Hector sat on the corner of the park bench, and stretched his legs. He and Mojo had stopped here during their trip, and just taken the opportunity to enjoy a pit stop during their very very simple cross country tour.

The drive up to here had been mostly uneventful. Mostly was a nice word to describe that technically, it had been a hot mess, but he could make due.

He had a very solid grasp of what that meant for him. Mojo had her massive head up to the throat in a bucket of Taco Bell, greedily making sure that not the tiniest bit of special sauce escaped her grasp.

“And then, ” The old man read, turning the page of the cheap paperback novel, reading it at arm's length because he had sat on his glasses, “, he said “It's twilight. It’s the safest time of day for us. The easiest time. But also the saddest, in a way...the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” ”

The old man paused. It was so wrong that it hurt, but it was a nice enough approach. He could not even begin to describe the conflicting emotions in his chest.

On the one hand, he was fairly secure in his knowledge that the author of this flaming pile of hot garbage was a ghoul. She just got many things precisely right. Not about the important things, but the things in between the lines. Horribly, massively overblown, but at the same time, nice and easy. Possibly the maricon vampires, the Toreador, he was in fact fairly certain that he remembered something like that from one of them.

(He was not, in fact, homophobic. In his opinion, what you did with whomever you got to do it with was between the two of you, as far as he was concerned. But there was regular man loving, just being close to another man, and then there was that man loving that was assless chaps, codpieces, leather hats, screaming, fainting couches, and clothes a blind pimp high on LSD on a white people golf course would think those are “too much”. Some of his best friends were Toreador, but then again, some of his best friends were Nosferatu. It takes all sorts of vatos to make the world an interesting place)

The dog stopped for a second, pulled her sauced up head out of the bucket, released a massive fart and itched herself with her hindleg.

“What’s a twilight, Hector”, Mojo asked, panting a bit, as the remains of a galleon of baja blast, 3 Nacho Cheese Doritos Locos Taco, 5 Beefy 5-Layer Burritos, 12 Cheesy crunchy Gorditas, and 6 Chalupas supreme settled. She was on a bit of a diet, and big girls like her needed to maintain their mass.

He had never understood those restrictions that other Gangrel placed on the gifts of their blood in that regard. For him, it was like this:

Other gangrel had ghouls that they touched maybe 2 times per month, and as a result, those pinche animales were stupid like a white bitch at the publix, to say it politely. For him, that was like a child that you do not pick up, you do not play with, you do not buy sweets for, you do not tell fucked up stories to….

Why even be around children then? They probably hated your ass already for not being fun at all. That child was probably better off with you not being around.

Hector was of the other school of thought on the issue. .

He did not have a menagerie of ghouls, because the pure thought of having even human ghouls disgusted him. That was enslavement, that was having someone around you that could not shut the fuck up for five minutes, that was having to get the belt…. He shuddered. Okay, it was enslavement and unwanted social contact. If he wanted that, he could always go to the old folks home.

Instead, he had limited himself to one ghoul, and one ghoul only.

Mojo.

Mojo, with her 400 lbs liveweight, practically qualified as a ghoul in the human sense. She could wear muscle shirts of clan Bruhja. Her raza, the Boerboel, were used in Africa to hunt the lions. Hector imagined that. Of course, as every young gangrel had, at least once, he had sat next to a lion, just to see what was up, and if all the stories were true.

(In the interest of full disclosure, he thought, it would be fair to say that the poor creature that was so broken that it did not even mind him had disgusted him so much that he had just opened the door, and cut a hole into the enclosure. He could still feel that surprise, and respect of the big cat for him, as that big cat had told him who precisely had been supposed to feed him, and where his ass was. BUt, that was mexico, and it felt like a lifetime ago that he had been in the civil war)

With Mojo, it was similar. She had been turned because she took a bullet that was meant for him. He believed in few things, of which Mexican Jesus was one of them, but Karma had its place too.

