Julian knew that the sun had it in for him. It had killed his father and his grandfather. It abhorred him.

To prevent the sun from seeing him, Julian hung blinds and shades and curtains and drapes and shutters over his windows and kept them always closed. When he left his apartment, he wore a hood and scarf and shades so dark that he could barely see. He dared not use a stick or a seeing eye dog to guide him for fear of drawing attention to himself, so he usually spent as much time stumbling and falling as walking.

Julian dreamed of a world with no sun, a world where he could be free. During the long nights he worked as a security guard, he mused about ways to make this dream come true. He never developed a viable plan. The sun was too big. It was too far away. It was too powerful. How could Julian take on an adversary like that? It wasn’t fair. The sun was a bully.

Julian wasn’t aware that his neighbors talked about him. It started with the two boys in the apartment next to his. They hung garlic on their apartment door and, when their parents asked them why, they answered that the man in 5C was a vampire. At first, the parents joked about the rich imaginations of their sons. But, with time, doubt grew in their hearts and, within three months, they had been convinced. Dutifully, they warned all the other neighbors.

The building manager, a skeptic who thought of Julian simply as a freak, knocked on his door one day. Julian answered with a black cowl covering his head. He grabbed the manager’s arm and dragged him inside the pitch-black apartment. Once the door was closed, the manager heard Julian remove the cowl.

"I’m sorry I had to do that," said Julian, "but there’s a window in the hall and I cannot let the sun see me."

"Well," said the manager, "that’s exactly what I’ve come to talk to you about. The other tenants are convinced that you’re a vampire. That’s unacceptable. I cannot allow one tenant to cause the entire building to live in fear. You’ll have to modify your behavior or move out."

"But I am a vampire," said Julian. "I don’t drink human blood or anything. I’m very peaceful. But I am a vampire, nonetheless. The sun hates me."

"Okay, look," said the manager. "I’ve given you your warning. If you don’t shape up, you can expect to receive an eviction notice."

"You can’t throw me out," Julian pleaded. "You can’t make me go out there. The sun will kill me."

"I don’t have time for this," said the manager. "I’ve said all I have to say."

Then he grabbed the knob behind him and swung the door open. The sun was setting directly opposite the window in the hallway and its rays streamed into Julian’s apartment, bathing everything in a harsh yellow light.

Julian gave a pitiful shout and collapsed, dead.

The manager heard a terrifying cackle and looked up. He was sure he saw the sun grinning evilly through its orange corona. Then a triumphant voice echoed through the hall. "Gotcha!" it said.