Jake Landrum was like any other 47 year old, red blooded, American guy. He married his high school sweetheart after graduating and joined the Army. During his almost 20 years, he got to travel the world. He served in three combat tours, but his last one broke him mentally.
It was Iraq in 2004. Everything seemed to be going well for his unit, that is, until he received word that his wife and two children had been killed. They had been targeted by terrorists, and the police never caught the killers. Jake flew home on emergency leave to bury his family, but he returned with a heart full of vengeance.
He guided his unit on a personal manhunt. His soldiers trusted him and respected him. They were all too willing to hunt down the terrorists that killed Jake's family. And one day, they found them.
The ensuing firefight was brief. Jake's team only suffered one injury and no casualties, but they had killed 24 insurgents in the fight. Word of Jake's vendetta made it back to his chain of command and they made him stand trial for what he did. He didn't hide from it. He told the investigators everything. Maybe that is why they showed him leniency. He wasn't sure.
By the end of the court martial, they forced Jake to retire. Of course, anyone that looked at his service record and saw that he retired as a Major would know he had been forced out, despite it being an Honorable Discharge.
So at 36 years old, Jake found himself working for a private security firm based in New York City. He managed to work for them a few years before his issues started to catch up with him. Jake was a broken man, and it carried over into his work. He had a drinking problem, and a short fuse. On his most recent job, he beat a paparazzi to a point that the poor camera man needed to be hospitalized.
On this particular night, he got pretty drunk and snuck past security in the Chrysler Building. He made his way out onto one of the iconic gargoyles and stood there, a bottle of whiskey in hand. He took another long swig.
"Fuck you, world!"
He drained the bottle and then threw it with all his might at the sky. He lost track of it in the dark, but he didn't care. Soon he would join the bottle on the streets below. Shattered into a million pieces, just like his heart.
Tears streaming down his face, he stepped closer to the edge. He looked down at the tiny points of light moving this way and that. Dead people living dead lives. They just didn't know it yet. Jobless, soon to be homeless, and broken; Jake came to the conclusion that jumping was the only way out. His lips twisted back into a sick, feral grin as he thought about the possibility of killing someone when he impacted the ground. Some innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Ooo boy! That one is gonna be fun to watch you explain Saint Peter, you fucking bitch!"
He held two middle fingers up at the sky.
"Do you hear me, you heartless fuck?! Yeah! That's right! I'm talking to you, God! I dare you to stop me!"
He lowered his hands and waited a moment. Just to see if the Almighty would stop him. But no angels appeared. Even the wind stopped blowing.
"Fuck. Even God wants me dead I guess."
He took a step closer to the edge and looked down. He tried to pick his target. Then he got a wild idea. He fished out his phone, he was going to live stream his fall.
"Let's see you take this one down Zucka-fuck. I bet you it goes viral."
He started to drunkenly fumbling with the settings when a notification popped up. In his desperation earlier that week, he started looking for a roommate on CraigsList. He applied to a few listings, but never got a reply. Until now.
"Dafuq isâŚ"
He opened the message.
"Hello applicant. I have reviewed your application to be my roommate, and I think you would be perfect. Some things you should know about me. I am a vampire, and I have very specific needs if you agree to become my roommate. The primary need is blood. Specifically, your blood. Which you will agree to let me have whenever I request. If you are still interested, please come to the address listed in this email at your earliest convenience. Best Wishes, Mara."
Jake read the address. "That's a swank part of town. This has got to be a joke." He thought as he re-read the email. "Vampire huh? Probably some rich girl with a complex who is just gonna kill me. Might as well."
Jake made his way out of the building and started walking, or rather staggering down the street. He rounded a corner and saw a crowd of people gathered around a bike courier, who was lying unconscious with broken glass all around him. Jake snickered at the thought that he was the one who threw the bottle. "Good thing that bastard was wearing his helmet."
He wandered down onto the subway to make his way uptown. As the cars sped along, their rocking motion lulled him to sleep.
"Jake. Wake up."
Jake's eyes shot open. He wasn't sure how long he had been out. The subway was slowing down for his exit. The cars came to a stop and he got out.
"Who the hell's voice was that?" He thought as he made his way back up to street level.
He shook his head to clear it. He caught the smell of fresh coffee and spotted a street vendor and made his way over.
"Strong and black." He told the street vendor. He paid the man and started sipping his coffee as he continued on. A few blocks later, he came to the address in the email. He stood before one of the higher end apartment buildings in New York.
"Yeah, this has got to be a joke."
The doorman saw Jake standing there looking up at the building.
"Good evening, Detective. Can I help you?"
Jake looked at the doorman like he was on crack. "Detective?"
He looked down at the way he was dressed and it dawned on him. Jake was wearing a mid-range priced suit and tie with patent leather shoes, close cropped hair, and clean shaven. Jake laughed.
"Sorry, bro, I'm not a detective, or even a cop. I am here to see a lady named Mara? She put out an ad for a roommate."
"Ah. Yes sir." The doorman opened the door for Jake. "Through the lobby, second elevator on the left. That will take you to her penthouse. She told me an applicant might be coming by."
Jake thanked the doorman and made his way to the elevator. "Penthouse? Fuck. This has got to be a joke." He thought as he rode the elevator to the top floor.