The Final Workshop

The final letter from my father led me back to Victoria. Although I was supposed to go to a mechanic in Hawthorn, I didn’t feel quite ready yet. I still had a lot to process.

After the long drive from Queensland, though, I did actually need some car repairs. So I drove toward the city in a struggling car, and managed to pull up at a South Yarra car service. From there it was back on the road, toward the final workshop my father worked at,  in Hawthorn, before becoming a billionaire.

From there, I could actually see the castle I’d grown up in, looming on top of the hills in Melbourne’s east. The Yarra Valley. My home. Perhaps I’d be returning there soon, this time with several billion dollars to my name.

But the money wasn’t even important anymore. What I really cared about was learning the truth about my father. The entire truth, this time. Hopefully I’d find the last pieces of the puzzle at his car service. Around Hawthorn, I’ve found there are plenty of places to park, so I put my car across from the auto shop and walked over. My father hadn’t listed any auto work to be done on my car here.

The owner of this workshop was a pale man with slick black hair and a crimson cape. He held a glass of red wine that smelt strongly of metal, swirling it around as I approached. His grin was toothy, canine teeth sharp, almost as if he had sanded them into that shape. I supposed this man really liked his meat.

“Ah, William Hunter Jr, so nice of you to join me,” the owner said. “So, have you worked out your father’s big secret yet?”

I nodded and sighed. “He is not my real father. My name must not be William Jr, for I was adopted. Before becoming a billionaire, my father was nothing but a simple mechanic.”

The man cocked his head. “What? That’s what you got out of this? No, boy. Your father was a vampire.”

– Will Hunter