DAWN OF THE SEXY VAMPIRE [OR IN EUROPE: SEX BLOOD MAGICIANS 2]

The first utterly thrilling instalment is HERE!

PART 2! That is to say, the next bit!

Tarquin Farquar could smell blood on the wind - he was a vampire hunter, and his nose was finely attuned to the smell of vampire trumps, because vampire trumps tended to smell like blood, because they drank a lot of blood, because they were vampires!

"Six years now have I been hunting these diabolical creatures," he mused to himself in a stern and badly-accented voice. Also, his sentence construction was a little weird. "Their rear exhalations make my nose burn, and my anger stir!" he declared in the exact same voice as he'd just used for that previous sentence. "When will it end, God? When will your holy crusade finally come to an end?"

"Not yet," God said. His voice always reminded Tarquin of Barry Manilow. "I made a terrible mistake putting over-sexed demons on the Earth, and I made an even terribler mistake putting those demons in sexy young bodies."

"But in your defence," Tarquin quickly interrupted, "you had no idea that, millions of years after you invented humans, some of them would get all funny in the pants about doing rude things with those sexy demons."

"That's true," God said. Although Tarquin couldn't see Him, he could easily imagine God stroking His beard thoughtfully. "Anyway," God continued, "I thought vampires might be a good way to keep ape men under control, by, you know, eating them. I should have just made more dinosaurs."

"Ape men and dinosaurs didn't exist at the same time, my Lord."

"Oh yes, that's right, they didn't."

"In fact, neither of them existed anyway, because you made Adam and Eve, and skipped right past all that other nonsense about an Ice Age and mammoths and all that."

"Very true. Sometimes I read books about them, and I think "they sound pretty cool; why didn't *I* think of that?'"

"What would your favourite dinosaur be?" Tarquin asked.

"Well, 't-rex' is the obvious answer, but in all honesty, I probably would have to say MechaGodzilla. All dinosaurs should be able to fire rockets."

"I wish I could fire rockets," Tarquin grumbled. "Anti-vampire rockets. From my fists."

"Patience, my friend," God intoned. "Your test comes from dealing with vampires with the gifts I gave you. That is, a finely-tuned nose and a deep, seething hatred towards ethnic minorities. Like most Christians."

Tarquin and God shared a chuckle at this obvious joke, although deep down they both knew they were laughing to cover the pain of miserable childhoods.

"I enjoy our talks, my Lord," Tarquin said, "but verily I must away, to do battle with the one they call 'Chris'."

"Oh yes, you've been hunting him for some time now, haven't you?"

"Ever since he exploded my niece, Sheila, I have been hunting him for some time now. Ever since he exploded her, in fact. That's how long I've been hunting him."

A beam of pure light shone over Tarquin, and God's dulcet tones said: "Good luck, Tarquin! I'm wishing you luck, and not in any kind of foreboding, ominous way, but because I genuinely like you and wish you luck in defeating the vampire called Chris, and maybe other vampires too, who knows? Not me! I don't know anything! Not really, anyway. I'm so out of touch with the world nowadays. I don't even know what an 'app' is, or why traffic wardens don't carry guns. Life is full of mysteries, and I, perhaps, am the greatest one. I sometimes wonder 'Who created me?' and then I start thinking back to my childhood, which wasn't very happy. And then I think, 'how could I have had a childhood if I don't have parents?' but maybe I was my own parents? So I must have had sex with myself, and that's a very disturbing thought. Oh golly, listen to me, this all a bit heavy for a pre-hunt pep talk. I'm sorry Tarquin. Tarquin?"

But Tarquin Farquar had already left on his perilous adventure. By the way, it was nighttime.

