"Why do they shut their doors so fiercely?" asked Felicia on a rare family holiday to the Hebrides. "Anyone would think them afraid."
"They're afraid of the nocturnal creatures." Gillian was still stiff from being in the car all the previous night followed by a coffin all day. Bones popped as she stretched.
"What? Foxes and moths?"
"No, silly." Frederick lit his pipe. "Us. They're afraid of vampires, werewolves, hosts and demons."
"But we're still here in the daytime," said Harold. "Gillian's the only nocturnal one among us. The rest of us are booked in at the hotel suite for the whole week."