He had been fated to die at that place.

The fact that he was still alive was allö thanks to Mojo. So, unofficially, he owed her his unlife. As long as he was still kicking it, she would not miss a single thing. And she would always be there, as long as he had a drop of blood to spend.

He had found out that with her, the idea of the animal ghouls only being able to speak in images, impressions, and so forth, lost weight. More and more, over his long stretches in the wilderness of the americas, he had grown used to the idea of talking in her language to her, while he did other shit. It was the same as with white people's babies. The more you talked to them, the more they learned.

He smiled, and reached over to scritch her head a bit.

“Sorry, gordita, I was lost in the mind. Thank you for being patient with me. What were you asking again? ”

“What is twilight? Like, in the story in the book? ”

He sighed, and looked up.

“Like…. You are around all day, right? You have a sleep during the day, a sleep during the night, right? ”

She nodded, after a short pause.

“Yea, but, like, sometimes, I also have a nap twice. Or, I don’t nap at all. Or, I just sit around and look at stuff. ”

“Okay, good, exactly what I meant. Now, you know how sometimes, in the sky, it is all blue, and the sun is shining? ”

“That is called day, Hector. You already told me that. I can remember that much. ”

“Heina, relax, just checking. So, opposite the night is the day. Now, it gets a bit complicated, so put your brain in neutral. Mojo, how do you figure out when it is night or day?”

He loved this. Often, people equated size and muscle with stupidity. With Mojo, she was not the sharpest tool in the shed, but she managed to surprise even him sometimes.

“When you are around it is night, when you are not around it is day. Except when you are not around for a longer time, then it is night, and naptime, because the more I nap the faster you are there again. I don’t like that at all. “

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Hector tried to keep his face neutral. What did the kids say? Right in the feels? Sometimes, Hector had the distinct feeling that Mojo knew a lot more about how he was feeling than anyone else.

“Very good, Mojito. Now, Expert round, no new treats yet, but keep that snout moist. You know that during the time of the day, the streetlights are off, because the sun is shining. During the night, the streetlights are on, because sometimes, the moon is not shining. Tu sabes?”

“Yus. I pee on street lanterns, because sometimes, evil Trembere come out of that. ”

“Valid. ” He chuckled. “But The point I am making is, have you ever been awake when the sun has already been down, but the moon is not yet up? That time when the lanterns on the street have to think about when they wanna be on? That is a special time, that is what the author called Twilight. These days, it don’t mean much, with all the neon light, and stuff, and the cellphones, but when I was young and in Mexico, That meant something. That was like with the clock for the humans. If the watch says 19:20, you don’t know what that means. That is white people's time. But if you have the long arrow point at the 4, and the short arrow point between the 7 and 8, you can go, aha, I know how long it takes to move, and when the sun goes down, so I better get going. ”

He gave her a bit of time to think on that. He never was too good with people, (his occasional trips to the retirement homes and the bars excluded), but he was good with animals.

Mojo wagged her tail happily, looking up at him with big eyes. .

“Then the person that wrote the book is stupid. ”

He grinned.

“What makes you say that, wisest of all Mojos?”

“She says vampires are out when it’s day. You just lie still during the day. But I know, you are not dead or anything, because I can still smell you. So either she does not know vampires, or she gets them wrong. ”

Hector pondered. Mojo was more complicated at times then people gave her credit for.

“Okay. I have to say, that is pinche pelota wise. I have a good idea that she gets them wrong intentionally. ”

Mojo carefully laid her big head on his lap, yawned, and gave it a big stretch.

“Why does she get it wrong intentionally then? Is she stupid?”

He had to think for a moment. How to explain something like the idea of the Masquerade? That was a bit more complicated.

