CRASH! Tinkle.
Charlie, Matt, and the long-toothed Nosferatu stopped circling each other as Charlie stared in horror at the shattered mirror he'd just dropped.
"My, what a shame," the Nosferatu purred as he shook his long-nailed finger at Charlie. "Now you will have seven years bad luck."
"That's just a silly superstition," Matt interjected as he pushed some of the shards with the toe of his hiking boot.
"You don't believe in luck?" it said as it stood next to Matt looking down at the broken glass.
"No," Matt replied as Charlie drove a wooden stake into the vampire's back.