The moon was bright and plump, like a smart, fat girl at a school dance who's hopeful the star of the school football team will finally notice her. It's hard not to notice a fat girl, though, especially when she's squeezed into a corset and made to look like a fat girl's idea of a vixen. But much like the fat girl, the moon wouldn't stick around for long because it had a date with the horizon, whereas the fat girl didn't have a date with the horizon, but a noose in her grandparents' attic. She had no intention of hanging herself; she had a sick fixation on knots and liked to touch rope in dirty places, and the dirtiest place she knew was her grandparents' attic.

In any case, Tarquin knew he didn't have much time left to find Chris - every time he neared his quarry, his quarry didn't near him - he moved further away! His quarry, that is! Because his quarry was Chris, and Chris was...a vampire! But tonight...tonight he'd get him! "I'll get him, tonight!" Tarquin thought aloud (or: said). It was time to put his plan into action!

Tarquin opened his bumbag and withdrew a tightly-rolled tube of paper. He unfurled it to reveal an erotic poster of his niece, Sheila. Since her mother - Tarquin's sister - was a hopeless drunk, she had to earn money to pay bills, etc, and the easiest way was to pose for rude pictures, which then got blown up to A1 size so horny teenagers could put her on their wall. "I wish Chris hadn't blown you up," Tarquin sighed. His tears were held at bay by the sight of his niece's tits. If she'd not died, he could have stolen her away to his home country, where it was legal (and in fact, built in to the local law) for men to marry and sex up their nieces. Somewhere deep inside Tarquin, he knew this was his way of perpetuating the cycle of despair relevant to his family and bloodline, and that he was also technically an ethnic minority, so had God been laughing at him earlier...?

"TARQUIN FARQUAR!!!"

The vampire hunter started from his reverie - Chris had appeared, and even now floated in mid-air as if suspended by invisible wires or perhaps Hollywood CGI trickery. But this wasn't Hollywood, this was real life! The vampire wore a Terrorvision t-shirt, and appeared to have put on weight. But Tarquin had to secretly admit the monster looked good in a cloak.

"Vampire!" Tarquin shouted. "You have fallen into my trap!"

"I have't fallen anywhere," Chris said. "I'm flying, you idiot. And I didn't realise this was a poster, because my night-vision only picks up tits, whatever medium they may happen to be in."

"So you admit you were fooled by my decepticon!"

"Deception?"

"That as well!"

"Maybe. Also, I've secretly been following you because I heard you were trying to kill me, and wanted to see how dangerous you are. You've killed quite a few vampires, haven't you? And werewolves. And Creatures From The Black Lagoons."

"I'm working my way through the types of classic movie monsters, so that I am more relevant in this crazy world of high-tech pop culture references and gimmicks. No one wants to hear the exploits of a bog-standard vampire hunter. They want to know that he can also deal with other monsters!"

"Are you basing this assumption of a particular movie or book or something?" Chris asked, cautiously.

"Probably. Whatever, the time has come for you to say goodnight to the night, foul sexy demon! You have had sex with, and drank blood from, your last desperate housewife and/or emo teenager and/or fake goth!"

"I did just work my way through an entire college campus, followed by a book club. The ladies were reading Interview With a Vampire, which might have been funny if we were in 1995 or something, and people gave a shit about that sort of thing any more."

"Silence!" Tarquin roared, yet managed to modulate his voice so that he didn't say it in capital letters. "Eat stake, demon!"

"Would you believe I'm a vegetarian?" Chris said, and they both shared a final, jovial laugh. But the laughter only served to hide the fact that they'd both had miserable childhoods, and in fact grew up together, and in another fact, this revealed that what Chris had said in the previous instalment about being 317 years old, was in fact, a lie! He was only a bit older than Tarquin!

Tarquin, unaware of all of this, levelled his crossbow at Chris. "Let's see if you're faster than a speeding bullet!"

"That makes absolutely no sense in this context," Chris said.

POW! the crossbow said, in a voice like thunder!

Chris might have been able to fly away from the bolt by himself, but as it happens, he had help evading it - from GOD!

A beam of light sliced through the night sky and held the crossbow bolt in mid-air. "My Lord!" Tarquin shouted. "What are you playing at?!"