“You remember when we had the discussion about your collar? ”

“Yea…”

“Kinda like that, gordita. See the similarities in that and the Masquerade. You got to wear the collar so other people know that you are alright. You know, so they get that you are not a bad dog, you know, they see the muscles, they see your size, they see the fact that their entire fist fits inside your mouth…. But what they don’t see is that you are a good dog. ”

The old man smiled, and flopped her ear a bit, enjoying the cool evening breeze. Trying, as far as he could tell, to be a very good girl. The same good girl who had once eaten the front tire off of a Mercedes, because it had annoyed her.

“That is basically the same as with us. Only, we don’t have someone that can give us a collar that says, this vato has a dog, guey, he is no trouble, they see pale skin, they see pointy teeth, and they are afraid. So, we got to make our own collar. “

Mojo thought about this one for a while. Hector could just about see the wheels turning furiously.

“So…. People like you, vampires, are using stories like this to tell the people, “Look, we are harmless”, so they are not afraid? Is that right? ”

“Pretty much. I wish there was more behind it, but if you want to break it down, that is exactly what we do. ”

“But the story is not true. You are not out during the day. ”

The old man smiled.

“Bad dogs, just as good dogs, can wear collars. Some of the best dogs I know have never ever worn a collar. Some of the worst dogs I know wear collars. The trick is, this way, with those stories, they go, and be all, “But he could be one of the good ones. ””

Mojo farted loudly, and looked up to him.

“Okay…”

It did not sound very convinced. Hector smiled reassuringly. How to put it…

“So, some vatos that are way older than me, and way stronger, came up with the idea that maybe, just maybe, if they have like a bunch of stories about how vampires are like really weird and bullshit angsty, people will do the same as with you. They will look at a vampire, and go, “maybe I don’t have to be afraid, he could be one of the good ones” They call that the masquerade. The only difference between the collar and the masquerade is, we can ask the humans to help us. ”

Both sat there, silent, thinking. The old man followed the thought further.

“And Mojo, Like a collar, the masquerade is also for us. It tells us what we can be. What is possible now. Like, you think right now, I could take that collar off, it would take me a while, but then, I would have no collar, and be walking up all bad and shit, and go, “whassup, I am mojo”. The same is true for the masquerade. I could go up to the people, popp out my fangs, and go, ARRRRR. Whatup, fools, lets fucking go, pinche idiotas…”

The old man chuckled.

“But that would mean I would have to work really hard to get that collar back on. And all the while while my collar is off, it would be difficult for the people that are like me to have collars and no problems. ”

Mojo remained silent for a long time.

“I know, you don’t like the collar, and sometimes, it itches, and we have to take it off, but I make sure that you have the choice. What do you wanna be? Someone that is seen as a good girl, and maybe sometimes has an itchy neck, or a bad girl, that gets a lot of people afraid? Maybe something in between, where you have times where you put on two or even five collars, but also times where I take off your collar, so you can fuck someone up without getting it dirty? And that is why I may disagree with the Huevónes of The cams, but I still agree with how they do it. ”

The old man shook a cigarette out of the pack, put it in his mouth, and lit it. The dog followed, only a second later, and took her massive head from his lap.

“So, all those stories about your people, that are very wrong…. That is just to hide that some of you can be bad? ”

The old man shrugged.

“IF you wanna take it that way… yes. Mostly, though, it's for the ones that can not behave nicely. ”

A tilting of a massive head followed, and he breathed out. She was close to getting it, but it required more work.

“Mojo, you remember Papa Coño? The guy from Florida?”

“The one that smelled really bad, but gave me a lot of bones?”

Hector had to smile. The Perra had just finished off a portion size that would have fed a family of four, and again thought about food. That was Mojo for you, he thought.

“The very one. You remember how the smell was so bad that you could not sit next to him, and I had to get the ‘rub? ”

The dog nodded, solemnly.

