Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Fairy Tales & Fantasy
- Subject: Creatures & Monsters
- Published: 07/08/2016
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Three shots before you could even say: “One!”
Vlad staggered under the impact. He went down to one knee. His face pale, ashen, like a dead man. Which he was.
He looked up, his fangs dripping some kind of clear fluid.
“Were…were…were (his voice fading to a whisper with each word) were those …silver…bullets?”
Quincy felt a pang of mercy for the fallen, and failing creature:
“Yes. Yes they were.”
At that Vlad sprung to his feet, forcing Quincy to back up, startled. Vlad’s cape flowed out, and his long arms extended towards Quincy…
when Vlad opened his hand, there they were: three perfectly formed, shiny, silver bullets.
“They didn’t work.”
Vlad loved the look on Quincy’s face, as it changed from startled, to bewildered, to baffled, to …fear. A kaleidoscope of emotions. He loved how humans could say so much without a single word. It was one of the things Vlad loved best about them. He wasn’t cruel, as vampires sometimes are, but he did make humans die slowly, because he loved the expressions, especially the ones of ecstasy when his fangs first fed on them. It was way better than any movie he had ever seen, and much more real. When humans die, there is no acting, it is the one time in their lives (as short as they are) where there is no artifice, no phoniness, no fake smiles, or worthless platitudes. No. Not at all. A human dying is a beautiful moment full of truth.
“But…but…but…”
“I know, Quincy. I know. “
At this point Vlad took up the posture of a pedantic professor, and waved an imaginary pointer at an imaginary chalkboard. In a remarkable impression of a professor who has given that same lecture to many times- his voice capturing just the right tint of boredom, but hope that at least one of the students …this semester, might make it worth while to keep talking. He pointed:
“You can use silver bullets to kill a vampire. You do not have to hit him in a vital organ. Anywhere will do. When silver touches him it is like a poison. If you hold up a cross, he will cower long enough for you to drive a stake…preferably wood, or some other once living thing, like a thigh bone, will kill him too. But…well, you have to make sure it is right through the heart- or the wound will heal. You can’t kill a vampire with garlic, but you can make him leave the room. “
Vlad laughed out loud:
“Quincy, those are all folk tales, old wives tales, and none of them work. Well, okay, the garlic can make us leave a room, but garlic in the amount you put on to protect yourself will make other humans leave the room too. Not so?”
Quincy had recovered his wits, at least the few he had left that would work for him.
“Yes. I guess that is true. To be perfectly honest with you, I never thought the garlic would work. I did think the other two methods would though.”
“See , Quincy. That is what I like about you. You are honest. Well, except for not knowing a damn thing about Vampires, that is. “
Quincy blushed. He knew what the Vampire was talking about. Before tonight, Quincy had never met a vampire. Not in real life. Or death. Quincy was known as the world’s foremost expert on them though. He had written more than 20 books on the subject, even tracing the ancestral roots of vampires back, way back, way before a “Dracula” was made up, and the image stuck. Now, everything he wrote must look very silly to a real vampire. Especially one standing in front of you holding your three silver bullets. The only ones he has. Or anyway, had.
“It was a nice tight shot group. I mean all three bullet holes could be covered by a quarter. “
Vlad pulled aside his cape to show Quincy the three neat holes in his vest. The wounds, of course, had healed immediately.
“Okay, Quincy, we need to have a chat. Are you going to try anymore tricks? Holy Water, maybe? A crucifix with Jesus’s body on it? Garlic?”
“No. No. I will take your word that those things are not going to help me.”
“Help you? (again he laughed) You mean kill me, don’t you?”
“Err…ummm…eh…yeah, well, to put it bluntly, yes.”
“See? That is why I like you. You are basically honest when faced with the truth. Stop looking so scared. I am not going to kill you. Feed off of you. Or enslave you. That is movie stuff. We only need to eat about every fifty years or so. Granted, we do need all the blood in a human body. Some Vamps do eat two, but that is just greedy. The second one is much like a third piece of pie, or cake, for you guys…not anywhere near as tasty as the first piece, and later you regret even having eaten the second piece, and the third piece makes you hate yourself. It is like that. Kind of.”