"I'm sorry for this decepticon," God said. "But I have to admit I was using you all along to find Chris. You see, I can't see vampires, and certain other demons like chatshow hosts, because the Devil has put his mark upon them. So, even though you didn't hear me wishing you luck earlier, I was being a little bit ironic, because I knew this twist was coming from the outset."

"I don't understand any of this," Tarquin and Chris said in eerie unison.

"The sun is on its way," God explained. "But I have no desire to destroy Chris. Instead, I figured out that if I bathe a vampire in holy light the moment the sun's rays hit one, they get converted into a good guy. Well, maybe not entirely good, but they'll be more liable to work for me to help me destroy the rest of the sexy monsters loose upon the world."

"But...but that's what *I* do!" Tarquin cried.

"Chris will keep all his vampire powers, so make a more effective hunter," God said. "You know, you two could work together. I bet that'd be pretty cool. And I might even be able to sell the rights to a television network."

"Never!" Tarquin screamed. "He killed my niece with sex! He is my enemy! And now, you, God, are my enemy, for forsaking me!"

"Don't be daft, Tarquin. You two grew up in the same town, anyway. So you're almost like brothers, in a way. My plan makes more sense than anything else you might have witnessed before."

"I will not listen to this madness!" Tarquin roared.

"Your niece raped me, Tarquin," Chris said. "If you'd read my exploits online you'd know that."

"I don't know how to use the internet!" Tarquin sobbed. "And reminding me of that particular inadequacy makes this officially the worst day ever!"

"That's right, it IS daytime! Or rather, dawn." God bathed Chris in holy light before the vampire could burst into flames, or whatever it is he's supposed to do. "Now you are my holy vampire warrior!" God declared.

"I feel great!" Chris said. "But I could really go for a pint...of real ale!"

God and Chris laughed. "You thought I was going to say 'blood', didn't you, God?"

"Yeah, I did!"

"Well I didn't!"

"I hate you both!" Tarquin flung himself melodramatically from the rooftop. "I would rather die than live in a  world ruled by a God as ridiculous as you!" is what he planned to say, but his fear of heights kicked in as he plummeted towards the ground, and all he could say was "AAAIIIEEE!" even though, technically, the closer he got to the ground the less his fear of heights should have bothered him.

Both God and Chris flinched as Tarquin Farquar hit the pavement with a meaty splat. "Hmmm," God mused. "Tarquin always liked the theatre, and *I* always said one day he'd make an impact on Broadway."

"That would be pretty funny if we were in New York, rather than wherever-this-is," Chris said.

Both sighed at the thought of what might have been, and rode off into the sunrise, towards new and sexciting adventures.

Meanwhile, Tarquin woke up in Hell. "SATAN!" he shouted.

"What?" The Devil appeared in a purple and green dressing gown. "I was getting ready for bed. Who're you?"

"Tarquin Farquar. I used to be a monster hunter, but just now God double-crossed me, sort of, and I'm mad at him. So I committed suicide to meet you and make you a deal."

"I'm listening."

Tarquin marvelled at how Satan's voice sounded like Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins, but he didn't comment. Instead, he said, "Give me the powers of all the monsters I've killed and send me back up to Earth."

"Why should I do that?"

"God can't see any of the sexy demons up there, so if you give me their powers he won't be able to see me. Then, I can sneak up on him and KILL HIM!"

"Kill God?!" The Devil spluttered, spraying coffee everywhere. Oh yeah, when he first appeared he was also drinking coffee. Yeah, before bedtime!

"Do we have a deal?" Tarquin held a hand out.

"Why not?" Satan said, and shook Tarquin's hand. "This ought to be good for a giggle, cor blimey lord love a duck!"

THE END?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!???!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??????????????????????????????

UNLIKELY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Dedicated to the memories of Colin Hall-Williams, Sarah Hall-Williams, and Chris Heald. They're not dead, I just like thinking about them.

