I woke up to an insistent buzzing sound. It was the alarm, why had I set that? I was in my secure bedroom, the one beneath the basement. Well, this was bad. I had never had a reason to use it since having it built. And why wasn't Jeremy here with the paper?
Getting up in the evening is tricky for a vampire. One night pretty much merges into all the others. We're creatures of routine, it happens as a result of settling on a set of behaviours that keeps you alive. Undead. Existing. Whatever. The point is that vampires who try new things come to bad ends. Successful vampires, like myself, stick to the tried and true. The known means survival, the unknown destruction. So I had some difficulty recalling why Jeremy was absent and I was in my safe bedroom.
The buzzer sounded again. I rose, went over to the closet, and pulled out my armour. Yes, armour. It's almost common knowledge that if you pierce a vampire's heart you will kill them. Well, not actually true. We are transfixed, unable to move, or dissolve, anything. However, once you have a vampire in such a state it's a short step to setting them on fire which will destroy us so it pretty much amounts to that. This brings us to armour. A good mail birnie is proof against most stakings and if your opponent can get through that, well, you had bigger problems already. Whatever was going on, if I was in my safe room I would probably need the armour going outside.
I pushed the button to talk to Jeremy. "Jeremy. Jeremy? Is everything alright up there?"
There was of course no answer. No answer was bad. I tried to remember the events from when I had gone asleep. It was all a bit fuzzy. As I have said, vampires are creatures of habit and survive when one night is pretty much like another. This has the problem that one night does end up being like another and it can take some time to catch up with the events of a particular night, even if it was the previous one. However, it settled on me that last night had been quite eventful. Being in the safe room was an obvious clue. Other details came slowly back. Zombies, the last paper, the humans and their Amazon leader Jess.
So I continued dressing, chose a wide belt because of the birnie, and then opened the door and flew up the shaft. No, there was no elevator. I can fly and there was a ladder for Jeremy to come and dust. I listened for the humans. They were clustered in the solar. I pulled open the doors, settled onto the floor, and went to greet my guests. They were indeed in the solar eating bowls of some sort of stew. They all looked up and eyed me warily. Now was the time for pointing out that they were eating dinner in the wrong room. I will accept that the solar offered a good view of the driveway up to the house and so was a superior defensive precaution in case of a zombie assault, but still. I have a dining room. One of them was using the knife and fork the wrong way round and two others had their elbows on the table. Such a gross breach of etiquette.
I do know where the fork goes. I just think butchery is more important. But dining manners are important. But so is not letting your food all turn to zombies because the dining room, while having an excellent view in its own right would not be useful if a ravening horde happened up the driveway.
So I just stood there trembling, torn between my guests' appalling manners and their need for survival. It's probably a human thing to be able to dismiss propriety when needed or just convenient. Vampires are not as flexible. So please just use the knife and fork correctly, eat with your mouth closed and we can be your suave, sexy overlords of the night.
"Good to see you Vlad. Pull up a pew," said Mike. Bits of food dribbled out of his mouth as he spoke. I took several steps back into the hall and shut the door. I had forgotten just how messy and gruesome humans can be. As a vampire I don't eat, defecate, breathe, sweat or stink. Yes, humans pong. I am an apex predator with a suite of senses to match and by all that's holy I often wonder why I need an amazing sense of smell. It's the basis for all those stories where the vampire invites you in and insists you clean up before biting you. So I stood there, totally grossed out. Had I been alive I would have been hyperventilating.
"I, I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night. I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night."
I said trying to calm myself. I am so envious of fictional vampires. There is little that fazes them besides a sudden onset of Catholicism. They are always the master and in control. Even when being staked and roasted by the sun they endeavour to look cool. It's totally unfair.
"I am Dracula?" this was from Jess. She was carrying the gun and had sauce all around her mouth. Ick! I took a step back.
"Yes, what of it? I say it to calm myself. Humans do it as well." I said.
