There'd been a number of exsanguinated cows at a farm outside of Rhy'Din, and their owner hired me to look into it. A vampire, obviously, but knowing that didn't help stop it from happening. I don't normally take cases that amount to guard duty, but I'd lost what I'd earned on the Chocula Stamp case betting on the squirrel races.
At least I learned that just because a squirrel is named "Zippy" doesn't mean he's fast.
I don't normally have to go up against vampires, so I went out to pick up some supplies before the sun went down. By the time I headed to M'Donnal's farm, I was loaded for bear. A bandoleer of stakes, a cross hanging from a string of garlic 'round my neck, and a squirt gun filled with holy water, in addition to my usual handgun (freshly blessed by Father Muther) and the holy sword I'd taken off a drunken girl scout a few years back. I wasn't playing any games; if I'd thought he'd do it, I'd have tried convincing M'Donnal to dig a moat and install some pumps - but there was no way the old man would do that, and most vampires in Rhy'Din probably didn't mind running water anyway.
Even with garlic hanging around my neck, I could smell the animals on the farm from a mile away. I heard them not much later, and when I got there I stopped to stare in open-mouthed awe. In addition to his cattle, old M'Donnal must have had one of damn near everything on his farm. I even saw a winged elephant and an honest-to-God gryphen. That was going to make things a little trickier - it's hard to pick out the smell of grave dirt over garlic alone, impossible over that and the fertilizer left behind by all those animals. They'd get in the way, too, even if my own scent didn't drive them to stampede.
After checking out his land and the buildings on it for anywhere a vampire might be wiling away the daylight, I settled into patrolling the perimeter. That kept me away from the animals, and upwind from them for half my circuit. It was almost three in the morning by the time he struck, and by that time I was starting to think that he'd seen me and lost his nerve. No such luck.
I heard a bovine bellow, and I risked upsetting the other animals as I sped across the acreage. It was the vampire, but I couldn't believe it when I saw him. Most vampires wear dark colors, goths at heart, but not this one.
He wore a bright yellow jumpsuit, with striped red and white sleeves. His socks matched his sleeves in the small space between the jumpsuit's legs and the bright red shoes he wore. His face was white - either he was albino or he was wearing grease paint - except for the red around his mouth and on the tip of his nose. If he wasn't wearing a wig, he had the reddest, curliest bush of hair on his head I'd ever seen.
I slowed down in astonishment when I saw him, and didn't regain my senses until it was too late. Even if I hadn't been shocked by his appearance, he was almost as fast as me - stunned still as I was, I couldn't react before he had given up the cow and launched himself at me. I felt sharp teeth tear into the skin at my throat, and blood spurted onto the grass I had fallen on. Strangely, his jumpsuit seemed to repel the stuff, and remained its almost glowing yellow.
This can't be happening. I kept thinking it, over and over again, but it didn't change anything. This ridiculous vampire was draining me.
I was barely conscious when he stopped drinking, and with a flick of razor-sharp nails he opened his own forearm over my mouth. His blood didn't taste right - it wasn't coppery at all, more like fryer grease. I didn't have time to worry about that, though, because even as it filled my stomach, I wanted more. Strength filled my limbs, more than I'd ever felt before, and I fairly flew through the air at the downed cow, which was pitifully trying to regain its feet.
I've never tasted anything so delicious as that walking hamburger's blood. The Wolf was howling in the back of my mind, and I could no longer remember why I ever fought it. Blood soaked my shirt - mine, the vampire's, and the cow's - as I tilted my head out and bellowed out a howl at the crescent moon.
...
That was when I woke up, and remembered that it was April the first.
At least I learned that just because a squirrel is named "Zippy" doesn't mean he's fast.
I don't normally have to go up against vampires, so I went out to pick up some supplies before the sun went down. By the time I headed to M'Donnal's farm, I was loaded for bear. A bandoleer of stakes, a cross hanging from a string of garlic 'round my neck, and a squirt gun filled with holy water, in addition to my usual handgun (freshly blessed by Father Muther) and the holy sword I'd taken off a drunken girl scout a few years back. I wasn't playing any games; if I'd thought he'd do it, I'd have tried convincing M'Donnal to dig a moat and install some pumps - but there was no way the old man would do that, and most vampires in Rhy'Din probably didn't mind running water anyway.
Even with garlic hanging around my neck, I could smell the animals on the farm from a mile away. I heard them not much later, and when I got there I stopped to stare in open-mouthed awe. In addition to his cattle, old M'Donnal must have had one of damn near everything on his farm. I even saw a winged elephant and an honest-to-God gryphen. That was going to make things a little trickier - it's hard to pick out the smell of grave dirt over garlic alone, impossible over that and the fertilizer left behind by all those animals. They'd get in the way, too, even if my own scent didn't drive them to stampede.
After checking out his land and the buildings on it for anywhere a vampire might be wiling away the daylight, I settled into patrolling the perimeter. That kept me away from the animals, and upwind from them for half my circuit. It was almost three in the morning by the time he struck, and by that time I was starting to think that he'd seen me and lost his nerve. No such luck.
I heard a bovine bellow, and I risked upsetting the other animals as I sped across the acreage. It was the vampire, but I couldn't believe it when I saw him. Most vampires wear dark colors, goths at heart, but not this one.
He wore a bright yellow jumpsuit, with striped red and white sleeves. His socks matched his sleeves in the small space between the jumpsuit's legs and the bright red shoes he wore. His face was white - either he was albino or he was wearing grease paint - except for the red around his mouth and on the tip of his nose. If he wasn't wearing a wig, he had the reddest, curliest bush of hair on his head I'd ever seen.
I slowed down in astonishment when I saw him, and didn't regain my senses until it was too late. Even if I hadn't been shocked by his appearance, he was almost as fast as me - stunned still as I was, I couldn't react before he had given up the cow and launched himself at me. I felt sharp teeth tear into the skin at my throat, and blood spurted onto the grass I had fallen on. Strangely, his jumpsuit seemed to repel the stuff, and remained its almost glowing yellow.
This can't be happening. I kept thinking it, over and over again, but it didn't change anything. This ridiculous vampire was draining me.
I was barely conscious when he stopped drinking, and with a flick of razor-sharp nails he opened his own forearm over my mouth. His blood didn't taste right - it wasn't coppery at all, more like fryer grease. I didn't have time to worry about that, though, because even as it filled my stomach, I wanted more. Strength filled my limbs, more than I'd ever felt before, and I fairly flew through the air at the downed cow, which was pitifully trying to regain its feet.
I've never tasted anything so delicious as that walking hamburger's blood. The Wolf was howling in the back of my mind, and I could no longer remember why I ever fought it. Blood soaked my shirt - mine, the vampire's, and the cow's - as I tilted my head out and bellowed out a howl at the crescent moon.
...
That was when I woke up, and remembered that it was April the first.