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.
This cautionary tale opens
on a typical London takeaway, about an hour after sundown.
Mr Nosfer, the owner,
arrived, “Greetings Joe. Is everything alright?”
“Evenin’ Mr Nosfer.
Neither of the bloomin’ drivers are in! Baz is sick an’ Mick just didn’t turn
up. It’s a bleeding nightmare!”
“We can’t do without
delivery, Joe and… where’s Eliza?”
“The new girl wot your
keeping an eye on for her dad? Yeah, I sorted it, see? The deliveries? I’m
covering her jobs here, ‘cos she said she could ride the bike, so I sent her on
delivery. Mr… Mr Nosfer? You aright? Mr Nosfer?”
**
Toby lived alone in a
pokey, minimally furnished, but tidy flat on the second floor of a tower block
in Peckham, London. Five years before he’d been an up and coming solicitor in a
top city law firm, the son of rich and successful parents. A fiancée, plans for
a kitten – everything seemed to be going fine. They said it was stress, nervous
exhaustion. Some said the fiancée had cheated, others that Toby just wasn’t cut
out for the big city life. Or the kitten.
Now he sat there, day in,
day out, always-on net connection. Food & mail order was delivered; the
physically close outside world ignored. In a city of millions, Toby was alone.
Surprisingly, he kept in shape. There was expensive exercise equipment around
the flat; his parents rarely visited the squalid part of the city, yet covered
bills as a sop to their ill-deserved guilt. ‘Toby’s poorly,’ they’d say, ‘but
George has just been made a partner, yah!’ Still, they put off visits as if
Toby’s ‘failure’ was infectious.
Tonight he’d ordered in a
treat; Ali’s Pizza & Burgers was his usual, but a flier through the door
had persuaded him to try a new Romanian firm. Sweat ran down his face as he
flicked his eyes to the read-out, then back forward. He was unshaven, running
hard. He ran more on the treadmill within the walls of his small flat than most
Londoners did, day-by-day. He was like a hamster on a cage wheel; surrounded by
human life and personally alone. He looked the part aside from staying fit; his
hair was long and his blonde beard straggly.
“Shit, that was fast!”
Toby cursed, slowing his run and hopping down onto the thin carpet. Wearing
only his boxers, he grabbed for a dressing gown as he crossed to the front
door, yanking it open without his usual safety check through the view-hole. He
opened the door onto a tall, pale skinned and dark haired woman who looked very
different to any pizza del… No, not quite. She wore a cheap red uniform with a
jaunty cap and the ‘Brasov Burgers’ logo. She was also carrying one of the
‘pizza-warm’ bags that would hold the box. She checked a slip of paper and then
momentarily fixed her brown eyes on his blue.
“Meaty Feast?” she asked.
Toby reddened as she ran
her eyes down his bare chest, and pulled his gown properly closed. She sniffed
gently at the air, and Toby reddened as realised he probably smelled pretty
strongly after his exercise.
“Oh yes,” she licked
her lips, “You are the meaty feast.”
Toby stammered and backed
away from the door, unable to look into her dark brown eyes; Ali’s brother’s
deliveries were never like this! The hulking Turk always brought the picture
and took the money quickly and quietly, well aware of Toby being ‘a stone
bonker,’ as he told his brother.
“I… I have to get the
money, I’ll just be… be a second…” Toby was so thrown her forget another basic
safety precaution and left his front door open as he turned and went over to his
desk. His hands shivered as he pulled at the drawer where he kept some of his
cash-stash.
“You… live alone… nobody
has visited here for months,” Toby heard woman’s eastern European voice behind,
and wondered how she knew.
“How do you know that?
HEY!” Toby asked, turning around with a ten-pound note in his hand, to find the
delivery gi… woman was standing right behind him; the front door had been
closed without him ever hearing it. He felt his blood pounding; the old
nervousness was killing and he shrank back against the desk. She was taller
than his 5’11”.
“I am hungry. This country
is harsh to live in. I will feed, safe here. Nobody comes.” Her English was
broken, but Toby thought the crazy eastern European woman’s intent was clear.
Toby had years before had the misfortune to read a copy of the Daily Mail on a
long train journey and, like any intelligent person, decided it wasn’t even fit
to be used as toilet paper. Now he was re-evaluating his opinion. Clearly
Adolph’s favourite English daily (back in the thirties) aka the world’s worst
paper knew the truth about the immigrants! She was going to steel the fresh
Italian-style foodstuff!
“Look! Take the pizza!
Take the pizza”.
The pizza hit the wall as
she tossed it aside. Toby stood frozen as she tore his dressing gown open. The
pizza delivery girl pressed her body against his, and he felt the cold of her
skin as she kissed his neck. Old memories bubbled up in his mind and he grew
hard in his boxer, tenting against her crotch. She stood back and yanked down
the constricting fabric. Toby’s cock sprang free, to be gripped by cold hands.
He shivered as she pushed down the cheap red trousers of her uniform, and
tugged his cock to her entrance. Toby sat on the edge of the table as she
impaled herself upon him.
“Shit! You’re so cold…” he
told her, as cool tightness enveloped his hard hot manhood. Something was very
wrong, but Toby didn’t have time to think as she pushed him back against the
table and looked hungrily down into his eyes. She thrust against him, hugging
tight, stealing warmth. Soon she would feed. Too long since he’d been with a
woman; Toby’s balls tightened quickly, and he clutched her tightly against him
as she shot his load inside her cool wetness.
“Now I feed!” she cried,
and dropped her mouth to his neck. Canine fangs sprang in her hungry maw, bit
muscular flesh. Toby’s eyes were wide with fear as she bit down hard, draining
his blood as she took his seed. He felt the strength flowing from him into the
pale girl, and as the darkness came he realised what he’d always known: When he
let his guard down, the city would take him. Only alone had he been safe.