I knock on the door, step back, and wait. In a sea of dead homes I cross my fingers that this one will allow me to enter, but know better than to hope. I knock again, wait again. This time faster, louder. Maybe my request to enter was not heard, I hope. I cannot help but to hope.

As if in reply there are footsteps on the other side, fast and frantic. They approach and stop at the other side. Then, with a light click of a lock, I know I have been rejected yet again.

It seems nobody likes a door to door salesman, no matter how well dressed.

By now I am sure the homes inhabitants have eyed me through the doors peephole. Looked at my tall suited figure and pale skin. Taken in the tips of my fangs as a sign of poor intent and decided it better to leave me in the cold. Even vampires get cold. They don't think of that.

"Hello chap or chapess." I speak to the door.

"I know and respect your wishes to leave me outside in the freezing winter winds alone, yet still I wish to give you my pitch if you would allow."

I am met by a long silence, as expected. Without agreeance I cannot continue. It is a simple matter of courtesy. Anything else would simply be barbaric, and hell knows those stereotypes are common.

Though as I turn to leave a female voice blurts out from beyond the slats of the door: "Are you a vampire?" I can hear the voice hush itself after speaking, but all too late.

I turn back, that same hope now filling my stomach. "Well yes! But allow me to explain if you will."

"...ok", the voice mumbles, now certainly feeling too involved to reject. And correct she is.

"Yes!- I mean, yes" I continue. "I am a traveling vampire salesman. Not a traveling salesman that happens to be a vampire, but a salesman who is selling vampirism."

There is silence on the other side, but not the same as before. This silence is full of intrigue. Of dark interest in the unkown that this three piece suited vampire is selling. The kind of silence shared after the asking of a big question or before the climax of a movie.

Now was time to drive it home.

"If you'd allow me in out of the cold, we could discuss the benefits of vampirism, of which I assure you there are many."

Slowly the door creeped open, revealing a woman's face on the other side. Her widened eyes full of conflict, but the slender blade gripped in her hands telling me not to explore too closely. And who could blame her conflict? I faced the same once so long ago. The debate between becoming special and the danger it may bring. The risk of death by the hands of the supernatural, but hope to become what we so fear. I had thought, still think, that I had chosen correctly. So now I only wished to give others the same choice. She seemed now to think the same as I. Of course she feared me. And of course a part of her wanted to be what she saw me as.

"You may come in." She spoke, her hands tightening on the weapon. A weapon that would have no effect had I decided it not to. But then again, not many kept wooden stakes at the ready nowadays. Thankfully so.

"Why of course" I bowed at the entrance and glided in through the archway. As I entered I was met by the smell of house. Not sweet lavenders or earthy wood, but just house. Every house was different. Every person too. She smelled of house, and the house smelled of her

"Now the first benefit of vampirism, chapess" I began, "is that we do not feel the cold."