The Utterly Uninteresting and Unadventurous Tales of Fred, the Vampire Accountant

by Drew Hayes

  “We are already the proud and powerful dead!” Lord Drake shouted from his spot in the circle. I could see Maria nodding her head violently in agreement, and the rest of the vampire characters joined in with some show of support.

  “You are NOT!” Neil thundered from the center of his circle. “You are sad people living a sad life playing a sad game to escape the misery of reality. The only person in this forest with any real power is myself. Behold, I’ve expanded my spell library and learned to take over the minds of the living.” Neil held his hands and indicated to the three people behind him. “These three each came to me as individuals with thoughts and dreams. Tonight I turned them into nothing more than puppets for my enjoyment.”

  I really wasn’t comfortable with the way his eyes lingered on Krystal when he said “enjoyment.” I tried taking some deep breaths out of habit to calm my stomach. It was looking more and more like our only chance of getting out of here would be if I could rush him fast enough. Behind my back, I gently snapped through a few links of chain.

  “I am a god among men, and you are nothing but painted-up children playing pretend,” Neil continued, sneering as he talked, no longer able to hide his sense of superiority. The players were beginning to get a little antsy. He had broken character a long time ago, yet he still seemed intent on doing them harm. A few even tested their bonds, realizing for the first time just how helpless they had really become.

  “Tonight, however, your pitiful lives will have meaning,” Neil said as he began flipping through his book once more. “Tonight your souls, your life essence, will be used as a catalyst to fuel my own power. As your life flows into me, it will gain the purpose it lacked all these years with all of you. It is a beautiful trade, don’t you agree? You trade you lives, and in exchange you gain the fulfillment of having helped this city’s next ruler rise to his position.”

  The players were panicking now; you’d have had to be an idiot not to see how drunk on his own magic Neil had become. Some were flexing violently against their chains. Others seemed to be crying and giving in to whatever this mad child had planned for them. I just kept my eyes trained on Neil and worked my way through the chains, bit by bit. I probably wouldn’t have a chance until he began reading his spell.

  “But enough chatter. I’m anxious to begin my life as a super being, and I’m sure you are all anxious to help. Minions!” Neil called. The three behind him stood at attention. “You will surround me now. Should anyone break free somehow, your job will be to restrain them until I am able to finish my spell. Let nothing disturb your exalted master!”

  The three followed his orders instantly, forming a tight triangle around him so that no angle of entry would go unseen. They stared out at us, revolving slowly to keep fresh eyes on each prisoner as they turned. No one would get bored; no one would let something slip. Credit where it was due. I had to admit Neil had not fallen into the villain trope of overconfidence, even if he had monologued his evil plan.

  “Well, this just sucks,” I muttered, still breaking through the chains but with less enthusiasm. I had enough trouble getting my mind around the idea of trying to charge Neil head on. I didn’t know how I was going to get through an innocent puppet without hurting them, especially if that puppet happened to be my date. I watched her as she moved: smooth, definite, without hesitation. In that moment, I could clearly see how she was an agent that dealt with supernatural beings. The girl had some physical training, which only served to make my job harder.

  “Ah, here it is,” Neil said, stopping his turning and lighting up his face with a terrifying smile. “Goodbye, mortality. Oncidentum, rapishadum, GHAAAA!”

  For the record, that last line wasn’t part of the spell. The moment he had begun chanting, I had snapped through the remainder of my chains and sprung to my feet as fast as my vampire abilities would allow. As it turned out, though, even a hopped up vampire takes longer to stand than it takes for a trained agent to withdraw and utilize a taser. Into his crotch. And hold it there.

  “Three things, shithead,” Krystal said as she released the taser, and Neil fell to the ground. “First off, you are under arrest for use of necromancy magic without a license. Secondly, never monologue. It gives away your intentions and gives everyone else time to prepare. Lastly, magic is fantastic, but it’s no match for my wand of brain shocking.” With that she knelt down and gave him one last blast to the chest. Neil was out, and I mean “out” as in “drooling and twitching out.” The other two puppets, unfortunately, seemed to be still carrying out orders. They rushed at Krystal, attacking the woman who had broken their master’s commandment.

