Published by
Mojocastle Press, LLC
Price, Utah
This book is a work of
fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead,
is completely coincidental.
A Vampire Story
ISBN: Free Story(Not for
resale)
Copyright ă 2007 Penny Ash
Cover Art Copyright @ 2007 Penny Ash
All rights reserved.
Excluding legitimate review sites and review
publications, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part
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Copying, scanning, uploading, selling and
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prosecuted.
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Also By Penny Ash:
It was a dark and stormy night--yes, I know, but whose
story is this anyway?--I stood on the battlement of the highest turret of the
castle, my cape billowing out behind me in the wind. Lightning flashed and
thunder crashed; a storm began to gather. A bolt of lightning hit the tower a
few feet away and I began to get the idea it might not be the brightest thing
in the world to keep standing out here. One good zap and I’d be so much ash on
the wind.
Regally I pulled my cape
around me with a flourish and turned to go inside. The fabric, a good quality
boiled wool herringbone weave, wrapped tightly around my ankles, speeding up my
progress to the bottom of the battlement stairs considerably. I didn’t even
have time to turn into a bat. Damn. And ouch.
Lying there wrapped up like
a mummy, I heard a snicker and looked up to see my not so faithful
sidekick--thank you so much, powers of darkness, my night is complete
now--leaning in the doorway.
“Sunrise is in four
minutes, Master,” he said, turning to walk back into the castle.
What a weenie. I mean, is
it too much to ask he should help me out and untangle my feet? Good help is so
hard to find these days.
I managed to get my feet
untangled at last and made it to the door, hopping on one foot while I tried to
keep an eye on the sky that was slowly turning pink. I reached for the doorknob
and turned.
Locked.
Figures.
I took a deep breath and
prepared to transform myself into smoke.
The lock mechanism tickled
as I flowed through it. Materializing on the other side of the door, I had only
seconds to reach my coffin before the first rays of sunlight seared through the
windows. Not sparing a thought--well, okay, maybe just a teeny one--for my
Armani tuxedo lying in a heap on the other side of the door--no, I turn to
smoke, the clothes stay the same, sorry to burst your bubble like that--I
dashed for the dark safety of the casket, slamming the lid just barely in time.
I woke hungry. Sitting up,
I pushed the lid back and stretched, yawning. Another night, another dollar. I
climbed out of bed--what, you thought I’d call it something poetic?--and went
to the armoire to pick out my tuxedo for the night.
Now to some, my wardrobe
might be considered somewhat limited, but I took my cue from ZZ Top. As they
say, all the girls are crazy about a sharp dressed man. And believe me, the
girls are the only thing that makes this neverending night bearable. Dinner and
entertainment all in one neat little package; you can’t beat it for
convenience.
Straightening my black
tie--not reflecting in mirrors really bites, especially when you possibly had a
little dinner stuck in your teeth--and smoothing back my freshly styled hair, I
walked toward the door. A quick adjustment to my white linen French
cuffs--$19.95 including free shipping from the Men’s Store online pre-Halloween
sale catalog--a deep breath, and showtime. I stepped through the appropriately
creaking door to greet the first batch of tourists, a huge smile advantageously
showing my teeth.
Oh. Joy. Another group of Buffy
wannabes and adenoidal geeks. I began my monolog on the history of the
castle--yeah, all the usual boring stuff, the family curse and the whole bit.
The tourists loved it.
“Gut efenink,” I said
suavely. “Velcome to Castle Blut. I am Count Vladimir Wassily, your host for
the efenink.”
“Wassily? Where’s Dracula,
man? I want my money back, we been gypped!” said a skinny boy in the back of
the crowd.
I shuddered distastefully.
There was one in every crowd, a know-it-all twerp who would probably wet himself
if I allowed the walking smorgasbord called a tour group see my true
magnificence.
“Vell, ve cannot all be
Dracula,” I said smoothly.
“Boy, you got that right,”
the boy laughed.
