Vampire Story

Vampire Story

A Story by Infamous Real

A vampire story written in three different Genres.

Vampire Story
Disclaimer: This story was written in response of a writing challenge.  The challenge was to create a scene that centers around an escape from an uncomfortable situation. The situation can be anything from a prison, an elaborate death trap, or even a lame dinner party.  The catch is that I had to choose three genres and write my chosen scene in each genre (i.e. Romance, Comedy, Horror, Sci-fi, Fantasy, Western... etc). I could change elements of the narrative to fit the other genres but characters and plot must remain generally the same.

Genre: Horror
The cold night air crept in through the open patio door filling the room with a chill like the grave. Gannett slipped over to the door and peer out for just a moment to see the empty garden’s below the patio railings. Silence had sat in over the shrubs as the newly forming frost of the night shunned the flowers from the sky. Gannett wondered how the door had come open in the first place. Surely the maid would not have left it open. She closed the rood then turned the key on the bolt. The click from the bolt resonated through the room like a thunder clap. The sound subsided within an instant and once again the defining silence filled the room. Gannett paused and leaned again the door frame.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Gannett whispered to herself. She could feel her own heart beating within her chest like a pair of tribal war drums. “That old fortuneteller was telling me those things just to scare me. That’s all.” Gannett tried her best to muster her courage but her words fell dead in the air.
The moon was shrouded in clouds like a veiled widow at her lover’s funeral. Yet just enough light stole its way into the room for Gannett to find the table next to her bed. She placed her fingers on the glass oil lamp. It was cold. She lifted the glass off the top then reached for the matchbox next to the black silhouette picture of her fiancé, Martin. She struck a match on the side of the box. Her fingers were trembling. The lamp light made little impact on the darkness of the room but it was enough to afford Gannett a little comfort. She reached for the letter sitting next to the lamp. It was written in Martin’s hand writing but unlike his other letter this one was erratic. It wasn’t his normal neat scroll but scratchy as if he was penning this in a hurry. Gannett picked up the letter and looked at the words scrawled at the bottom in red ink:
“Beware of the night.”
What did Martin mean? Gannett tried to make sense of the letter but it all appeared to be nonsense. She had warned Martin not to go on that trip to East but he wouldn’t listen. Now it had been months since Martin’s last letter. Then this letter suddenly shows up? What was going on?
“Hello, my darling?” A deep silky voice melted into the room like boiling chocolate.
“Martin?” Gannett shot her gaze up from the letter to the patio door. It was open. Gannett raised her hands to her face as she saw the shadow of a man standing in the door frame. His features were hidden from view by the moonlight that eclipsed his back. Gannett tried to scream but nothing came out of her mouth. Her voice was gone.
“You are looking ravishing this evening.” The shadow took one step across the. He seemed to just float across the room rather then walk and the cold of the night was nothing to the chill that surrounded the aura of this shade.
“Who are you?” Gannett whispered. Her voice was raspy and her throat was dry. She wanted so much to flee but something had hold of her like the binding of prison chains. Some unearthly power was holding her in place.
The shadow stepped into the lamp light. It was Martin’s face but something was wrong. It was so pale and lifeless like that of a corpse in a coffin. The figure raised his hand in the air and Gannett felt something and dozen hands gently lifting her onto the bed. Was she moving on her own or was something moving her?
“Soon,” Martin said, “we shall be together forever my love.”
Martin leaned over her placing his hand softly under her head. He bent down. Gannett stared into his eyes. They were like two deep poles of oil surrounded by a ring of red fire. Sweat beads began to sprouting on her forehead but her body was still unresponsive. Martin’s mouth open wide and two sharp white teeth come protruding out of the black void. He moved for her neck.
A shot rang out in the silence and the bullet ripped into Martin’s chest throwing him off Gannett and into a dark corner of the room.
“I expel you Nosferatu!” Light from the gas lamps shone in through the open doorway to the hallway. The silhouette of a man in a captain’s jacket stood in the doorway holding a pistol high in the air. Embers from the flintlock wafted in the air for but a moment before dissipating into the darkness.
“Inquisitor Anthony Heavensong,” Martin screamed as he propped himself on his knees. Black blood was staining Martin’s white shirt as he grabbed at the wound. “You can try and save the girl all you want but she will be mine.”
“Not if I send you back to hell first, demon.”