"You are no Dracula. Not what I expected," said Jess. "You, you're, what are you doing?" This was in response to the frantic 'wipe your face' motions I was making. Eventually, she worked it out and wiped her face. Admittedly it was with her hand but after all the shocks I had recently endured I could deal with that.
"I don't believe it. Crosses don't work but being a bit mucky does?" she said. I tried to keep from staring at the hand which had done the wiping.
"I just feel better when everything's neat and proper," I said.
"That's just, never mind, everything is strange now. Why are you rustling?"
"Armour" I said, I lifted the side of my shirt to reveal the links beneath.
"Well, that's a novel approach."
"I prefer to think of it as old-fashioned and reliable." I shifted nervously.
"What now? Don't tell me this is not an appropriate conversation for wherever we are."
Amazon or not. Attempted break-in or not. Jess was still a guest and well, there are rules. As I tried to work out which course to take Jess interrupted.
"Jesus Christ Victor. It's the end of the world and you're hung up on propriety. Which bloody room should we be having this discussion in?"
"The parlour. And don't blaspheme. It's wrong. This way."
As I led the way to the parlour I could hear Jess muttering.
"Bloody crucifixes don't work but it still pauses at 'Jesus' for the same reason my gran does."
A good drawing room is many things. You should be able to host a small party or an intimate tete-a-tete in one. It should have both personal touches and yet be available and accommodating to any potential visitor. It should show the host to be educated, cultured and sophisticated. One should be able to conduct matters of business, the state, and the heart although not necessarily all at the same time. I walked inside and went to the liquor cabinet. While, I, for obvious reasons do not drink it is still the done thing to appear to be doing so. I quickly poured two glasses and offered one to my guest before sitting in my favorite chair.
"What would you like to know?" I said, raising my glass. Jess took a large gulp of hers.
"Bloody hell, that's good stuff. Any idea what our next move should be?"
"Well, normally, it's protect the survivors, wait for all the zombies to stop and avoid..." I paused and began to shake.
"And avoid what? Victor are you okay?"
"I am Dracula, I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night. I am Dracula, I am in control. I am the terror of the night."
"Victor!"
"We have to avoid..."
"Yes?"
"We have, to avoid, the Hunters."
"Jes, what's so bad about some hunters? You're a bloody vampire."
"And they're the bloody Hunters!" I said rising. I then put my hand over my mouth. Such a breach of etiquette! I never swear. I stood there in shock.
"Oh for fucks sake Victor. What is it now?"
I am a Vampire. I may have mentioned that. While a little old-fashioned and easily shocked by modern vulgarisms there is little I actually fear. Apex predator and all that. Vampires are harder to kill than humans and pretty much everything that can kill us will kill a human too. I'm also faster, stronger, and quite cunning. I have little to fear. Except for the Hunters. It was not crazy Germans bombing my home to rubble that made me move but the Hunters that came in their wake.
Even so, I shouldn't swear at a guest.
While I had my panic attack it would be nice to say Jess patiently waited. She instead helped herself to the liquor cabinet and then waited.
"Okay. I am calmer now."
"Finally. Now, what are these hunters?"
"Death and Destruction. Two immortal warriors from the dawn of civilisation. They hunt down and destroy all creations of the Necromongers. They are assisted by a cabal of wizards."
"The what, and the what, and the who?"
"Death and Destruction. They're one of the main reasons people don't believe in things like vampires. They are very good at what they do. You can hide and run, or you can die."
"And they'll be coming after you?"
"It's what they do. Calamities like this make it much harder to stay hidden and beneath their notice. They might finally work out that this country has many vampires. Someone will make a mistake and reveal themselves to them. They will come and they will kill us."
"Won't they do something about the zombies?"
"Oh yes. And everything else. While they have your best interests at heart, I am very set on survival."
"Wait. What do you mean New Zealand has many vampires?"
"It is the best place to hide. Many vampires have had this idea and then move here. I am afraid your country's history has been manipulated by the undead to be as dull and unmemorable as possible."