“That was okay, by the way. Don’t worry about it. The thing is, he can not hide that smell. I saw it. In the beginning, when I first got to know him, way before your time, I was all, guey, the fuck, go taker a shower, bro, you make flowers wilt. I held him under the shower, by the throat, for a full hour, used shampoo and everything, but a minute or so after he was not underwater, he started smelling again. He can really not hide it. So, if I am bad, and take off the masquerade, I can run away, hide, and nobody will find me, ever. I don’t give a pinche fuck that way. But at the same time, Papa Coño can’t. I could now get out there, drop my collar, and fuck shit upo,. And get by, at least for a while, because I can.

Papa Coño can’t, and it shows. Thus, if I fuck up, and get bad, I have a harder time, he has a much harder time, because he can not do the same things like me. I can at least pass for a sick human, I can take a bus. He can’t.

This is why when I stay good, I don’t do it for myself alone. I make the choice that is also good for the other ones. ”

The dog and the old man went silent for a long time, and stayed that way. Finally, the dog spoke up.

“So… you are not a good boy?”

The old man smiled, and stroked the massively flopped ears of his Dog.

“Not really, Mojo. I mean, I have a lot of stuff that would qualify me as a bad boy. Shit I have done in Mexico…. ” The old man sighed. “That stuff does not even qualify me as human anymore. That is stuff that humans do that they say animals do that is not right, where with an animal, it would be what an animal does because an animal don’t know any better, but with a human, he does it because he is being a puta. ”

The dog flopped its ear, lazily, and put its head back into the lap. Hector felt that more explanation was needed.

“I used to be bad, and I mean, really bad. So bad that I look back, and despite me having been the one that did it,. I go, that was wrong. I fully admit that, and go, that’s not a point you can change. But on the opposite point, you have the camarilla that is iron clad to be good, and good only. The other putas”, he pulled a face quickly, as he thought of the opposition force from back then, “They go the other way. You have to be as bad as possible. I don’t fit into that world of extremes. I can’t be just good or just bad, and while I can find my own way, I can’t be for forcing others to do what works for me. ”

“So, what’s left for you, Hector?”

“I guess, I can figure out just being first. Most of what I can’t do is follow other people. ”

“But… didn’t you like mister one eye?”

“Yea, but that’s different. He makes sense, and I can move in the same direction as him, but only up to a point. I am not one of those white skonkas that worship him as a god, I am more like someone that treats him like any other vato. I listen to him, because he is old enough to know what he is talking about. I listen to him, just like I listen to a vato of a single winter who tells me how to plug in my smartphone into the wall. There is stuff out there that I do not know, y others know, and they will tell and I will listen.

But the second they go, this and this is the only way, and if you don’t I’mma be cross with chu, I will pack my things and go. Tu sabes, That is why I was independent for the longest time. ”

Mojo nodded. Hector Thought about how she had only known him for the tail end of this, as for her it was mostly a game.

“IN the independants, it never mattered where you came from. It was like, you have this pool of people, and if you don’t like that is at one end of the pool, just grab your drink and your bitch, and float over to the other side of the pool, to be there. Check our new people, meet new faces, hear new stories…. ”

The old man sighed, happily. Mojo used the opportunity to cuddle up more in the lap.

“I know I don’t easily fit in, gordita, and it’s not for a lack of trying. But I can’t respect forcing someone to be like you. I can respect following because it makes sense. If it doesn't make sense, why follow? That is why I told you a hundred times, if you have a problem with how I do things, speak up. I can try to do things differently, I can try to see new points… shit, that is why other vampires have ghouls. Keeps us fresh and shit. ”

The dog seemed to think for a bit. Then, she licked Hector's hand.

“You could go and buy me more taco bell. ”

The old man smiled, bent down, and kissed the dog gently on the nose.

“Tell you what. The two of us hop into the oldsmobile, rip down a few miles of road, and then it is morning already again. You and me have a sleep, and when I wake up at night, we go and find ourselves the next taco bell, to get you some more food. Chin up, Mojo, as long as I got you, and you got me, the two of us will be just fine. “

The dog took her head off of his lap, and stretched.

Soon, the Oldsmobile drove off into the night.