The Vampires

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It was a dark and stormy night, but the girl in the alleyway was unconcerned. She had her eyes glued to her phone, scrolling through her Instagram feed. If she had looked up for a moment, she might have seen the shadows thrown against the brick walls twisting into deformed monsters that hung from fire escapes, or the thick blackness of the night that suffocated the feeble light of the streetlamps.

A swift swish, and the girl was thrown to the wall, a pale, clawed hand pinning her neck in place. She gasped for air.

“Good evening, my lady,” crooned a voice. “It will be my pleasure to invite you to dinner.”

The speaker was tall and handsome with skin so pale it was practically white. He wore a long cloak, black as night, and his eyes were red. His lip curled back to reveal a row of pointed teeth.

The girl sighed. “You’re a ‘vampire,’ aren’t you? That’s so overrated. You should work on your pickup lines.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“I said, nice try, but I’m not convinced.”

“You need convincing? You have insulted my honor, woman!” His eyes flashed, the way the girl imagined a murderer’s would just before a kill. The man released her neck and stepped into the middle of the alley. With an earsplitting screech, his body began to jerk in a series of convulsions, and before her eyes, he transformed into a vampire bat the size of a small car, his leathery wings flapping in the pungent air. A small cyclone of cigarette stubs, wet bits of newspaper, and other assorted detritus swirled around him.

“I am Sir Geoffrey of Cadenbury, First Order of the Vampires, Lord of the Damned!” he shouted. The vibrating echo of his voice made it sound like it came from the deepest pits of hell. Infernal flames burned ferociously in his animal eyes.

“Still not buying it!” yelled the girl over the shrieks of the damned and the roaring of hellfire. She picked up her phone from the muck of the alley, scrolling through her Instagram feed once more. The vampire’s eyes flashed, and in a swirl of dark matter and litter he transformed back into a human.

“What will it take to convince you?” the vampire spat. He crossed his arms, pouting.

The girl turned off her phone and faced him. “Look, Sir Geoffrey Blah Blah Blah—“

“Sir Geoffrey of Cadenbury, First Order of the Vamp—“

“Whatever. The point is I believe you’re a vampire. And that’s cool for you and all, but I don’t really care. You’re not even Edward Cullen. Vampires are so 2008.”

“I cannot believe it! You lie!” Sir Geoffrey paced back and forth in the alleyway. “I cannot believe it. Vampires are always in vogue. That’s how it’s been for the past millennia. Nothing changes that quickly.”

“Well you better believe it. If anything, the concept of being a vampire is comical at this point.”

Sir Geoffrey seethed with rage. “You speak blasphemous words, mortal. You shall appear before the Clan at once!” With an expression similar to the one he wore before he turned into the freakish hell-bat, the vampire seized the girl by the wrist and dragged her off into the night.

By the time they had reached the location of the Clan, Sir Geoffrey was entirely fed up with his captive. Walking was such a slow mode of transportation, and, besides, most of the women that he captured were seduced, terrified, bitten, or dead at this point. This one was annoyingly unimpressed by his vampire state and wouldn’t stop chattering about “Incense-grams,” whatever that meant.

Upon reaching the Clan, the girl stopped and refused to move another step. “Are you serious? This is the location of the fabled vampire headquarters?”

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