The Unwilling Vampire - a short vampire story by Rob hopcott

Thu, 01 Mar 2007 09:34:14 +0000

Fresh out of journalist's college, Jennifer always knew she'd have to start at the bottom. Nevertheless, as she sat squirming under the gimlet eye of the tweed jacketed and very scary chief editor of the Ridmorthampton Local Journal, she knew that there was an opportunity at hand that had to be grasped at any cost.

Ms Teresa Tresty, editor in chief, drew her stiff backed executive leather chair tightly into her leather topped desk, patted her tight bun with a white whizened hand and spoke in a frosty voice.

"Jennifer, you must understand that you are in a no win situation. Since our lead reporter is indisposed, I have no choice but to elevate you to this important post temporarily. If you make a mess of this job, which you probably will, I will make sure your reporter career is finished. If you manage to survive the enormous challenge of stepping into the boots of an ace reporter with 30 years' experience, it will only be for a short time. Margaret will be back as soon as she's recovered and you'll be back to filing paper clips for the rest of your contract."

Ms Teresa Tresty did not like cub reporters. She'd edited the Ridmorthampton Local Journal for more years than anybody could remember and most of the population in this elderly, small West Country town had very long memories. Not that there was very much to remember. Most things stayed the same from week to week and year to year and that was the way the elderly population liked it.

Jennifer had been a mistake. The sole ancient shareholder of the Ridmorthampton Local Journal had been visiting when Jennifer had dropped in unannounced with her CV and a determined willingness to undertake any job, however menial. The old man had taken a liking to her long corn colored hair, sprinkling of freckles around her nose and wide willing blue eyes, not to mention her young slim figure.

When she'd stood in front of the editor in chief's desk making her pitch, he'd positioned his small round and rather fat body closely beside her. She'd not flinched and, from his point of view, she was immediately hired.

Ms Teresa Tresty, editor in chief, was given no choice. Naturally, she'd made sure that the terms of employment were demanding to the point of unreasonableness and the salary was so low that Jennifer was practically paying the Ridmorthampton Local Journal to be there.

On Jennifer's first day, Ms Teresa Tresty had fully intended to relegate Jennifer to the basement with the job of sorting the library of back issues into date order and out of the subject order in which they had been placed by a previous work experience junior reporter ten years ago.

The car accident of her chief (and only) reporter (and close friend) immediately put paid to these plans. Worst still, the sole elderly shareholder had somehow heard about the accident and immediately and enthusiastically endorsed Jennifer's written request to step into the vacant position.

All was not yet lost, though. Ms Teresa Tresty had not commanded her position of editor in chief for all these years without having a trick or two up her elegantly starched sleeve.

"There is a tradition that there are vampires in the hill mines in the easterly woods close to Ridmorthampton!"

Jennifer's eyes widened, incredulously. "

It's time that we did an article on this folklore. We will run it in two weeks' besides the births, deaths and marriages on page two so it had better be good. Any questions?"

"But vampires don't exist," said Jennifer.

"The local vampire stories exist and they have existed for many centuries so that is enough young Miss. Find somebody to interview and I want your copy within seven days, properly spelt and ready for publishing. Let me down and you're out. There are people locally who could be helping us out in these difficult times."

Ms Teresa Tresty was of course referring to her best friend at the WI who also edited the monthly church magazine and who could be relied on to do exactly what the editor in chief required, after a convivial coffee break to discuss local gossip, of course.

Five hours later, Jennifer almost wished that some other local person had been given this job. Endless telephone calls to incredulous local dignitaries, officials, assorted librarians and museum curators had drawn a complete blank. They'd been polite and some even asked her if, as a rookie, she'd been sent to get the equivalent of a glass hammer.

One or two of them had heard of vampire stories in the long distant past but none gave them any credibility.

As a last resort, while the sun was setting towards the dark hills to the East, Jennifer rang the local radio station. She was so desperate for a response that she even gave her personal cell phone number over the air.

The radio DJ had a gently chided her but she'd stuck to her guns. Now there was very little that could be done except wait and hope.

As Jennifer walked back to her room in her local low priced hostel along the quiet, tidy streets of Ridmorthampton with the rows of single story, wooden terraced homes with their wicker gates and white fences, she spotted Ms Teresa Tresty's diminutive form contentedly sunbathing in her back garden by the pool.

The contrast between their different situations was so obvious that it was laughable. Vowing to get even, not mad, Jennifer moved on past, quietly, without calling out.

Amazingly, two hours after the radio interview during which she'd asked for anybody with information about local vampire legends to call her, Jennifer's cell phone rang.

The caller sounded very young and shy.

"I heard you on the radio." His voice seemed to come from far away. "You see, the thing is, I am a vampire."

Jennifer rolled her eyes silently. This was all she needed.

She had expected loony calls but had hoped there would be none. She reached for a pad of paper she'd placed close to the telephone for this purpose, determined to be professional.

