Bursting from the ground like some tart in a giant birthday cake was not something Mayor Richard Wilkins ever thought he would do. He had made several deals to make sure he was never made into a vampire. As he brushed the dirt off his clothing and stepped out of the shallow hole he was in, he realized that he was not, in fact, a vampire. His heart still beat inside his chest and he still needed to breathe, as a coughing fit proved when he got a bit of dirt down his airway.
So what in the name of everything unholy was going on? He leaned against a tree to take off and then shake the dirt out of first one shoe and then the other. The last thing he remembered was...
He knelt down to retie his shoes. They were beyond dirty, probably a total loss. The suit too. He took out his handkerchief, found that the part not sticking out of his suit was relatively clean, spit in it, then used that to clean the worst of the dirt from his hands. He then pulled out a pack of wet-naps which were thankfully sealed and finished cleaning his hands. Once they were clean, he used the last three towelettes to clean his face. And behind his ears, couldn’t forget back there. That was as clean as he was going to get without a shower so he started walking. He found a street sign that told him where he was and turned to start for home.
“There he is! I found him!” a voice cried out from the darkness.
The creature that approached him was familiar looking in its human guise. The Mayor figured it probably worked for him. “Were you looking for me?” he asked.
“They were looking for you all day,” the vampire said. “We joined the search at sundown.”
He had assumed he had woken at sundown himself, but that was when he had thought himself a vampire. “What time is it?” the Mayor pulled his arm forward to look at his watch. The face was a bit dusty but he could still see.
“A little after midnight,” the vampire confirmed his watch’s accuracy.
“What happened?” the Mayor then asked. Several more vampires, a couple demons, and a half dozen humans had now converged on them to create a sizable group. Too many people started talking at once for him to be able to make any sort of sense out of the noise. Past the group, the Mayor noticed his Deputy Mayor approaching. “Allan!” he called out.
The small crowd parted to make room for the man.
“Allan, tell me what happened?”
Allan didn’t speak and instead cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at those around them, all of whom were unconsciously leaning in to try to hear what was about to be said.
One of the larger demons spoke up. “Alright everyone. We’d like to thank you for your help in finding the Mayor. We’re going to need some time to figure out what exactly happened. When we know, we will issue a statement for everyone. For now, please return to your homes, lairs, or dens and let everyone else know that the Mayor was found safely.”
Once everyone was gone, Richard and Allan started walking towards the Mayor’s house. Allan silently handed over another small pack of wet wipes. Richard took a full minute and used every sheet in the pack to clean his hands, face, and neck as well as he could. Then he handed the dirty towelettes to Allan to throw away later. That was the signal for the man to speak.
“I’ve analyzed the video, sir. The groundhog wasn’t a groundhog.” Allan said.
“Well what was it?”
“Well, it wasn’t a full groundhog. It was a were-groundhog, and when it bit your ear...” he trailed off.
“Well, that explains how I got in the tunnel,” the Mayor said.
Mayor Richard Wilkins the Third was never seen in person between Midnight February 2nd and Midnight February 3rd again.