• Dark Prince, One

      Dark Prince, One (11-17-2011)

    The wooden lid of the coffin creaked, ancient hinges flecking off rust as they were forced into use for what was the first time in centuries. A hand, fingers ending in long, dirt encrusted claws, reached out from the small opening, dust falling off the pale skin. The fingers looked weak, unfamiliar with the life that flowed through them, but then they remembered. Clutching at the side, the hand hurled the lid off, revealing the furious beast underneath.

    A man with a clipboard leaned down over the coffin, clucking his tongue. “Listen, sir. You can’t be playing around in the coffins.”

    The vampire lifted up, looking into the pudgy face of Fred Fraction, Inventory God. Fred pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tapping at the long list of items he held despite the bared fangs of the creature before him. It grasped for Fred, clenching his throat as the vampire stepped out of the coffin . HecCould only lift Fred a little bit before his whole body was wracked with pain, his limbs stiff and cramped from his time in the small coffin.

    Fred sighed, pulling the list past the vampire’s strong arm and running his pen down it. “Let’s see…Crosses, see crucifix. All right.” He continued down the list, the vampire’s hissing dulling down as he tried to wake up his deadened legs. The tingling was so bad it hurt, his legs having pretty much been on top of each other for a century.

    “Crucifixes. One. Perfect.”

    Fred reached over to a numbered box within arm’s reach, pulling out a crucifix and then pushing it into the vampire’s face. Already weak from his numbed limbs, he fell back into his coffin, banging the back of his head. He hit his head again when Fred dumped the coffin out onto the floor, throwing the vampire right under a window.

    Stray beams of light burned his face, and the vampire dragged its sleeping legs as it pulled itself away from the light. Fred walked right on past him, reaching into a filing cabinet and rifling through the documents. He pulled out one large form, tossing it on the floor at the vampire’s feet without another word.

    The beast roared, his features feral until he looked down at what it said. Pulling out a small pair of reading glasses, he skimmed down through it, terror touching his heart for the first time since his change. “I’m…being evicted?”

    “Land taxes. You know the Dire family hasn’t made a single land tax payment on the castle in over a hundred years? The government will only tolerate it for so long before we kick you out.”

    The vampire wobbled to his feet, cape thrust out wide. “You will rue the day that you dared set foot in the home of Baron Dire! There will be an excessive amount of ruing going on at your place of employment! People will leave notes in the suggestion box that ask for less ruing, and to bring back crazy hat days!”

    “We already have a ruing safety committee that meets once a month to talk about ancient evils and the woe they spread. I can assure you, Mr. Dire, that we’ll be quite all right.”

    The vampire slipped into the shadows, creeping up in front of Fred. “Your committees are no match for the Dark Arts. I can destroy you where you stand, or consume your will and make you do it yourself. How would you like to dig the hole you will be buried alive in?”

    Fred continued about his work as the vampire watched him, his hands clenched into fists. Fred spoke back over his shoulder. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Dire, but if you’re going to act like that, then you’re just going to make this repossession that much harder. My hands are tied. We have to take everything in this home to make back what you owe the government, and it isn’t going to be much. I don’t think that old lab equipment downstairs even works any more, and that stitched-together corpse that’s been sitting on it for years isn’t helping its resale value.”

    The vampire looked weak and despondent. “But…what will come of this place?”

    “I hear a lovely gentleman with a machete and hockey mask is interested in buying it. If not, that fellow with the fedora, striped sweater, and razor claw expressed some interest.”

    The vampire cried out, turning into a rubber bat before flying deep into what used to be his home.

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