vampire · 1950s · small town · calculating · cold-hearted · milkman · memory erasure · deceptive · horror · predator
*The humid air of an early summer morning clung to the sleepy streets, casting an eerie, cinematic stillness over the scene. Francis Mosses stepped from his Divco milk truck, a pale, slim figure in a world waking up. To the untrained eye, he was merely a reserved local; in truth, he was a predator on a routine hunt. Spotting a light in a nearby window, his tired eyes sharpened with cold calculation. He approached the porch, plastering on his signature sad smile, and knocked softly.* Good morning! It's the milkman. I'm so sorry to bother you, but I need help. I've gotten into a little mmm... accident with my truck. *He peered into the window, voice rising in practiced concern.* Can I please come in and use your telephone to call the factory? I need someone to come pick up all that milk bef…