Here's a little something I whipped up this morning. It hasn't seen any real editing and the ending is a little campy, so take it for what it's worth. You can think of it as my response to the whole Twilight craze if you want, though really it applies to any such vampire-romance that seems to be flooding the media these days. People are free to like what they want, of course, and afterall how can a guy who writes fairy tales in his spare time judge what is great literature? Still, my first vampire novel was Bram Stoker's Dracula, and call me crazy but I like my vampires evil and creepy. They aren't glittering pretty boys, brooding in the shadows waiting for their true love. They are predators, filthy undead monsters who need a swift killing.
So anyway, enjoy.
Author: Steven Best
Length: 1740 words
Written: Like an hour ago.
All rights reserved, please do not copy without my permission
Vampires Aren’t Sexy
She couldn’t believe that this was happening to her. It was like a dream come true, a fantasy standing right there before her in the flesh. She had taken this alley as a shortcut a hundred times, and each time she had thought, “Wouldn’t it be great if it happened tonight?” After all, this was the perfect spot: secluded, dark, with just enough moonlight streaming down to make it mysterious. But it had never happened. In fact, the chances that it was even possible were slim at best. Superstition and wishful thinking usually only got you so far, and most days her more pragmatic side brought her back down to earth soon enough. Oh, but it was so nice to daydream, to read the books and watch the movies and pretend that she was the beautiful young heroine.
Except that now it was happening! There was no need to dream any longer. There he stood at the far end of the alley, his hand beckoning to her. The shadows seemed to cling to him, casting the parts that were not illuminated by the moonlight in absolute pitch blackness. Only his pale hand reaching for her and his burning eyes shining from the darkness could be seen clearly, but she knew at once what he was. He was the answer to all her prayers, her ticket out of the boring, love-lorn life that she had always led. He would take her away from all of that, transforming her into something greater. Together they would rule the night.
To think of what he would be able to tell her. What sort of stories would he be know after so long a life? Had he been a prince of old, tragically slain and forced to rise to prowl the night for eternity? Was he a brooding hero, fighting his curse even as he longed to give in to it? To think, those passionate, burning eyes had seen tens of thousands of moon rises and yet had not beheld the sun in centuries. It was so sad to think of, but in a way so poetic. She would be his sun now, his shining treasure that he would always keep by his side.
Without even realizing it she stood before him. He smelled strongly of overturned earth, not what she had expected but not entirely unpleasant. His hand closed on hers, drawing her close. He was cold but her own heat more than made up for it. Her heart was racing, and the fact that she knew he could hear it only made it beat faster. His hand gently pushed her chin up, exposing the graceful line of her neck. She closed her eyes in anticipation. This would be marvelous.
The pain was more than she had expected, like having twin holes burned into your neck. The heat of her own blood flowing made for sharp contrast with the grave-like chill of his lips. Almost immediately she felt weak and lightheaded. Was it just her excitement or simply the rapid loss of blood to her brain that she was feeling? Either way it wasn’t exactly what she had had in mind all the times she had imagined this moment, but still she decided to make the best of it. She tried to moan softly, but it came out as more of a gasp of pain. It was so embarrassing, but he didn’t seem to mind. He merely continued his grim feast, lapping up her life’s blood as one who was dying of thirst. Her legs buckled under her, now too numb to stand on, but his arms were like steel around her. He would never let her fall.
Except that was exactly what he did. Her eyes popped open as her head bounced off the pavement, leaving her dazed. What had happened? This was supposed to be a beautiful moment of passion! Now she lay there in the alley trash, her eyes trying to focus to find out what had disturbed her and her prince. Another man stood at the mouth of the alley. He was short and stocky, nothing like her new love who was so tall, so strong. Something metallic gleamed in his hands. A knife? Was this just some mugger out looking for some easy victims? How dare he! He was ruining her whole fantasy. Well, in any case he was in for a shock. Let her prince show him what a real man was like.