"How long have you been a vampire?"

"All my life really, vampires live for a long time. Some in my family are thousands of years old."

"And your name is?"

"I'd rather not say. It's all a bit embarrassing. You see I don't really want to be a vampire but my parents insisted on it."

"What is it about being a vampire that you don't like?"

"Well it seems so mean to have to leap on people and suck their blood when they're unwilling. Afterwards, they become the undead which can't be very nice for them."

"Perhaps you wouldn't mind being a vampire if you were able to get their permission?"

"Well it would be I start, I suppose. I quite like the taste of blood. I suppose it is hereditary."

"Would you be available for an interview and, perhaps, some photographs?"

"I'd be willing but ... Is there any money involved?"

Jennifer stifled a giggle. The possibility of having a budget with real money to use to pay for a story was about as remote as the idea she was actually talking to a genuine vampire.

"I'm sorry, that would be out of the question."

"Well, perhaps we could come to another arrangement."

Jennifer's face reddened and two bright sparks of red burned high up in her cheeks. She fought to keep her voice even.

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

"We could do a trade. You could get your pictures and I would get a willing subject."

"It's a bit steep to have to become the undead just for a few pictures," said Jennifer, tightly.

"I wouldn't have to bite very hard. Just a nibble really. You would hardly know it was happening. You wouldn't even need to take the photographs because I have some already taken."

"Sort of like a vampire models portfolio?"

"That's right! I had ideas of becoming a model once, I've got long dark hair, dark eyes and many ladies find my personality amazingly magnetic."

"I can imagine," said Jennifer wryly.

"Is it a deal, then?"

Jennifer thought for a minute. The whole thing was totally ridiculous, but maybe there was mileage in it.

She wished she'd never started with this local newspaper. She didn't care about the job any more or about the stupid person who thought he was a vampire.

"It's a deal," she said, carelessly.

"Have you got a pencil and paper to record the address so you can come around much later tonight. Don't worry, if I'm asleep. Just have your nibble and drop the photographs in to the Ridmorthampton Local Journal for me to pick up in the morning. I'd really rather not know anything about it ... I mean, while you're nibbling."

"Gee, thanks a million, you won't be disappointed with the photographs, I promise. Knowing that you have agreed to be nibbled makes all the difference and you sound so young and lovely."

Jennifer gave him the address, with a slow smile on her face.

"I'm going to ring off now and get an early night," she said.

"Goodnight! My dear," he said. "See you later!"

----------

The next morning, Jennifer woke with a start and, with a great deal of pleasure, reviewed the night before and her steamy date with the local radio station disc jockey.

He'd asked her out after they had gone off air, while the station was putting out some advertising. He'd sounded rather nice so she'd said yes and she hadn't been disappointed.

Tall, fair haired, wiry and intelligent. They'd spent the evening laughing about the locals in Ridmorthampton and then walked through the night together by the river. His company had been wonderful and his kisses pressing. Jennifer had strict rules on first dates but was very much looking forward to the second when she planned to let her hair down.

So, despite her late night, Jennifer was bright eyed and bushy tailed when she entered the rather unusually quiet office of the Ridmorthampton Local Journal.

The short rotund owner of the Ridmorthampton Local Journal was already there, sitting behind the editor's desk, and looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Early this morning, I was called out by the police to the most awful sight I have ever seen in my life. I'm afraid that the editor in chief of this newspaper passed away in the night in horrific circumstances. In short, she was attacked. The police said they'd never seen anything like it before in their lives. They will have a full inquiry and I'm finding it all most exhausting and very distressing. Nothing like this ever happens in Ridmorthampton."

Serenely, Jennifer moved around behind him and gently massaged his neck.

"You don't need to worry about anything," she said. "I will make sure everything runs smoothly at the Ridmorthampton Local Journal."

"You are so wonderful," he said. "Of course, you will have to act up as the editor in chief. I know this will be a great burdon to you so soon but I will make sure you get the appropriate salary."

As he left, Jennifer planted a gentle kiss on his left cheek, then turned around to survey her new domain.

Whether the young man who had called her last night had truly been a vampire, she didn't know.

Doubtless, finding a skinny old woman in bed instead of a tender young maiden must have been a surprise which may have been upsetting for him and certainly for Ms Teresa Tresty.

Or perhaps it had been a hoax call and the man over the phone hadn't turned up to the editor's address that Jennifer had given him .

In any case, she'd spent the evening and most of the night with the radio station DJ so nobody would be asking her questions.

This morning, she'd turned up expecting to be fired and not really caring. Instead, she'd been put in charge of the whole newspaper and had got the job of her dreams.

She'd order extra copies of the Ridmorthampton Local Journal to be printed this week. A good murder always increased circulation!

Much better than silly old vampires.

The End

Vampire short stories

The Unwilling Vampire - a short vampire story by Rob hopcott