The Great Vampire Robbery

By Joseph Barone

This is a silly comedy about a fantasy world in which humans are believed to have gone extinct and magical creatures have inherited power in their absence.
How do we know that humans aren't REALLY extinct? Because the Gorgon President has just caught a blood-drinking vampire on safari! And where there's vampires...
The Great Vampire Robbery deals with a troop of incompatible creatures- a shaman, a were-cow, troll and half-wizard to name a few, who seek to kidnap a vampire from the White House in order to find its cache of hidden humans to sell their lucrative blood at a premium.

But things don't always go as planned...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph Barone
• Release date: Aug 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311776839

Joseph Barone

I'm a Brooklyn author with many different likes and styles of writing such as fantasy, Scifi and other speculative genres, horror, etc. I have a passion for the act of writing and a beautiful family, each of which make me paradisiacally happy. My first novel, Harold the Imp, was published last year and I'm currently in the process of working on a sequel. My family is why I write, and they have always been extremely encouraging. I'm in the process of making things happen in the publishing space and looking to grow my brand bigger and better. To that end, I've been putting a couple of things on Smashwords for free so that readers can get a sampling- something that says, "If you liked that even a little, you'll LOVE what this guy can do with his pay books!" That last part was a little cheeky to ensure you were still reading. If you'd like to connect to collaborate, network, or are interested in an editor, ghostwriter, ?pen pal? - Then email me at [e-mail]

Book preview

The Great Vampire Robbery

Copyright 2015 Joseph Barone

Published by Joseph Barone at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 1

Sitting in the waiting room full of people, Roy thought to himself, This is what passes for people these days. There were some goblin and orc families seated fairly far apart from one another, naturally. They were on opposite sides of the room and intent on avoiding eye contact at all costs. Roy never understood why goblins and orcs hated each other so much. They're practically the same, he muttered. At the far wall an orc baby began crying its impish heart out because an elf child took control of the rocking chair they were sharing. Someone stake me now, Roy thought.

Roy was a daywalking vampire, as close as a vampire could get to being a vegetarian. He could walk in the sun during the day, fed on animals, and at times would drain the life energy from other creatures. However, he always asked their permission first, since he was no hunter. Often he fed on girlfriends, and usually they said yes to shut him up. For Roy, feeding from his girlfriends was a quirky sexual endeavor. He is currently single.

It's important to note that the daywalker prefers blood, like any other vamp. In the absence of animal blood, breathing in a person’s qi is fair game to provide a daywalker sustenance. It doesn’t have many calories, or the vampire equivalent, but it holds the vampire over until the next rat or cat or dog. Or chicken.

The other kind of vampire- nightwalkers, the ones in the legend books - were extremely rare. As a matter of fact the current classification for a pure vampire was extinct. Eco-nuts tried for decades to Save The Vampires with no luck. The biggest reason was that their natural prey, namely humans, had actually been wiped out long ago.

Next! the old troll receptionist harumphed.

Finally, Roy thought, acknowledging the orc father seething with envy across the bench. Orcs were never given priority.

When he went into the examination room the shaman, Dr. Jerry Veejay greeted him, Hey Roy, I'm sorry you had to wait so long, I had a lady with the biggest wart you'd ever seen. He made a circle wrapping the palm of his right hand over his left fist. Took a lot of elixirs and balms, smoke and chanting to get rid of it. Hold on a sec, let me clear the rest of my day- Fangra! Cancel the rest of my appointments! Tell them all to go home! he said to the toothless troll receptionist.

Ok, Dr. Veejay, she replied nicely over the phone intercom. Then to the impatient patients, Everyone get the hell ou-- Jerry closed the door on her yelling.

Aren't you required by federal law not to talk about your patients, Jerry?

Well, I didn't tell you Moira's name or anything, Jerry said with a wink, handing Roy a red bottle. By the way, did you notice that goblin father with that elf kid out there? Guess how that happened. I’ll give you a hint- his wife’s ex-boyfriend is an elf, he laughed. Oh lighten up; it's no big deal to talk about patients. It’s harmless. Besides, they can't really enforce that rule. The Bureau of White Magic has enough problems to worry about as it is. Black magic is too accessible, too tempting to people. Too much reward for too little risk. That's part of the reason they got their hands full- they can't recruit top magical talent worth anything. They just can't pay 'em.

Roy took a sip of his red drink in the medical bottle. What the hell is this? Chicken blood?