“Now, if ve may continue
the tour?” A movement caught my eye and I noticed my assistant, Bob, lurking in
the shadows. He was crawling around on his hands and knees looking for
bugs--obviously, Bob has issues--and not having much luck.
“As it is now my break
time, I will be turning you over to my assistant, Bob.” I really needed to get
out of there for a quick bite. Bob looked up, startled, and glared at me.
Payback is a bitch. I grinned at him as I swept regally by.
When I was sure the tour
group was out of sight, I quickly changed to my bat form and launched myself
into the night. It was time to find some breakfast.
I arrived back at the
castle late--so what are they going to do, fire me?--Bob was finishing up the
tour with a tale of blood and mayhem. Several of the group looked a little
green. Bob may be a total butt as an assistant, but he can sure tell a story.
Geek Boy looked as if he was about to lose it; it was time to step in.
“Ah, I see a vonderful time
vas hat by all, thank you for comink and good night,” I said, smoothly stepping
in and dismissing Bob.
And that was when I saw
her. I don’t know how I missed her in my initial perusal of the tour group. She
had a gothic beauty I had rarely seen. Her coal-black hair sent a shiver
through me--I have a thing for dark hair, even dyed hair, oh and for Cheese
Whiz too, but that’s another story--and I began to take her over with my
superior mental powers. Short, shiny black dress, army boots, oh, yeah, she
would make a nice bit of dessert after the tour left. I watched as the tourists
filed out, willing her to stay behind.
I spoke to her in a low
hypnotic voice, subtly suggesting she was under my control and would do
anything for me.
“You will be happy to come
with me,” I murmured softly.
“Yes, Master,” she intoned
back.
“You will...” I began.
Suddenly I heard an odd sound, like a held-in sneeze.
She grinned, unable to hold
it in anymore and snorted, shaking, trying to keep it in, finally giving up and
dissolving into laughter. She snickered and snorted, chortled, chuckled, and
giggled.
I stood there in shock. She
was laughing at me--and if that doesn’t kill the old ego and wilt old
Willy--she wasn’t hypnotized or under control at all.
Everything I’d used for
hundreds of years had just completely and totally failed. Well, damn. So much
for seduction. I gave up. With an exasperated sigh of frustration, I pulled her
into my arms and began to sink my teeth into her neck. Maybe I could get laid
tomorrow night; the Halloween season was always good for tourists.
Suddenly I felt something
hot. Whoa! Dang! Ow, dammit, that’s hot! What the... I looked down and saw the
wet spot on my pants. It smoked slightly. I looked back up at the girl. She had
a large cross in one hand and a long string of garlic cloves in the other. I
cringed and backed up slowly. Wonderful. Well, now I knew why my mental powers
didn’t work.
The holy water was eating a
hole in my second-best Armani tux. And where the heck had she hidden that
garlic? Freakin’ thing was a good three feet long and she just didn’t have
anywhere to hide something that size in that tiny black vinyl mini-dress.
“What do you think you’re
doing?” I hollered.
“Your reign of terror is
over, vampire, it’s our turn now!” the girl shrieked wildly.
“Bob!” I yelled
desperately.
The girl whipped a large
stake out of the miracle mini-dress.
No answer.
Oh, for crying out loud. I
searched for Bob. Yep, you guessed it; he was over in a corner chasing down a
cockroach. Geez.
The girl raised the stake
over her head and attacked. I sidestepped her lunge and tried to avoid the
garlic.
“Uh, you want to tell me what
this is about?” I dodged another lunge.
“As if you didn’t know, you
evil spawn of Hell!” she gasped, beginning to drool.
“But...” I gasped, jumping
out of the way once more. And what was all this spawn of Hell crap? I’m telling
you, we need a lobby group or something, ban the anti-vampire rhetoric.
She took another swipe at
me.
“What did I ever do to
you?” I asked.
“You bit my mom!” She threw
the garlic at me.
“Your mom? I never! Dang!”
I tripped on the garlic.
“You did too!” she
screamed, pouncing on me.
“When? I deny everything!” I grabbed her wrist, trying to hol