  She whipped around quickly, tripping the werewolf with her leg and slamming it with her taser as it tried to get up. The werewolf dropped like a hammer, and Krystal quickly turned expecting the ghost to be attacking her other side. What she found instead, though, was me holding the ghost by its hips horizontally over my head.

  “I thought you might need a hand,” I said in what I hoped was a lighthearted manner.

  “My hero,” Krystal replied with a grin. She ambled over, pulled off the ghost’s sheet and put the taser into the arm of the young woman who had been beneath it. The struggling over my head ceased, and I gently set down the girl, rolling up her costume and putting it under her head as a pillow.

  This all sounds like a peaceful ballet of coordinated movements, but it was amid the screaming, shock, and crying of the other vampire prisoners. All of this was topped off by a wail from Albert, and he rushed forward and cradled Neil’s head.

  “You killed him! You killed my friend!” Albert moaned.

  “Did not,” Krystal said, ignoring the calls of the prisoners surrounding her and walking back over to the unconscious mage and the grieving zombie. “Anyone who can use magic has a slight resistance to all forms of energy. That includes electricity. It just required three bursts to take him down like it would a normal person. He’s fine, or at least he will be once he wakes up.”

  “But, he’s under arrest,” Albert said, worry thick in his voice. “Won’t he be killed once he gets charged with what he tried to do tonight?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Krystal said. “Ceremonies aren’t illegal. I’m only charging him with magic usage without a license. You have to be trained and certified to do magic out in the open like this.”

  “Oh,” Albert said, relief washing over his face.

  “Truth be told, you should be worried more about yourself than your friend,” Krystal said as she knelt down and picked up Neil’s book. “Zombies are only allowed to exist on work visas.”

  “What does that mean?” Albert asked.

  “Zombies need a job, or they lose focus and create havoc. Your buddy here is unlicensed, so he can’t offer you employment. It’s almost impossible for zombies to get work other than with the necromancer that created them, so we have to terminate them,” Krystal explained.

  “And when you say ‘terminate’ . . . ” Albert let the sentence trail off.

  “‘Return you to your place in natural world’ is the way the higher ups put it,” she said, finishing his thought.

  “Oh, no,” Albert said, shaking slightly, despite the lack of any biological need to.

  It was a heartbreaking night for the poor kid. He thought his only friend was dead, he discovered he needed a job he wouldn’t be able to get, and he found out he would likely wind up dead again. My empathy went out to the now not-as-upbeat zombie. He obviously had some self-worth issues, and he definitely needed to stand up for himself more, but it seemed like he really had a good heart. That was a set of circumstances I found all too easy to empathize with.

  “Hold on, Krystal,” I said, butting into the conversation. “Exactly what kind of tax benefits come from employing Undead Americans?”

  7.

  “This movie is god-awful,” I said, taking a handful of popcorn and crunching down.

  “Mmhmm. That’s why I picked it. I knew no one else would be here,” Krystal said, ge
sturing to the empty theatre.

  “That couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that it’s three in the morning. Or that this theatre doesn’t even do late night showings.”

  “Hey, I promised you a movie, so I called in a favor.”

  “Uh huh. One day we need to have a talk about you and your job and your favors,” I said with a mustering of authority.

  “Did you want to do that tonight?” Krystal said, her eyes growing serious. There was a hardness there that worried me a bit. I might be the more powerful between the two of us, but I didn’t really think I was the stronger.

  “Well . . . no, not tonight. I think we’ve had enough of your job for this evening,” I said, as I verbally scampered away from that previous authoritative tone.

  “Oh, like it was all bad. You got a new assistant and roommate out of the deal,” Krystal said, her eyes softening and her usual smile dancing into place.

