrong direction and I corrected them, pointing the correct way. They turned about and followed my directions. The woman continued to keep her weapon pointed at me.

"Very good useless, cooperative. Now, show me your kitchen. Let's see what you've got. You first."

I lead her towards the kitchen. She opened the pantry and began taking inventory of the contents. She then checked the refrigerator. She seemed to approve of both. Well, Jeremy was an excellent and meticulous servant. He would be pleased by, no, Jeremy had been killed, been turned into a zombie, and had his head blown apart by this amazon. So maybe not.

Jeremy was gone. He had been a useful, most excellent servant who had served me for almost a century. And now he was gone. There had also been a zombie insurgency and the humans had gone feral. I trembled.

"How bad is it?" I asked the woman. She paused in her inventory.

"What did you say useless?"

"How bad is it? Out there?"

"How out of touch are you? It's over. Civilisation's totally gone. It's now every man for himself. Or in this case, every woman. Got a problem with that useless." she said and then turned back to the refrigerator.

"Everything's gone?" I said. She turned back to me and walked over.

"Yes, useless. Everything is gone. Society's finished. There are zombies everywhere. It's all over. She grabbed the paper out of my hands. This is the very last paper in the entire world. Do you understand?"

The last paper? No more? I also realised there would be no more amusing anecdotes either. That was it. The howl came on.

I let it all out. All my frustrations and anxieties. I howled. The woman collapsed to the ground, dropping the gun, and put her hands to her ears. I can be quite loud. Air raid warning loud. Being in a small room with me howling can be quite traumatic for a human. I continued to howl as she crawled for the door and left. I didn't care. I howled, releasing my rage and anger. I could hear her stumbling around outside but I didn't care. Jeremy gone, my house invaded, and no more papers. I howled.

Eventually, I subsided. I calmed down and took stock of my situation. There was a zombie insurgency, humans had invaded my home and civilisation was finished. I was also hungry. Howling will do that to you. But there were humans in my house. I could feast on them all.

"I am Dracula. I am in control. I am the terror of the night." I said, feeling confident, I strode towards the foyer looking for the humans. I did not see any. They must have run off and hidden. No matter. I paused and listened, searching for that distinctive tell-tale double thump of a human heart. One, two, three, four, five, and six. They were still all here.

I sought one of them out. I stalked through my house homing in on their heart. The others were starting to move as well, slowly coming out of shock. I was hungry and I was angry. How dare they enter my house and kill my servant. They would pay and I would feast. I then reached where they were hiding. It was one of the guest bedrooms with the door closed. I paused. Should I knock? It would be polite. I knocked. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. I knocked a third time, quite forcefully.

"Go away!" screamed the victim within. It was the other woman I figured. It did not sound like the amazon. I paused again.

"I am Dracula. I am in control. I am the terror of the night." I said. This was my house, I was the wronged party here and my victim was inside. I tried the door handle, but it was locked. I briefly considered bashing it down but decided against it. If the amazon was to be believed a decent carpenter would be hard to find now. So I dissolved and flowed into the room.

How does that work? I don't have any idea. I am a vampire. It's something I can do.

While still dissolved I took stock of the guest bedroom. This woman was backed into a corner and brandishing the chair defensively in both hands. Her heart was beating fast and furiously and she radiated fear, terror, and anger. It was so perfect. I had seen this scene in my mind so many times while reading vampire stories. I made form right in front of her and would have said something suave and terrifying if she had not tried to bash my head in. People these days have no sense of drama.

I easily caught the chair in my hand and stared at her. Her gaze caught mine and she froze, captivated. Finally, the universe had some sense of drama. I compelled her to release her grip and she obeyed. I drew her in and had her bare her neck to me. I extended my fangs and just as I was about to pierce her flesh I heard a click and felt the barrel of a gun against my skull.

"Put her down, thing. Now." It was the amazon. She had retrieved her gun, followed me, and somehow gained entry into the room behind me and crept up while I was intent on my prey. Another vampire thing, we can become over-focused on our food at times.