"New Zealand has a rich and vibrant history!" Jess had stood up.
"But quite a dull one. Your country has had little in the way of constitutional or sociological upheavals, the government is remarkably stable and you all raise sheep. Most of your famous citizens did their famous thing somewhere else. It is a place to come from. A dull little farm village at the end of the world."
"That's not true!"
I blinked. Rather atavistic but it was very surprising. Jess could handle the concept of vampires, zombies, and the end of the world but the fact that New Zealand was dull? Why was that so shocking?
"Why is it so difficult to believe? Most fiction about Vampires has us secretly controlling society." I smiled, I did like that part. Wouldn't it be wonderful to control the world and make everything run the way you wanted?
"But making my country boring?"
"Yes! Interesting attracts attention. It attracts them."
Jess started for the door. "No, I'm leaving. You're full of shit." Jess walked out and slammed the door.
I paused. Jess should of asked to leave. But I am nothing if not adaptable.
"But wait! It is still dangerous."
I was about to get up when I got interrupted.
VINCENTI OF MEGARA. YOU ARE REQUIRED IN COUNCIL IN TWO NIGHTS' TIME.
I stopped. The damn Council. Damn. Damn. Damn.
"Fuck." I covered my mouth. Those humans were affecting me.
Telepathy is the absolute worst. It is not like a normal conversation where you make a sound and then others hear it. Telepathy is someone placing their thoughts inside your head. There, they become your thoughts, part of your memory. It is still also their thoughts though. If it's someone you are close to or agree with it's not so bad. If it isn't, then you have an intruder in your mind. For as long as you can remember.
Vampires have very long memories. It is quite terrible that many of them are not your own. Small parts of you are not you and some of them are unpleasant.
Gregor is unlikeable by even vampire standards. He wants to be head of some Vampire Society ruling over us all like some undead monarch. This of course ignores some fundamental aspects of our necrology. We are solitary hunters and quite territorial. One is our natural number. Oh, every once in a while a vampire will think 'Wouldn't it be grand if I had a vampire minion' for whatever reason they think is a good one. It seldom ends well. Making a vampire is not the same as having a child, or a lover or friend for all eternity. It's making a competitor. One that is as powerful and destructive as you are. You may have an edge in cunning, but that's it. When the inevitable screaming, snarling, fangs, and claws-bared confrontation starts over something trivial it's, it's a coin toss really. Leading cause of destruction in vampires after the Hunters? Progenitor on progeny spats.
We don't get on with what could broadly be described as our families. Forming some formal community of the undead? Not going to happen. Still, there is a need to communicate. Establishing one's territory and maintaining it is the main one, warning each other of potential dangers is another. Temporarily uniting to deal with some existential threat? Sure. It has happened. A few times, here and there. It's not cause enough to all meet regularly at some undead soiree. Because you simply cannot place dangerous ambush predators in small confines and expect them to play nice. Something gets said, someone moves the wrong way, and then suddenly almost everyone present is destroyed or worse, in a state where they wish they were. That's not the worst of it.
The last disaster was sometime in the 17th Century. Let's all pretend we are humans at a glorious court like, whoever it was. One of the Loius's? Probably. It was in France at any rate. They had sent out invites on gold leaf and everything. I promptly destroyed mine and immediately moved. To Poland. Which was as far as I got before I felt them all destroyed. The Hunters are out there. They are as old as us, just as clever and so much more powerful. They're the reason most humans don't believe in monsters because they are that good. I spent a decade in a cave in the Tatras because of that.
This brings us back to Gregor. He post dates that event and thinks we ancients are just alarmists and worrywarts. So he buys into the entire Vampire mystique. I may dream of being Dracula. Gregor wants to be Dracula. Idiot. Then again, if I don't answer he'll just send another message and another. Which I don't want. So, yes. I have to speak with, for want of a better word, my peers about what they all must think is a terrible crisis. It's not really. Just another damned zombie outbreak.