Organ music swells as the camera pans in on the dark, ornate coffin. Ominous creakings and cracklings arise, getting louder in time with the rising strains of the organ crescendo. Suddenly, a <CRACK> as the coffin lid is thrown wide, revealing the darkened velvet and lace within.
And the face. But especially, the eyes. Reddened, glowing, magnetic; the creature within the coffin smiles, revealing long, sharp eyeteeth. “At last”, it begins, “my years of planning, my decades of slumber, all of that gathering power, at last!”
Evil laughter fills the chamber. “I LIVE!” comes the triumphant exclamation from the creature, “Fear and tremble before me, all who walk the earth, for I LIVE!”
“Yeah, yeah”, says the nasally-toned voice from off-camera, “yeah you live. You and all the others. Here. Take these.”
The camera view swings and the refocuses on a simple longbow and quiver of arrows.
“Err, what?” booms the newly-raised vampire?
“You live. I get it. We all get it. Now grab your bow and get out to the Orchard. You’re scheduled for aimless milling about in 20 minutes.”
“What is this, foul knave! Fear me! I am the mighty Vampire!”
“Yes, yes, mighty vampire. Now get your bow and get out there! The others are already in place. You’re the third archer on the left.”
The vampire visibly struggles for understanding. “Where is my dark cloak? Where are my rich jewels? Where are the pale but noble ladies with ample bosoms who will swoon at my hypnotic gaze and offer their throats before me?”
“You’re not that kind of vampire”.
Confusion reigns. The vampire sits up in the coffin, looking about bewilderingly. “Am I the kind of vampire that glows in the sunlight? That inspires beautiful young ladies to join me in eternal life? That sleeps with Kristen Stewart?”.
“No. Not that kind either.”
“Oh no! I’m not the kind of vampire that sucks on rats and hangs out with Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt am I? It’s so hot in New Orleans, I … I get a rash.”
“No, you’re not any of those kinds of vampire.”
“But all those sacrifices! And the rituals! And those many years of lonely sleep! I am supposed to be a vampire!”
“And you are. A vampire. Specifically, a Vampiric Sharpshooter. Now get your bow and get out there and get busy milling about! You’re already late”.
Dejectedly, the mighty vampire slips out of the coffin. With slumped shoulders, he picks up the bow, and slides the quiver onto his back. Head hung low, he sadly shambles off-camera.
“Don’t forget!” yells the nasal voice after the vampire, “third archer on the left!”
The organ is still. Silence reigns as the scene fades to black.
🙂 😀 🙂