“Thank you, sir. I repulse you because I am who I am, and I have confidence in me.”
“Don’t you mean, ‘I have confidence in myself ’?”
“Listen—for some reason, Hammerstein’s word is law in this story, even if his word is grammatically incorrect. The man seems to have some strange hold over…”
Before she could finish the thought, von Trapp tooted “Shave and a Haircut” on his whistle. A second later, Maria heard unison footsteps from above that sounded somehow creepy. As the footsteps became louder and louder, Maria grew more and more excited. This has to be the brood, she thought. These are the brats.
Thirty seconds later, there they were, in all their glory, standing in a row—tallest to shortest, left to right—glaring at their new Governess: The von Trapp kids.
Maria’s first thought: The Captain has issues with the way I dress? Really? She couldn’t be blamed for being taken aback with the children’s identical blue sailor suits; the best that could be said about those pantywaist outfits was that they matched.
Maria’s second thought: No wonder the Captain showed no interest in bedding me. The man is too potent for his own good.
The Captain again blew that infernal whistle, which Maria promptly slapped from his hand. It flew high into the air and broke several light bulbs on the largest of the large chandeliers, before falling onto the floor and shattering into sixteen-going-on-seventeen pieces. The tallest boy locked his eyes onto Maria’s chest and whispered, “Nice.”
As she watched a lump grow right below the boy’s waistline, she smiled a secret smile and thought, Ah, that must be Friedrich. Maria took an involuntary step toward the boy, but stopped herself when the Captain roared, “Ten hut!”
He marched slowly up and down the line, glaring the entire way, stopping only to straighten the chubbiest boy’s collar. “The way you wear your suit, Kurt,” the Captain said, “simply disgusts me.”
Friedrich said, “Me, too.”
Von Trapp turned on his heel and roared, “Shut it, Gretl!”
“I’m not Gretl, Father,” the boy said.
The Captain wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, squinted at his oldest son, and said, “I know that, son. I … I … I wanted to see if you were paying attention.”
As the brats rolled their eyes, the boy pointed at his father’s stained shirt. “What’s that mess on your chest?”
The Captain pawed at the now dry vomit. “Never you mind.” He cuffed Friedrich on the ear. “Now straighten up, boy.”
Staring right at Friedrich’s crotch, Maria mumbled, “He looks pretty straight to me.”
One of the short sailor-suit-clad girls stepped out of line, wandered over to the tall, pretty girl who stood on the far left, and sneezed onto her stomach. The tall girl gave her little sister a shove, but the shorter girl neatly avoided falling—Maria guessed that they had played this game before—then gave her sister a wet, wet raspberry, so wet that the smaller von Trapp spent sixteen-going-on-seventeen seconds wiping the spittle from her face with her sleeve. After she returned to her proper place in line, the Captain glared at his offspring and asked, “Are you brats very much finished?”
In unison, they said, “Yes, Father.”
“Thank you.” He then lifted his hand to his mouth and blew into … nothing. As the chubby von Trapp boy snorted, the Captain asked, “Which one of you took my whistle?”
Friedrich said, “If you’ll recall, not more than a minute ago, your attractive friend over here knocked it from your hand.” Then, under his breath, he added, “Have another drink, why don’t you?”
“I know that, boy. I … I … I wanted to see if you were paying attention.” (At that, even Maria rolled her eyes.) “Now then, this is your new Governess, Magdalene.”
“Maria, sir.”
“Right. Maria. Now introduce yourselves!”
The tallest girl—who Maria realized upon closer inspection was one of the prettiest mortals she had ever seen—stepped forward and said, “Liesl! I hate you, Governess!”
And then, Friedrich. “You know who I am. And unlike my sister, I love you, Governess. A lot.”
Then came a cute girl with braids: “Louisa! You resemble a troll, Governess!”
Next, a chubby boy: “Kurt! You’re fat, Governess!”
Kurt was followed by the girl who had sneezed on Liesl: “Brigitta! You reek like cattle, Governess!”
And then came another girl: “Marta! You reek like cattle, Governess!”
Brigitta stomped her foot. “I just said that. You always steal my things.”