  “I couldn’t let the kid just be put back in the ground. Besides, I really did need the help. Still, I guess now I’ll have to buy blood and animal corpses to keep us both fed,” I said.

  “Zombies don’t eat flesh, Freddy,” Krystal corrected. “They don’t eat anything, not for nutrition. That’s what makes them perfect servants. They don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep. All they do is work, and in the case of yours, file documents.”

  “Wait,” I said. “The whole reason we went out there was reports of a late night lumbering figure and an increase in missing pets. If that wasn’t Albert, then who was it?”

  “Neil,” she said as she turned her attention to the frankenbeast skulking on the screen. “I got a full confession out of him while you were getting Albert set up at your place. He was out at night practicing to try and bring Albert back. He would kill the pets, then try to revive them. The one time he succeeded he let the damn thing wander away, which means I get to spend tomorrow hunting for a freaking zombie rabbit.”

  “That will be an annoyance. Won’t you have to wipe the memories or something of all the vampire characters that saw Neil lose it too?” I asked.

  “Feh, I wish we had mind-wiping abilities. That would be sweet,” Krystal said. “No, we already had the cops that came and unchained them feed them a story. Neil was just some kid who went off his meds and was going to chop them up. Luckily, they had an undercover agent there in the form of me, and I was able to subdue him before he committed any real crimes.”

  “What about when you said he was under arrest for magic without a license?”

  “Playing to his delusion so he would come along more peacefully.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You know, for all his faults, Neil really did seem to care about his friend, though. The whole reason he started this was to bring back his buddy.”

  Krystal nodded. “He’s talented, and he got into it for the right reasons. He just went a little nutty. It happens to everyone without training. Part of the sentence will be enrolling him in courses with a master. In a few months, he’ll be able to control the megalomania and still use magic. Kid with his talent will probably be certified in a year or so.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that. If Neil is so good at magic, why didn’t his mind control spell work on you?”

  “Pshh, no one tells me what to do,” she said with a wink.

  “That seemed like a dodge,” I said.

  “Very good, fang boy.” Krystal lifted up the armrest that separated our two seats. “Now, do you want to chase this topic and keep talking,” she said as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled herself onto my lap, “or do you want to make some use of this empty theatre?”

  For the record, I knew this was another dodge. A more sophisticated one admittedly, but still, obviously, her changing the subject to avoid me asking more questions. I knew that quite clearly.

  I just didn’t care. Relationships are built on trust anyway, right?

  A Weresteed at the Slots

  1.

  My girlfriend’s truck had balls. Not literal ones, of course. These were chrome facsimiles that attached to the hitch. They looked strangely in place on her vehicle, which looked strangely in place enclosed around her as she drove me and my assistant down the sun-parched highway. It was a black pickup, enormous in size and decorated with polished chrome on the grill and interspersed periodically across the frame. She, on the other hand, was a medium-height blonde woman with muddy brown eyes, a low cut spaghetti-strap top, and faded blue jeans. If not for the gun strapped to her hip, she would have looked like the average southern belle. On second thought, I suppose the gun didn’t disqualify her from fitting that stereotype.

  “I’m still amazed by this glass,” I said as I stared at the noonday sun from my seat on the passenger’s side. A lesser man might have objected to the woman taking the wheel on such a long journey. A lesser man would also have been a stupider man, and one with a severe crotch injury to boot.

  “Yeah, our R&D guys are something else,” Krystal said, as she passed a motorist moving too slowly for her tastes, and by “too slowly,” I mean “under ninety miles an hour.”

  “Assuredly. When did you get the glass put in anyway?”

  “Oh, I’ve always had it. I’m something of a fang junkie so it only makes sense to keep it in my car.”

  “Ah . . . oh,” I said. It was hardly surprising. Krystal worked for an agency of the government that dealt with supernatural beings on a daily basis. It wasn’t farfetched that she would be seduced by the confidence and power of a vampire. Not one like me—a more classic, suave vampire.