The shaman tittered and nodded. Well, goat blood is a little pricey for medicinal use. So we use chicken blood as a generic treatment. It’s usually just as good. Time was, all you needed was oil, water, a smoke machine, an egg, and goat blood. Now, all these hexes and spells are getting so damn complicated I have to refer people to sorcerers and witches because they have the specialized skills to fix these things. It's all less money in my pocket, especially with universal healthcare.

Roy nodded as he smacked his lips. This really grows on you.

The shaman looked around his office. So listen. Let me cut to the chase. I know some people who got their hands on human blood. They've been trying to sell it. They have to sell it quick before it goes bad. It's from a really old underground bunker, a 'rainy day' blood bank set up by the old U.S. human government. Before it expires, it'll be good for potions and a few other concoctions. After it expires, you can use it as paint, or a nice sauce. Won't be worth as much. Anyway, are you interested?

Roy considered. Well, you know I never really drank human blood; I don't know what it tastes like or if there are side effects. He took a slow pull from his chicken juice and savored it.

That's right, you're practically a vegetarian! Well, would you go in half with me to buy a shipment? We could sell it on the sly for thousands of dollars. There's a high black market demand. The more time that passes, the more rare human blood is. The rarer it is, the more people are willing to pay for it. Certain spells can only work with viable human blood.

Roy shook his head emphatically, licking his blunt canines after another swig of chicken blood. Who would buy it? The main demographic that would pay are nightwalkers, and they're just as extinct as humans. No one's seen a nighttime vampire in ten years.

The shaman's neck feathers ruffled. Well, I don't know- zombies might enjoy some fresh human blood as a cocktail. Voodoo practitioners might need it in some of their castings. I'm telling you, we could make a fortune at any rate. There would be plenty of interest.

Do you really want human blood falling into the wrong hands, like a dark wizard or something, Jerry? Who knows what it could be used for?

Probably for no good, but that's not my business. My business is to make extra money so I don't have to do this shamanic hocum any more. That's right, I want to retire! I'm half wizard anyway. Wizards can't be stuck in the nine to five rodeo. I need to see the world, go to casinos, bars, drive nice cars, reap the good life.

You? A wizard? Get the hell out of town, Jerry. Do you have any more of this chicken goo? He shook the empty bottle at the shaman.

Hell yes I'm a wizard! And my son is too- he's actually grounded for doing black magic. He's a regular evil Houdini. Once when he was seven, he made me fart frogs, if you can believe that. Another time at nine years old, he overheard my wife complain that I was a wet blanket in bed, and he turned me into a dry blanket. He had no idea what it meant, but his evil little mind made me a piece of linen.

Maybe he's a wizard because your wife's a witch. It could be maternal.

She's no witch! She's a were-cow.

Not a nice thing to say about your wife, Jerry.

Well it's true; I don't give a damn. It’s better than being a witch, anyway. Witches are ugly.

And cows are more your thing?

At that precise moment, the air became thick with smoke. Flashes of light and sparkles of pink fluttered right before their eyes. A 10 inch tall fairy appeared, holding a scroll in her tiny hands. She was dressed in a sparkling purple gown and a mini tiara. As she unfurled the scroll, pixie dust wafted into the noses of Jerry and Roy, prompting kachoos and hachaks, respectively.

She spoke like a mouse whose voice was sped up on a recorder:

The President of the United States of America, Zylex the Gorgon, hereby invites Dr. Jerrold Veejay and two guests to a Presidential Ball at the White House. There will be fine dining, dancing and entertainment. There will also be a rare, once in a lifetime exhibit. There is to be a nightwalking vampire on display, in the flesh, acquired by the President on a safari, at taxpayer expense. And yes, it's alive! Come marvel at the creature before it's slaughtered and served as the main course!

Then, she exploded.

A nightwalker?? Living? That's impossible.

Not impossible, I mean nothing's impossible, right? said Jerry.

Maybe it's a hoax like that fiasco at Madison Square Garden, when those tricksters had a Necromancer in the background manipulate a dead human that was wearing fangs.

Yeah, but maybe it's not...do you know what this means? mused Jerry.

What? replied Roy.

Where there are vampires, there's humans...uncharmed, un-enchanted, and in the flesh. This long, that nightwalker had to have access to a regular supply of them. And where there are humans, there's human blood, right in their precious veins...

Roy scratched his chin. You're right ... fresh human blood. Literally as fresh as can possibly be. Worth a fortune...