NIGHT OF THE SEXY VAMPIRE

Patient: I keep seeing vampires with fangs dripping blood.

Doctor: Have you seen a psychiatrist?

Patient: No, just vampires.

Sheila looked mournfully out of her bedroom window at the full moon. It was night time. The sky was very dark, apart from the moon, which was full and in it (the sky). And quite bright. Because it was the moon. Somewhere, Sheila didn’t know where because she wasn’t very good at geography, a dog howled, possibly at the moon. A soft breeze flowed sensuously and not a little sexily through her open window and caressed her seventeen-year-old breasts. They were large for her age. Sheila wasn’t wearing a bra, or indeed a blouse, because she was waiting for a visitor…a nocturnal visitor! And having her magnificent tits out was the best way to get his attention, like an erotic Bat Signal.

And then…there! Up in the sky! Blasting through the dark clouds like a human-shaped Red Arrow came her…vampire lover! He could fly because he was a vampire! And had magical sexy powers powered by blood and sex! Sheila thought he was the most magical, sexiest man she had ever known, and she had known many men in the last year. Intimately, that is, because she liked to have sex. As her mother often told her: “You’re a young woman now, Sheila, not a girl, and life is going to open its doors for you the moment you learn to open your legs.”

Sheila’s mother was a broken woman, whose former career as an underwear model had hit the skids the moment she got pregnant. Now, she lived vicariously through her daughter, which was amusing in its own way as Sheila’s mother had found religion, or more accurately: God. At the bottom of a bottle. She was a drunk, and Sheila hated her for it. But, if it meant her mother was too toasted to realise she was now erotically linked with a man three hundred times her age, then that was okay.

“Oh!” she sighed mournfully, as Chris, the sexy vampire, levitated down from the Heavens. He wore a classy black cloak and fashionably ripped jeans. Sheila found his beard and Alestorm t-shirt highly arousing as she secretly liked beards and pirate metal bands.

“I have answered your siren call,” Chris intoned. His eyes were like Malteasers, painted black and stuck in his eyeballs.

“Oh Chris,” she sighed. “I want you to take me.”

Chris held a pale hand to his rugged face and turned everso-slightly away from Sheila. “You know that I cannot violate your flesh, without the risk of either killing you or making you as I am…a vampire!”

“Make me like you,” she begged. “When I kiss you it’s like fireworks go off in my knickers. Only you can put that flame out!”

“I would not be able to live with myself were I to turn you, Sheila.” He turned away a little bit more as he artfully hid a lone tear that stealthily crawled its way from the corner of his left eye. He was having a memory. A memory flashback! His last girlfriend, Amelia, had been younger than Sheila, but no less voluptuous. He had turned her into what he was…a vampire! She had survived the transformation, and they even had a baby together, but she died in childbirth, and the baby had a genetic disorder common to babies born of mixed parents – it had the body of a bat and the head of a baby, but both were the proportions they should be, making it too heavy to fly, since the baby head part was pretty big, and the bat body was pretty small. In fact, when it tried to move it ended up pushing its forehead along the floor as it dragged itself forwards by its puny wings. It was a terrible, sorry, and terrible sight, and Chris had been only too happy to kill it. But now he felt sad whenever he thought about killing it, because it might have grown up to be a viable financial commodity that he could have toured as a sideshow freak. Chris wasn’t good with money, and it was this memory of his financial shortcomings that caused the aforementioned tear to ooze gothily from his eye.

“We do this same old song and dance almost every night!” she cried, but softly. Her breasts heaved, and Chris ogled them with his vampire eyes. Yes! He was a vampire! “And at school you ignore me!”

“If anyone were to know we are inexplicably linked soulmates, my enemies would use you against me. I have to go to school because I get education benefits from the council, and I need that money to afford cool stuff like this cloak. Plus it gives me a good cover story for not being a vampire. All I have to do is avoid direct sunlight, otherwise you know the effect reveals that I am…a vampire!”