Genre Switch: Teen Drama
Gean stood looking out her bedroom window at the sea of fog drifting over the backyard. A tire swing hung lifeless from the giant oak planted by her grandfather. She held up the note once again to her eyes, reading the words, “I have something to show you, tonight.”
What could Martin possibly have to show me? She thought to herself.
Gean’s mind wandered back to earlier in the day when Martin just casually strolled into the high school cafeteria. His skin was pale as snow and his hair as black as the night. The way he looked at her from across the room was like an animal stalking it’s pray. It was frightful yet somehow also so ataractic. Her heart beat faster as the image of Martin flooded into her mind.
Just then there was a tap at the window. Gean looked down into the backyard. It was Martin standing amongst the sea of fog like a solemn lighthouse. He held a small pebble in his hand and was tossing it up into the air before catching it again.
Jean opened the window her heart skipping a beat and begging her to hurry.
“Hey there,” Martin said, “can I come up?”
“You know,” Gean leaned on the window sill with her elbows, “my grandmother warned me about boys like you.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah,” Gean smiled, “she said I should beware of boys in the night.”
“Maybe she’s right.”
“Maybe.” Gean twirled her finger through her hair. Martin just kept staring at her with a half smile. She felt powerless, caught in his deep dark eyes.
“So can I come up?”
Gean turned away from the window and back towards her bed. She could hear the wrestle of leaves as Martin scaled the ivy covered lattice below her window. A single leg, wrapped in a tight pair of jeans, appeared the through the window first. Then came a tight white t-shirt followed by Martin’s night black hair. As he climbed through he left his gaze to meet hers. Gean’s heart was now pounding so fast the she felt as if she was going to faint.
“Gean,” Martin said rising to his full height, “there’s something I need to show you.”
“What is it?”
“But,” Martin hesitated and turned his head to the floor, “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“Afraid? Why would I be afraid of you?”
Gean moved closer to Martin and placed her finger under his chin. He lifted his eyes to meet her. She stared into the black abyss of his eyes and she felt a cold loneliness, which was not her own but seemed to be radiating from Martin. He placed his hand at her neck but held it within an inch of touching. He tilted forward. She closed her eyes.
A loud cry came from the backyard, “GEAN!”
The two backed away abruptly. The loud shout had wakened Gean as if from a sleep but she was none too happy about the interruption. She stormed to the window and looked out at the backyard. The figure of another boy, dressed in a black t-shirt with a silver cross in the middle was the one who was yelling up at her.
“What do you want, Anthony?” She hollered down.
“I’ve come to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
“About Martin.”
“What about Martin?”
“Well,” Anthony seemed to fumble with his words, “He’s no good for you.”
“And who made you judge over my life?”
Anthony hung his head an embarrassment then raised it again. This time he spoke softer and Gean didn’t catch his words.
“What did you say?”
Anthony yelled back, “I care about you, okay?”
Gean staggered back for a moment stunned as if she had been pierced through the heart with a fetal gunshot. She never knew Anthony felt this way before. Her head began to spin. Why was this happening?

Genre: Disney-Channel-Style-Teen-Sitcom
Gean walked across the oddly large floor for a room to her pink plushy couch and threw herself down on the pillows.
“Could this day possibly suck anymore?” Gean sighed.
“Did I hear someone say suck?” Said A high-pitched voice from the rafters overtop of the spacious yet hip attic room. A small brown bat swopped down awkwardly as if held by an invisible string. There was a sudden poof of purple smoke as the bat vanished and Martin appeared in the middle of the room with his arms held out like wings.
“Oh, hi Martin.”
“Someone sure looks like a Grumpy-Gus. You need to turn the frown into a smile.” Martin pranced over to the couch and used both his fingers to push up Gean’s checks so that it looked like a smile. “Like this.”
“I’m not in the mood Martin.”
“What in hell could possibly be the matter that’s got you so down?”
“It’s Grandmother.” Gean got up from the couch and passed around the room, “You know how she doesn’t approve of vampires. She’s always warning me about how dangerous they are.”
“Well, we’ll just keep it a secret like we always have.”
Just then there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Gean shouted.
“It’s me, Anthony.”
“Oh, no.” Gean shot around to Martin. “It’s Anthony.”
“Not the vampire hunter!” Martin placed his knuckles up to his mouth. “Why should I do?”
“Turn back into a bat.”
“I can’t, I used up all my poofing powers for one day.”
“Quick hid.”
Martin scrambled across the room tripping over a pillow left on the floor, stumbled into a lamp stand and knocked over a bead covered lamp. Gean placed her finger to her mouth to signal to Martin to be quite.
“What was that?” Anthony said from the other side of the door.
Gean opened the door just enough to stick her head out into the hall.
“It was just my cat.”
There was another loud crash.
“Your cat?” Anthony tried to see around Gean.
“Yes, he’s very clumsy; probably fell out the window again. Darn cat.”
Anthony pushed past Gean and entered into the room. He stomped around looking here and there with an inquisitive expression about his face. Gean bit her lip as she too looked around for Martin while simultaneously trying to make sure that Anthony did not see her looking. She spotted Martin standing in the corner of the room with the bead lampshade over his head.
“Where is he?” Anthony said turning to Gean.
“Where’s who?”
“That vampire. I know he’s around here somewhere. My vampire-tracking radar said-so.”
Anthony held out a grey box with a verity of wires and light on the side. A little green arrow was pointing at the lampshade covered Martin but Anthony failed to notice.
“Aw, I think this thing is busted.”
“You know Anthony,” Gean crossed her arms trying to stand between Anthony and the lampshade covered Martin. “I think you’re taking this vampire obsession just a little too far.”
“I am not, there really are vampires.”
“That’s what you said about the unicorns.”
“Yes, well I still think unicorns are real. They just shaved their horns to look more like ponies.”
“And what about the time you thought there was a werewolf in the bathroom.”
“How was I supposed to know that the howling was due to Principle Spalling eating too much cheese?”
“That man does love his cheese.”
Just then Martin’s device started beeping. “Ah, ha!” He shouted. “There is a vampire around here. Or a frozen yogurt. Either would be good right now.”

© 2010 Infamous Real

Author's Note

Infamous Real
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Added on July 14, 2010
Last Updated on July 14, 2010


Infamous Real
Infamous Real

Columbia, MD

Combine humor with imagination and what do you get? How about one twisted mind. I am a firm believer that God has a sense of humor and I have proof. After all, he put me on this earth didn't He? A.. more..