Vampires don’t get viruses.
Their cellular structure doesn’t allow for foreign interference, so the need to self-isolate isn’t necessary for the survival of their species.
Which sucks for vampires, because they are great at spending months or years on end hidden from society.
It also makes them invaluable to the survival of their food source.
Nichol, having tracked the evolution of the COVID19 spread since its early days, was quick to jump on the creation of a local vamp-based delivery app. Knowing many people are struggling to pay bills, Nichol uses the haunt’s investment slush fund to cover all expenses and has added a donation option into the app which links to the local animal shelter in lieu of tips. Humans sign up, choose the grocery products they need, and have them delivered.
Theoretically, the idea is sound. Humans get fed and stay home, vampires get some positive press in the local media.
But, of course, Nichol’s idea requires two things: One vampire to monitor and troubleshoot the app from the quiet of the haunt’s communication room, seven to shop and deliver.
Dominic is quick to jump into his new role, but the novelty wears off midway through the soup aisle. With his order loaded up on his phone, he’s given up on trying to find the requested brands and has resorted to tossing the closest match into his cart while he dodges other shoppers. With the timer Nichol codes into the app ticking down, he’s determined to beat the clock so he has bragging rights against his slower hauntmates. He gets eleven speeding tickets on the first week and his customer satisfaction rating hovers around two out of five stars.
Mickey and Louis have teamed up to do their orders. While their decision was based on the theory ‘two heads are better than one’, they didn’t take into account the fact neither of them has shopped for groceries in over 200 years. They spend more time trying to top each other’s jokes in the produce section than they do actually filling their carts. Louis is stunned by the selection of French fries in the freezer aisle and Mickey hasn’t stopped muttering about the idea of meatless meat since the second night. By the end of the seventh night, Louis is rating high for courteousness but low for punctuality. Mickey has received four post-isolation date offers in his ratings comments.
Jagger spends six hours perusing the store on his first order, earning a one out of five for speed and providing the others with a solid night of bragging rights over their own speed ratings. But by the end of his second night, the map he’d meticulously created has put him top of the haunt in both speed and accuracy of order fulfillment. He already has preferred cashiers because of their bagging methods and has made friends with the woman behind the deli counter. His discovery of the existence of cooler bags made his week. He has a solid 4.5 rating.
Rhys sits in his SUV playing Solitaire on his phone until he receives a text letting him know his orders are ready for pickup. He’s paid off three younger vamps from other haunts to do his shopping and slipped the store manager a hefty sum to allow them to exit via the loading docks to avoid detection from his own hauntmates. His speed rating is 5/5 and his accuracy is holding strong at 3.5/5. His courteousness rating is 1.5 and he’s had fourteen complaints about his foul language. Three women and two men have left their phone numbers in his comments.
Kaius’s punctuality and speed ratings are the lowest in the haunt, but he’s received glowing reviews about his substitution selections. Whenever he can’t find an item in stock, he looks it up on his phone and compares the ingredients and nutritional label to every other option available. The store employees have taken to pointing out numerous locations he can park his cart while he assesses his options instead of blocking the aisle. He becomes stressed in the bakery department but has mastered the selecting of perfect avocados. His low speed rating bothers him, but he’s pleased with his 5/5 for courteousness.
Boy is frequently assigned multiple orders at once, which he keeps organized with colored bins he bought at the end of his first night. The security guard at the door side-eyes him every time he enters, but the women working the aisles have been nothing but helpful and kind. Whenever he encounters Dominic, he silently switches the crushed bread for fresh loaves and trades out the brown bananas for firm yellow ones. He knows Rhys is sitting in his SUV at the back of the store and tries to help out the three young vamps doing Rhys’s shopping. He received one parking ticket on his second night and it’s bothered him ever since. His last delivery left him a card taped to the door thanking him. It’s the first card he’s ever received. He intends to display it in his room in the bloodslave quarters, but doesn’t want to ruin it with tape or a tack. Boy is the only hauntmate with perfect ratings across the board, and he’s brought in more tip donations than the rest of the haunt combined.