“Yes, I remember. Your hair stands on end and you turn bright pink.”

“No. I explode.”

“Oh yes that’s right.”

“Luckily, England has terrible weather so I can walk freely during the day. I just made a joke about this country’s weather, Sheila.”

She laughed, and her breasts heaved. Chris ogled them even more with his eyes, which were still the eyes of a vampire, because he was still a vampire!

“Invite me in if you wish,” he said. “But I can only kiss you and touch you up.”

“Works for me,” she said. She moved from the window sill so Chris could float elegantly into her room.

He grimaced at the posters of Fallout Boy and Panic At The Disco that adorned her walls. “Music of my youth was far superior to this,” he said. “I wish you would consider listening to some.”

“You’re three hundred times my age,” she said. “All the music from your youth is boring and like really old-fashioned.”

“Sheila. I’m 317 years old. That’s not three hundred times your age.”

She pulled a confused face, which Chris found deeply sexy because he secretly liked stupid girls.

“Can I get you a drink?” she asked. “When my mum passes out I bleed her a bit.”

“So that’s why the blood you give me makes me feel tipsy. Yeah, I’ll have some of that.”

Sheila pulled a special tankard from beneath her bed, followed by a bottle of dark liquid. It was blood! She poured the dark liquid, which was her mother’s blood, into the tankard, and handed it to Chris. He greedily knocked it back.

“Tastes like the good stuff I get in Whitby!” he exclaimed.

She poured him another drink, and another. Soon, he was feeling woozy. More woozy than the alcohol-laced blood usually made him feel.

“I feel woozy,” he said. “More woozy than the alcohol-laced blood usually makes me feel.”

“Rest your head,” she said, gently helping him down onto her bed.

“I feel woozy,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed, gently taking his clothes off. “I put Rohypnol in the blood.”

“But it shouldn’t affect me this quickly,” he said. “I used it on a girl once and had to wait 30 minutes until it kicked in.”

“I added some of my mum’s sleeping pills to the mix too,” Sheila said.

“Ah,” Chris nodded. Slowly, his eyes closed. Soon, he was asleep.

“Now it’s time for the good stuff,” Sheila said, doing something rude to his junk. She began to touch his willy, is what she did. She vigorously worked her own brand of sexy magic until Chris’s vampire willy was ready for her.

She put his willy in her, and started to have sex with his sleeping body. It was wonderful, and better than any sex she had ever had. It felt like someone had rammed a stick of dynamite up her chuff and lit the fuse in her brain. The flame was burning its way down and through her teenage body. She started to say erotic things like “Oh yes” and “More, more” and “That feels nice, Chris, oh yeah that’s nice”. She didn’t swear though, because she felt there was no need for that sort of thing.

A good amount of time later, let’s say five minutes later, Sheila felt Chris climax his vampire goodness into her, and she exploded with joy. Literally exploded with joy. Chris had not been lying because he was really a frigid vampire. He had been telling the truth! Unprotected sex with a vampire when you’re not a vampire can kill you! Or at the very least give you a bad disease! Unfortunately, Sheila was not alive to learn this valuable lesson, because she was exploded and dead, all over her Fallout Boy posters, and all over Chris.

He woke up a bit later to find Sheila’s groin resting on his lap, and the rest of her spraypainted on the walls. It was a good thing he was a vampire and not nauseated by the sight of blood, because he might have felt like being sick, or even…fainted! Resisting the temptation to lick her up, he put his clothes on and flew out the window. His keen vampire vision picked out Deidre at number 45 flashing her tits to signal him and he swooped down towards her open bedroom window.

THE END! OR IS IT?

Dedicated to Colin Hall-Williams, who dared me to write terrible teen vampire fiction, and Chris Heald, for following my dare of writing 'I HEART RAPISTS' in a Twitter post. Salut, mon amis!