  “It’s a joke, Freddy. You’re my first light-allergic boyfriend. I promise,” Krystal said with a wide, cheerful grin.

  We both had good reason to be happy. Krystal and I had reconnected at our high school reunion a few weeks back, amidst a pack of murderous werewolves, and had begun dating. It had taken some time, but a few days ago we had formalized our relationship as being committed. I suppose that doesn’t sound like much, but when the majority of your mortal life was spent cuddling up to a tub of ice cream and a classic film, getting a girlfriend still held something of a primordial thrill.

  “I’m just glad we get to come,” chimed in Albert from the back.

  “Of course, I wanted you guys to come,” Krystal said. “This is Thanksgiving, after all. It’ll be a nice change to eat with friends, instead of camped out in some motel room on a stakeout to figure out if the local murders are the work of a serial killer or a ghoul.”

  “We’re glad to spend it with you,” I said truthfully. This was my first Thanksgiving in years with other people, and I was all but brimming with joy in anticipation and appreciation. “Though I’m still not sure why we’ll be spending it in Vegas.”

  “There aren’t many of us Agents to go around, and when you take out the few who have managed to wrangle families along with their careers, it’s even less of us. So while we get the holidays themselves off, we pretty much have to work right up until them. Besides, they have great restaurants, and I can’t cook for shit.”

  “Right, but why Vegas?” I asked again.

  “I used to do life counseling for parahumans who were having trouble,” Krystal said. “One of my old clients called and asked me to come out and advocate for him. Apparently he got into trouble with the local dracolings.”

  “What’s a dracoling?” Albert asked from the back. I was thankful he didn’t know because the truth was I certainly didn’t either.

  “Dracolings are basically humans with dragon blood. They aren’t much physically stronger than mortals, but those bastards have a touch of magic and are sly as foxes when it comes to money. Not to mention they own all of the casinos in Las Vegas,” Krystal said, swerving past another motorist while throwing up the finger.

  “That’s impossible,” I said. “Vegas is a town owned by many different corporations and investors. One group of people couldn’t possess all of it.”

  “And no human would burn to a crisp just
from a little sunlight. You want to crack open the door and see how things go?” Krystal asked.

  “Touché,” I sighed as I admitted defeat. Living as a vampire and dealing with Krystal had forced me to re-evaluate my definitions of what was and wasn’t possible. It was rarely an enjoyable process to indulge in. “How exactly does this glass let in the light without reducing me to cinders?”

  “Magic,” Krystal said simply. “I’d go more in depth, but I’m not an arcane specialist. All I know is that they enchant the glass, and my boyfriend can come along for the ride.”

  “And his assistant,” Albert said, poking his face through ever-so-slightly from the backseat.

  “And who could forget his charming assistant?” Krystal reassured him. Perhaps it was because of how he died or who he was, but Albert could be a bit insecure at times. Then again, I was the last person to be throwing stones in that regard.

  “So these dracolings, they own all of Vegas somehow. What does that have to do with your client?” I asked.

  “Bubba has a bit of a gambling problem.”

  “Bubba?” I asked.

  “Bubba?” Albert echoed.

  “Bubba,” Krystal affirmed. “And I’ll thank you to be nice to him when you boys meet. He’s a good guy and a sweetheart. Aside from the gambling problem, he’s hardworking and responsible.”

  “Sounds as though the gambling might have gotten ahead of the other stuff,” I said.

  “It’s the damn holidays,” Krystal said. “If all you have is an addiction, then seeing everyone connecting with friends and family leaves you feeling lonely. So they run off to the only thing that seems to give them joy and validation. It’s a sad scenario, and I wish my agency was doing more to help it.”

  “Why aren’t they?” I asked.

  “Budget and manpower limitations. If we have to choose between putting down a revolution of mages or offering counseling to depressed pixies, guess where the funds end up?” Krystal said.