Finally, a five-ish-year-old girl who Maria thought looked good enough to eat: “Gretl! I don’t have enough vulgar words in my vocabulary to insult you in the manner to which you deserve to be insulted, Governess!”
The Captain nodded approvingly. “Wonderful, children. You have represented the von Trapp name well.” He then asked Maria, “You remember all that?”
“You mean do I remember that your offspring told me that they hate me, they love me, I look like a troll, I’m fat, I smell like cattle, and I’m awful beyond words? Yes, Captain, that’s the kind of thing that sticks in your head.”
The Captain chuckled. “Oh, no, I meant do you remember their names?”
“Of course I do. How could I forget! Such lovely names they are! Kurt. Rolls right off the tongue. Gretl. Evokes spring flowers. And Brigitta. Brr … Gee … Tuh. All those hard consonants are so very, very attractive.” She paused, then added, “I’m not sure about Marta—that presents a problem we’ll address later in the chapter—but otherwise, we’re talking some serious perfection.”
Von Trapp beamed proudly. “Why thank you. They were all my choices, Maria…”
“Sir, you got my name right!”
The Captain burped. “Did I ever have it wrong?” Before the Vampire could answer, he said, “Where’s that whistle of mine?”
Staring at the blop of blood on the floor, Maria asked, “Is the whistle really necessary?”
“In my regime, the children answer only to a whistle.”
With blinding speed, Maria picked up all sixteen-going-on-seventeen pieces of the broken whistle and said, “Well, sir, it’s now my regime, and they’ll answer to those mellifluous Germanic names of theirs.”
The Captain shook his head. “The whistle.”
Maria said, “The Germanic names.”
“Whistle!”
“Germanic names!”
“Whistle!”
“Germanic names!”
“WHISTLE, WHISTLE, WHISTLE!”
“GERMANIC NAMES, GERMANIC NAMES, GERMANIC NAMES!”
“ALFRED! A DRINK! NOW!”
From off in the Batcave … er, from off in the distance, the butler called, “Right away, sir!”
Von Trapp took a deep breath, then told Maria, “Were you this much of a pain in the hindquarters at the Abbey, Fraulein?”
Remembering the joys of flying through the Alps, and disemboweling townspeople on the way back home, she said, “You don’t know the half of it, sir.”
“Nor do I want to know the half of it.” He turned to go. “Have fun with the brats.”
After the Captain was out of earshot, Maria—aware she had to gain control of these brats right away—snarled, “Alright, children, there’s a new sheriff in town, and her name is Maria.”
Louisa asked, “What’s a sheriff, Governess?”
“Crack a dictionary, blondie. Now here is the deal: My word is law. When I say frog, you jump. If I tell you to eat mud, you’ll ask for seconds. Is that clear?”
The brats belted her with a barrage of schiesses and ficks.
Maria said, “I’ll choose to ignore that. Now there are a whole lot of you von Trapps, so to keep things straight for our readers, let’s hear those mellifluous Germanic names again.”
The tallest girl stepped forward and said, “I’m Liesl. I’m sixteen-years-old, and I believe all Governesses are scum.”
“Of course you
do. Next!”
Friedrich stepped forward. “You know who I am, beautiful.”
Maria sauntered over to the boy, stood a few millimeters in front of him, gave him the tiniest glimpse of fang, and said, “I certainly do.”
He gulped, then said, “I’m fourteen. And I’m throbbing.”
She whispered in his ear, “I am sure you are,” then gave his neck the gentlest of nibbles.
At that, Friedrich shivered, quietly moaned, then stumbled back into the line.
Maria gave a sexy chuckle, then cleared her throat and said, “Next.”
Louisa took a step forward and said, “I’m Brigitta.”
Maria—who already remembered each of the children’s names—lifted Louisa by her right braid, twirled her three times in the air, then gently placed her back on the ground. “Would you like to try that again, blondie?”
Barely fazed, Louisa said, “I’m Louisa.”
“And how old are you?”
“Five million,” Louisa said, then stomped back into the line.
Without being asked, Brigitta stepped forward and said, “She isn’t five million, Governess. She’s thirteen. I’m ten.”
Liesl said, “Oh, do shut it, you goody-goody twat.”
“Who are you calling a twat, twat?”