“Then what do you want with me? Do you want me to write a book about you or something?”
Vlad laughed so hard he floated into the air. It turns out, that vamps (as they call themselves) have to concentrate fairly hard to maintain contact with the earth. Kind of like the concentration on a drunk trying to walk the line, but much easier for the Vamp.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but nobody is going to beat Ann’s book about the Interview with a Vampire. Or any of her other books. She made fantasy real. Your books are boring academic tomes in comparison. And that is a good thing…because your books are interesting to me. I love the historical part of them. Some of what you dug up, I did not know. All the wacky things you thought about how we feed, how often, and how to kill us, that is all crap, as you have just discovered. But …finding us in China, South America, and Africa, and Australia, tracing our migrations and evolution across eons, and continents, well, that is a remarkable piece of work. I applaud you. “ And he did.
“Well, (emboldened by this compliment, that bordered on flattery) what DO you want with me? It hasn’t been fifty years…er…has it?”
Vlad laughed again. This time floating almost to the ceiling. It took a long time for him to float back down.
“Will you please stop thinking I am going to eat you? I am not. I just want to talk. I never talk to mortals. I just eat them. Actually, I drain them, these teeth (and he bared his fangs, which made Quincy tremble and fall back not out of fear, but something much more primal- survival. Vlad drew his fangs back in) are not really good for chewing. I will never be a vegetarian.” Another laugh, and he was off floating again.
“Okay, so, in your last book, you said…..”
I won’t bore you with the rest, just rest assured that Quincy and Vlad had a long, sometimes heated discussion over Quincy’s latest book. There was much laughter (mutual laughter) some bitter sweet moments, and even a few times where either Quincy, or Vlad forgot that they were not the same species. It was the beginning of a friendship that would last…well, fifty years.
A mortal friend.(Kevin Hughes)
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Three shots before you could even say: “One!”
Vlad staggered under the impact. He went down to one knee. His face pale, ashen, like a dead man. Which he was.
He looked up, his fangs dripping some kind of clear fluid.
“Were…were…were (his voice fading to a whisper with each word) were those …silver…bullets?”
Quincy felt a pang of mercy for the fallen, and failing creature:
“Yes. Yes they were.”
At that Vlad sprung to his feet, forcing Quincy to back up, startled. Vlad’s cape flowed out, and his long arms extended towards Quincy…
when Vlad opened his hand, there they were: three perfectly formed, shiny, silver bullets.
“They didn’t work.”
Vlad loved the look on Quincy’s face, as it changed from startled, to bewildered, to baffled, to …fear. A kaleidoscope of emotions. He loved how humans could say so much without a single word. It was one of the things Vlad loved best about them. He wasn’t cruel, as vampires sometimes are, but he did make humans die slowly, because he loved the expressions, especially the ones of ecstasy when his fangs first fed on them. It was way better than any movie he had ever seen, and much more real. When humans die, there is no acting, it is the one time in their lives (as short as they are) where there is no artifice, no phoniness, no fake smiles, or worthless platitudes. No. Not at all. A human dying is a beautiful moment full of truth.
“But…but…but…”
“I know, Quincy. I know. “
At this point Vlad took up the posture of a pedantic professor, and waved an imaginary pointer at an imaginary chalkboard. In a remarkable impression of a professor who has given that same lecture to many times- his voice capturing just the right tint of boredom, but hope that at least one of the students …this semester, might make it worth while to keep talking. He pointed:
“You can use silver bullets to kill a vampire. You do not have to hit him in a vital organ. Anywhere will do. When silver touches him it is like a poison. If you hold up a cross, he will cower long enough for you to drive a stake…preferably wood, or some other once living thing, like a thigh bone, will kill him too. But…well, you have to make sure it is right through the heart- or the wound will heal. You can’t kill a vampire with garlic, but you can make him leave the room. “
Vlad laughed out loud:
“Quincy, those are all folk tales, old wives tales, and none of them work. Well, okay, the garlic can make us leave a room, but garlic in the amount you put on to protect yourself will make other humans leave the room too. Not so?”