There's no way that this is a coincidence. Roy, I think we have a heist to plan. We need to get our hands on that blood! We'll save the creature and then it'll lead us to the humans. This is a perfect opportunity to gain financial independence! You heard what the fairy said- they're going to kill the creature and then the opportunity will be lost!

A heist? said Roy. No way, Veejay.

Oh come on! You’re unemployed. What else do you have to do? Are you scared we’ll get caught?

Hell yeah! How many heists have you planned before this?

"That’s not the point. The point is I won’t have to do this menial labor anymore. You won’t have to drink low grade chicken blood anymore. It’s nothing but royal goat blood from here on in. And, we’ll be stealing a part of history. Not to mention, we'll be saving a vampire. That should speak to you a little. What if it were you in that cage? Come on, what do you say?

Roy scratched his chin. I guess you do have a point. You’re not gonna let me refuse, are you?

No.

Alright fine! No risk, no reward I guess. But I still don’t trust you to plan it. For example- how can we ensure that the nightwalker will lead us to the humans once we free it?

I'll figure it out. I’m a genius.

A harmless one. We need an evil genius. We need your son Damien. He’s gifted.

Jerry turned ashen beneath his striped face paint. Definitely not.

You said yourself he knows black magic very well. We can’t rely on your shaman tricks for any of the heist. And you have three invitations. He’s the perfect choice. A wizard extraordinaire.

Except he’s an egotistical, spoiled brat. He doesn’t work well in groups. Roy started to object but was stifled by a huff from Jerry. We’ll find someone else to help plan, but no black magic. No Damien. Come on. We’ve talked about this too much here. We’ll go elsewhere and figure it out.

Roy followed Jerry out of the room. As they were passing the receptionist, Jerry casually called back, Cancel my appointments for the rest of the week, Fangra. I’m going to be busy.

No sir, doctor. I'm afraid I can't do that.

Jerry and Roy stopped short. They turned back to the old troll, who was making her way towards them, both waddling and stomping.

I want in, she said.

Roy looked at Jerry, who shook his head dramatically. What are you talking about?

The heist, Fangra whispered. I want in.

How did you …

You left the door open a crack. And you yell when you talk, I don’t know if you know that. It’s impossible not to overhear you, even for me.

Jerry shook his foot nervously. You can’t come. You’re too … big. And clumsy to be involved. Sorry.

This big clumsy troll’s gonna sit on you if you don’t count me in. I can contribute, you know. I’m smarter than the average troll. And I’m strong.

We can’t talk about this here, whispered Roy. It might be unsafe. We might be overheard by the patients of the other shamans that are still here.

The entire waiting room was looking at them. Jerry stammered and turned a lovely shade of green. Roy shifted behind Fangra, who turned to the crowd in her grumbliest voice and said while hopping, AHHHHH! My crazy medicine’s not working! Also, I want to eat a goblin like, all the time, do you know what that feels like?

The biggest demographic in that part of town was goblin, so most of the waiting room was full of them. They became skittish at the increasingly agitated troll thundering and thrashing about. And like that they were gone. No protest. No violence. Even the other shamans quick-stepped out of there. The three conspirators were left alone in the office.

She’s good, said Roy. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to let her in.

But she’s so ugly, said Jerry.

I’m right here you ass.

No offense meant, Fangra, Jerry said, but I think it seems a little weird to bring a troll to the President’s Ball.

Have you seen his wife? Fangra cried to Roy, almost as a plea.

Disguise her, said Roy. You could turn her into another creature. Something beautiful, right?

That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard, said Jerry. Even if I did make her look like something else, I’d have to spend the whole evening by her side, keeping up the spell. It’s too impractical. And my magic isn’t exactly the best.

Roy smiled slowly. You can’t do it, can you?

Jerry turned on him sharply. I never said that.

Roy nudged Fangra. He didn’t have to.

Jerry pushed past them and made his way to the back office.

Where are you going? Roy asked.

To summon my son.

Roy and Fangra hurried after Jerry. Roy closed the office door behind him, even though the floor was empty. If they were really going to do this, they had to be careful. Jerry stuck his head in one of the cabinets and pulled out a crystal ball. He put it between his hands, and it started to float. The ball became cloudy as Jerry began chanting to it. Minutes passed. Slowly, a face began to appear.

What do you want old man? it said. And why couldn’t you just use your cell phone? It took me forever to find my crystal ball.

I need you to come to my office Damien.

"No can do. All