“I’m calling you a twat, you little…”
The chubby boy interrupted, “My turn, my turn! I’m Kurt! I’m eleven! I’m incorrigible!”
Maria asked, “Do you even know what the word incorrigible means?”
Liesl said, “It means he’s a twat.”
Sighing, Maria pointed at the second-to-last girl in line. “You. Speak.”
“I’m Marta, and I’m going to be seven next week, and for my present, I’d like a squirrel.”
“A living squirrel or a dead squirrel?” Maria asked.
“Dead would be fine, Governess.”
Maria beamed, then knelt down and gave the little girl a hug. “Oh, Marta, I love you most of all!” She rubbed her chin for a moment, then said, “But there’s one problem: The names Marta and Maria look practically the same in print, and there are so many of you brats that things are confusing enough without having two names that are only one letter apart. So to eliminate any necessary uncertainty, can we change your name to, oh, say Barta? Or Tarta? Or Charta?”
Friedrich said, “How about Farta?”
As her beam grew even more beamy Maria said, “Farta! Perfection.”
The von Trapp formerly known as Marta said, “But I don’t want to be…”
Interrupting the newly christened Farta, Maria tapped the girl at the end of the line—the littlest von Trapp—on the forehead and said, “You. What’s your story?”
The little girl shook her head.
“Cat got your tongue?” The little girl hawked on the floor; her sputum got some good distance, and landed right next to the glop of Maria’s ear blood. “That’s some wonderful aiming! My, you’re practically a lady!”
Liesl said, “She’s practically a twat.”
Maria surveyed the children and thought, I could kill each of them and be in Romania before anybody notices … except Mother Zombie. She would most certainly notice. Not wanting to hurt her chances of being invited back into the Abbey, she sighed and said, “Okay, children, I have two secrets to tell you: First, before I came to this house, I was living in a house filled with undead women…”
In unison, the children roared, “Stierscheisse!”
“… and second, I’ve never been a Governess before.”
Each child’s face broke into a predatory grin. “Is that right?” Louisa asked.
“That’s right.”
Kurt said, “We can offer you some suggestions.”
“I need all the advice I can get, children.”
Louisa said, “If you want to earn points with my Father, I’d recommend hiding all of his gin.”
“Sound thinking, blondie,” Maria said.
Brigitta said, “I find that excreting on the seat of the toilet bowl in the ballroom’s bathroom is a wonderful way to brighten up the house.”
“I’ll be staying out of the ballroom for a while, but consider it done!” Maria said.
Friedrich said, “It’s crucial that the Governess tuck me in at night. A good, long tuck.”
Maria ran the tip of her tongue across her lips. “It will be my pleasure.”
Kurt piped up, “And during dessert, always chew your food, then spit it back onto your plate!”
Gretl said, “Don’t believe a word they say, Fraulein Maria.”
“Wonderful,” Liesl groaned, “the goody-goody twat has spoken.”
A woman clad in a light blue short-sleeved dress and a white apron goosestepped into the room, clapping her hands sharply. “Alright, Bradys, er, von Trapps, outside,” she roared. “Now! Hurry up! Move, move, move, move, move!”
While the children trudged toward the back of the house—cursing the entire way, naturally—the female Alfred said, “I’m Frau Alice. I singlehandedly run this dump.”
Maria said, “I apologize in advance for the state of the ballroom. But it wasn’t entirely my fault.”
“What’s this about the ballroom, now?” Frau Alice asked.
“Nothing. It’s wonderful to meet you, Frau. Everybody here at the von Trapp mansion has been simply lovely to me.”
Frau gave Maria a skeptical look. “Really? Do you even know what the word ‘lovely’ means?” Before Maria could answer, Frau said, “Let me show you to your room,” then collected the Vampire’s suitcase and saxophone.
As the housekeeper headed up the stairs, Maria felt a piercing sting in her backside. She put her hand on her rump, and came across a dart. After removing the pointy thing, Maria looked across the living room; the seven children were staring icily back at her … and Liesl held a blow-gun in her left hand. They all remained motionless, except for Friedrich, who stuck out his tongue at Maria, mouthed the word, “Sorry,” then cupped his testicles through his pants with his left hand, made a pretend telephone with his right, and mouthed, “Call me.”