Quincy had recovered his wits, at least the few he had left that would work for him.
“Yes. I guess that is true. To be perfectly honest with you, I never thought the garlic would work. I did think the other two methods would though.”
“See , Quincy. That is what I like about you. You are honest. Well, except for not knowing a damn thing about Vampires, that is. “
Quincy blushed. He knew what the Vampire was talking about. Before tonight, Quincy had never met a vampire. Not in real life. Or death. Quincy was known as the world’s foremost expert on them though. He had written more than 20 books on the subject, even tracing the ancestral roots of vampires back, way back, way before a “Dracula” was made up, and the image stuck. Now, everything he wrote must look very silly to a real vampire. Especially one standing in front of you holding your three silver bullets. The only ones he has. Or anyway, had.
“It was a nice tight shot group. I mean all three bullet holes could be covered by a quarter. “
Vlad pulled aside his cape to show Quincy the three neat holes in his vest. The wounds, of course, had healed immediately.
“Okay, Quincy, we need to have a chat. Are you going to try anymore tricks? Holy Water, maybe? A crucifix with Jesus’s body on it? Garlic?”
“No. No. I will take your word that those things are not going to help me.”
“Help you? (again he laughed) You mean kill me, don’t you?”
“Err…ummm…eh…yeah, well, to put it bluntly, yes.”
“See? That is why I like you. You are basically honest when faced with the truth. Stop looking so scared. I am not going to kill you. Feed off of you. Or enslave you. That is movie stuff. We only need to eat about every fifty years or so. Granted, we do need all the blood in a human body. Some Vamps do eat two, but that is just greedy. The second one is much like a third piece of pie, or cake, for you guys…not anywhere near as tasty as the first piece, and later you regret even having eaten the second piece, and the third piece makes you hate yourself. It is like that. Kind of.”
“Then what do you want with me? Do you want me to write a book about you or something?”
Vlad laughed so hard he floated into the air. It turns out, that vamps (as they call themselves) have to concentrate fairly hard to maintain contact with the earth. Kind of like the concentration on a drunk trying to walk the line, but much easier for the Vamp.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but nobody is going to beat Ann’s book about the Interview with a Vampire. Or any of her other books. She made fantasy real. Your books are boring academic tomes in comparison. And that is a good thing…because your books are interesting to me. I love the historical part of them. Some of what you dug up, I did not know. All the wacky things you thought about how we feed, how often, and how to kill us, that is all crap, as you have just discovered. But …finding us in China, South America, and Africa, and Australia, tracing our migrations and evolution across eons, and continents, well, that is a remarkable piece of work. I applaud you. “ And he did.
“Well, (emboldened by this compliment, that bordered on flattery) what DO you want with me? It hasn’t been fifty years…er…has it?”
Vlad laughed again. This time floating almost to the ceiling. It took a long time for him to float back down.
“Will you please stop thinking I am going to eat you? I am not. I just want to talk. I never talk to mortals. I just eat them. Actually, I drain them, these teeth (and he bared his fangs, which made Quincy tremble and fall back not out of fear, but something much more primal- survival. Vlad drew his fangs back in) are not really good for chewing. I will never be a vegetarian.” Another laugh, and he was off floating again.
“Okay, so, in your last book, you said…..”
I won’t bore you with the rest, just rest assured that Quincy and Vlad had a long, sometimes heated discussion over Quincy’s latest book. There was much laughter (mutual laughter) some bitter sweet moments, and even a few times where either Quincy, or Vlad forgot that they were not the same species. It was the beginning of a friendship that would last…well, fifty years.
COMMENTS (0)