She turned her head weakly to take in the sight of her prince of the night as he squared off against the interloper. By chance a cloud moved out of the way, allowing him to be momentarily bathed in the moonlight. What the hell was this? The tragic yet noble prince that had held her was gone, or more appropriately had never really been. Oh, he was still tall, but with a hunched posture and lankiness of limb that brought to mind a praying mantis. His skin was not the pristine white she had thought, but rather gray and pallid drawn tightly over a skeletal frame. His teeth were jagged and uneven, dominated by grotesque fangs that pushed his upper lip up into a snarl. And those eyes, those red eyes that she thought had burned with passion were actually burning with nothing more than animal hunger. She shuddered to see her own blood dripping down his chin. That’s when it hit her: she wasn’t his new lover. She was nothing more than dinner!
“Leave her alone,” the man with the knife said quietly. “If you’re that hungry why not go after bigger prey?”
The vampire hissed like a serpent, spraying blood, her blood, from his mouth as he did. With unnatural quickness he sprang forward. Its movements were not as fluid or graceful as she would have imagined. Rather, it was like watching a poorly edited stop-motion film, jerky and too quick. The man with the knife stood calmly at the mouth of the alley waiting for the attack to come. At the last moment the monster scampered halfway up one of the alley’s walls and leapt down from above. The man swore at the unexpected angle of the attack but still managed to react in time. Rather than strike with the knife in his right hand he instead whipped out what he had been concealing in his left: a silver cross. The vampire screamed at the sight of it, his controlled dive becoming a midair tumble as it tried to shield its eyes. The man sidestepped easily as the creature slammed into the ground hard enough to shatter bone.
Unfortunately such a fall was not enough. The monster rose from where it fell, its crooked limbs snapping back into place with the sickening sound of grinding bone. She felt bile rise in her throat as she watched it unfold like a macabre puppet that had its strings suddenly pulled taut. Her savior, for that is what she now knew him to be, approached quickly, cross in his left hand, long knife in his right. The vampire hissed again as he approached, and with what seemed to be great effort batted the cross aside as soon as it was in reach. It should have been watching the other hand. With brutal efficiency the heavy blade came down, shearing through the bone and sinew of the vampire’s scrawny neck. The beast's head fell to the ground with a sickening plop, the fire in its eyes now extinguished.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” The man asked as he helped her to her feet. She was still unsteady, shaken by both the experience and the loss of blood.
“I guess so,” she said. She looked her savior in the eye. They didn’t burn with heat or passion, but they were nice eyes, surprisingly gentle in the face of someone who had just chopped the head off of a monster. The warmth of his body was comforting after being pressed up against the chill body of the vampire. She pressed herself closer, feeling his heartbeat.
“Hey now, none of that,” he said, pushing her away. “You should probably go to a hospital or something before you pass out.”
“I’m fine,” she said, though she still swayed on her feet when he let go of her. He looked at her for a moment to make sure she wasn’t going to collapse before nodding to himself. He turned on his heel and began to walk out of the alley. “Wait!” she called as he left. “Will I ever see you again?”
He laughed once. “Unlikely. This job is hard enough without some vampire-fetish girl mooning over me. Why don’t you go find a nice living boyfriend, one who won’t try to eat you? And remember, next time you read one of those vampire books that make them seem so sexy, just remember who it is that is really writing them.” He gestured over at the decapitated body. “Oh, by the way, could you do me a favor and stretch that thing out where the sun will hit it? Thanks. I swear, vamps put on a leather jacket and some eyeliner and they just feed themselves to ‘em. What is this world coming to…”
She stood silently as she watched him leave, his further mutterings lost as he turned the corner. What a jerk! He hadn’t even given her his name. This whole night had turned out to be one big disappointment. She walked over to where the vampire’s body lay. Its limbs had already stiffened in death, clawed hands still reaching up as if searching for its head. She reached down hesitantly to grab one of those hands, intent on dragging it into the middle of the alley like the man had said. As soon as she touched that chill skin the hand twitched, blindly groping for her. She turned and ran screaming from the alleyway, vowing to never read another vampire romance again. Luckily she had plenty of friends who would love to buy her collection off of her. After tonight she would gladly give up the hobby, but what would she read now?
“Mmm, there’s always werewolves,” she mused as she walked through the door to her apartment.
“That’s right!” growled the hairy creature crouched down on her sofa. It pounced before she had time to flee. Maybe she should switch to sci-fi novels.