As they headed upstairs, Frau Alice said, “You’re very lucky. They lit the last Governess on fire. Now that’s a story. Of a girl named Brady.”
“A girl named who?”
“I can’t discuss it. You’ll have to talk to Sam the Butcher.”
“Is Sam the Butcher like Jack the Ripper? Because he was a friend. Quite a lovely man. As misunderstood as the day was long.”
Shaking her head, Alice repeated, “They lit the last Governess on fire.” She paused, then added, “Maybe it’ll happen again.”
Maria looked over her shoulder and gave the von Trapp brood a patently evil grin. Then, in a cold tone that made the housekeeper shiver, said, “Trust me, Frau, that won’t happen. Ever.”
Maria then revealed her fangs.
At that, Farta burst into tears.
The Captain, clutching a bottle of gin, sprinted into the room and belched, “What? Who? Who’s that? Is that the sound of a little girl crying? Must be Kurt.” And then he leaned to the left, leaned to the right, belched again, and fell face first onto the floor.
At that, Louisa burst into tears, after which each child, save for Liesl and Friedrich, followed suit.
Maria nodded. “That’s right, children. Cry. Cry! Feel my wrath, er, my authority!”
Liesl stepped toward her new Governess and said, “Fraulein, I’d like to speak to you in private, please. Would you do me the favor of joining me in the backyard?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Maria glared at the remaining von Trapp children, then snapped her fingers four times, after which the brats froze solid.
Nonplussed, Liesl stared icily at her unmoving brothers and sisters, then nodded. “As I suspected. Come.”
Gazing longingly at Liesl’s bosomy bosom, Maria told Frau Alice, “Catch you on the flipside,” then skipped over to the eldest von Trapp child.
Once they were outside, Liesl sa
id, “I can tell what you are, Governess. I’ve read about your kind. You’re a Vampire, are you not?”
Maria said, “Indeed,” and then she opened her mouth and clicked her fangs together three times.
Liesl knelt down, held her hands together in supplication, and said, “I know what you can do, and I want to do that, and then some. So I beg you, please, please, please give me the bite of transformation. Please give me eternal life. My life here is boring and empty. Look around you. I live in a gilded cage, beauty all around, but absolutely no freedom. My siblings are horrible…”
“No scheisse,” Maria said.
“… and I want to be different from them. I want to be like you.” She repeated, “Please, please, please give me the bite of transformation,” after which she closed her eyes and bowed her head.
Having never been asked to suck somebody’s hemoglobin—she had always been the decision-maker in the blood-sucking arena—Maria was more than a little taken aback. Her initial inclination was to pick Liesl up by her hair, twirl her around several times, and throw her into the lake, but Mother Zombie would probably catch wind of that, and Maria knew that there was no way she would be invited back into the Abbey if she had a random murder on her hands. But a transformation, she thought, is in my nature. A Vampire gets hungry, and can’t help but chew on the neck of a lovely young woman. I most certainly won’t be punished for that.
Maria leaned over and cupped Liesl’s chin, then gently lifted her face until their eyes met. “Are you sure this is what you want, child?”
Liesl whispered, “Yes. I want to live in the night. I want to feed on the innocent. And I want one of those cat suits.”
“We’ll see about the cat suit. But as for the rest of it, well, lay down.”
Liesl flopped onto her back. “Like this, Fraulein?”
Maria lay down beside her. “Yes, my dear. Just like that.” And then she rolled onto her side, grabbed Liesl’s face, turned her neck sharply in the opposite direction, and sank her four front fangs into the girl’s sweet, sweet neck. As Maria sucked the luscious blood from Liesl’s jugular, the eldest von Trapp child’s body stiffened and paled. Maria began panting through her nose, and her nipples hardened. She released Liesl’s neck, screamed at the sky in ecstasy. She then bit her own wrist until a strong stream of blue blood oozed from the wound, then opened Liesl’s mouth and let the viscous liquid spurt onto the girl’s tongue. With each drop, Liesl became more animated; after two-or-so minutes of feasting, Liesl sat straight up, her face landing in between Maria’s breasts.
My Favorite Fangs: The Story of the Von Trapp Family Vampires Page 5
