Title: Knorg’s Vampire Tarot

Category: Paranormal
Author Pen name: Knorg
Email: paxgronk@hotmail.com
Description: These card stories use a variety of well-known and popular as well as more obscure characters, from Marge Simpson to Elvis, from Bloodrayne to Jon Arbuckle, as well as my own characters. Each story is around 1000 words.

Stories: Death/Rebirth by Vampire, catfight, sex, girl-on-girl, and similar. 

 

Song lyrics used without permission.

Characters/places/trademarks that aren’t mine are used for this parody without permission.

This story concept is a parody of Fifteen Painted Cards from a Vampire Tarot by Neil Gaiman.

 

I. The Magician

 

A gentle snow was falling on December 31st 2000 as Dave realised with some shock that he didn’t have a date for JimBob’s New Year’s Eve party. He checked his watch as Evanescence blasted anachronistically from the car radio. One and a half hours to find a date for the party – it didn’t look good.

 

“What the fuck is that?” Dave’s attention was suddenly diverted from the road towards the Naphill Non-Denominational Place of Rest ‘A plague pit since 1384’, by a late burning bonfire. Hitting a patch of ice, the car spun around three times and came to park perfectly outside the cemetery. Dave pried his fingers from the steering wheel, and finished one of the most heartfelt prayers ever to use the word fuck more than twenty times.

 

The car smashed through the gates smashing the rusted hinges to buggery, and slewed to a stop only a few feet from the bonfire. Dave shook his muzzled head and muttered “Bone-fire…”  A gash had opened on his forehead thanks to a mostly ineffectual airbag, and Dave’s inexplicably heavy dashboard aqua-pet, which he had nutted through the soft bag.  

 

Dave clambered from his car to check the damage, noting hideous scratches and nasty dents – which had been there ever since he’d tried drunk driving – but little new damage.

 

“Well… that sure felt like a Deus ex Machina to me. I might’ve looked away from the road but c’mon! The Dave does not crash!”

 

“Too whom are you talking?”

 

Dave turned around just as some blood dripped irritatingly into his eye. It stung. He wiped it away and flicked it towards the ground and reached into his pocket for a tissue.

 

“Myself… I guess.” His car lights on front, and the bright burning fire to the real were mostly obscuring the speaker. He could make out two figures by the fire, and that was about it. The voice still managed to tickle his libido, coated with honey and twanging with a posh accent that seemed above the manufactured Nuevo Riche of the area.

 

The two figures approached him and he made out ladies, like enough to be sisters.  They were both 5 feet four tall, with pale skin that strangely didn't seem to be a make-up job. One’s eyes appeared green, the other’s red. A trick of the light, Dave thought. The hair of both was black and dropping to their mid-backs. Each seemed to be wearing a dress matching the colour of her eyes, floor length and cut in an old fashioned style. They didn’t seem warm enough for the weather.

 

Blooming Goths’ Dave thought, though he kept his expression pleasant enough. He didn’t have anything against Goths really.

 

“You’re hurt.” The woman with green eyes commented. Dave thought it was the same voice as before, though he was unsure. The other woman looked somehow scarier, hungry.

 

“I could be in a lot worse trouble than this.” Dave commented, as he moved to shove the broken gates out of the way. The muscles strained as he lifted. Green eyes moved forward and helped him. It moved too easily then. Looking around, he could see no sign of Red Eyes. He turned towards Green Eyes who ran a hand down his side.

 

“Dark night. Aren’t you scared out on you own?” she whispered, leaning her pale face in close to Dave’s.

 

“Hey! The Dave is scared by nothing!” he slipped into his fake macho-persona, and decided he’d probably found his date for the evening. He leaned in to kiss Green Eyes. The red eyed woman hissed right behind him.

 

“…except her…”

 

Green eyes laughed, “I am Shada. My sister Necra is always angry. You interrupted our ceremony of remembrance and so she is angry with you… But I like you… I want to kiss you, and hold you, and take you…”

 

The Dave didn’t even bother mounting defences as the smirk made a dash for his face. Shada seemed rougher as she reached around him, and pulled him towards her. Her hands were cold through his shirt, which Dave attributed to the weather. Shada pulled him forward, and Dave found himself in a gentle tug of war. He felt his dick tenting his shorts.

 

“I was just needing a date for a New Year’s Eve party. Care to be my Deus Ex Machina, ladies?”

 

“Why, you silver tongued devil… Nobody’s tried a latin chat-up line on me in ages.” Necra smiled, and kissed Dave gently. He responded enthusiastically as he felt Necra hold him close from behind and brush her lips along his neck. Then she bit into it, and Dave was shouting into Shada’s mouth. He elbowed back harshly, but it seemed to have no effect. Only Shada dragging him away, tossing him to the ground, saved him.

 

“Bitch! I saw him first!” Necra hissed and snarled.

 

“We can share, can’t we? You’re far to ready to kill. You have no fun!”

 

The sisters were circling each other, horny and blood-thirsty with Dave’s scent in the air. Dave sat on the ground, hand to his bloody throat. It didn’t feel like Necra had managed to do much damage as Dave dug down for the reserves of his own masculinity and skill.

 

“Screw it.” He reached into his inside pocket, and pulled out the large cross he kept handy for Jim-Bob’s brother. Leaping athletically and adrenally to his feet he held it towards Necra. The vampire sister backed off, shielding her face.

 

He flicked his eyes at Shada “Babe, keep your teeth to yourself and you got a date with The Dave…”

 

She smiled, “You haven’t seen what I can do with my teeth…”

 

Dave and Shada backed towards the car, with the vampire keeping Dave between her and the cross. Necra looked bloody daggers at the pair of them, blood-crazed and frustrated.

 

As Dave sat down in the driver’s seat and felt the power of the engine kick beneath him, Shadra opened his fly and dropped her eager mouth into his lap. Dave sighed as he reversed, confident in his control of the situation.

 

“The Dave thinks this could be the start of a beautiful friendship…” the car swerved as he drove towards the party as Shada dispelled his carefully cultivated myth as a 19-year-old sexual athlete, and swallowed a load of his cum. Blood wasn’t the only liquid she enjoyed.

 

Meanwhile, back at the graveyard…

 

“Oh Dear!” Local man Si Barlow commented as he passed the wreaked gates. I say! Miss! Are you…ARRR!”