The Vampire Eirik

By Alex Stargazer

For Peter, a young, carefree engineering student, Norway means a chance for a better financial future — and the opportunity to see a beautiful landscape of fjords, primeval forests, and windswept peaks. A friendly vampire on the other hand — that’s just an unexpected perk.

Yet the landscape conceals a darkness, a hidden ferocity: nature is older than man, and it does not always welcome him. To survive, Peter will have to rely on Eirik. But Eirik is still a vampire, and nature always wins in the end...

A tale of friendship, intimacy and magic, the Vampire Eirik is a short story that’s perfect for bedtime reading. Readers say they’re “riveted” by “drama” and “exquisite sexual tension”. What will you think?

What readers have said...

5 stars: “I enjoyed the sexual tension between the characters, it was exquisite.”—Margaux, Goodreads Reviewer.

5 stars: “I was riveted to the drama; it is my hope that their story has just begun.” —Teresa, Goodreads Reviewer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alex Stargazer
• Release date: Nov 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463887974

Alex Stargazer

Alex Stargazer is an author of dark, fantastical tales that snare you in with epic world-building—and keep you reading with funny anecdotes and beautiful love stories. He currently hails from rainy Scotland, but he can be found all over Europe. Since publishing his first novel—the Necromancer—at 14, Alex has released two short stories and an upcoming new novel, named Fallen Love. When not establishing the finer points of magecraft or the peculiarities of dragons, Alex is working hard on getting a Master’s degree in boring topics like economics. In his spare time, Alex enjoys exploring the wilderness of Scotland—though Austria, Italy and the Nordic countries fascinate him most. If he really needs to blow off some steam, Alex will shoot zombies in his favourite shooter, Left 4 Dead 2. Alex can be found on Twitter @AlexStargazerWE or on Facebook at Alex Stargazer Writes Books. You can also get a free short story on his website: www.alexstargazer.com

Book preview

Chapter One: Turen

I put on my hiking clothes: the warm, thinsulate skiing coat; the waterproof, efficient trousers; and of course, the boots. Although synthetic, they looked exactly like leather (only sturdier and more practical).

The stairs of the flat—a modern, elegant building, typical of Norway—blurred underneath me. Soon, I was outside, the forest possessing me in its warm embrace; the towering mountains, looking as majestic as they always did.

I sighed, looking at their snow-capped peaks. One of the main reasons I decided to study here in Trondheim was because of the beautiful scenery (and the lack of tuition fees, as well).

Now, I’m studying electrical engineering—not mysticism, religion, or cryptozoology. Never did I expect that I would meet the creature of my dreams.

Eirik, who I now await, is a vampire.

Most people would be shocked at that revelation. I was speechless when I found out. Even then, I still only half believed that such a creature could exist. I certainly didn’t expect him to be the nice guy sitting next to me…

***

The world around me spun slightly; I didn’t keep track of how much I had drunk, but it was a lot. I was in the pub—the word originates from Norwegian, supposedly— with Eirik beside me. He was a tall, heavily built man, even by Norwegian standards. He was so big, in fact, that many of my other friends referred to him as ‘the Bull’. His eyes were a dark, azure blue, like the depths of the sea. His hair was matte and black, reflecting the dull light above—it complemented the black jeans and t-shirt he wore, despite the weather.

I never thought anything of it then. In hindsight, it was such a big giveaway: Norwegians were far too sensible to wear T-shirts on a cold November day. They have a saying, Det finnes ikke dårlig vær, bare dårlige klær, which translates to: There’s no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.

I motioned towards the bartender for another drink. Before he could pour me another one, however, Eirik intervened.

‘Servitør, don’t you think my friend has had enough?’ he asked, speaking English for my benefit. Not that it would have made much of a difference, drunk as I was.

The man—who was tall, yet still dwarfed by Eirik—pursed his lips. He reluctantly went to serve the next customer.

Eirik helped me out of the pub. He had to practically carry me to avoid having me fall over. Responsibility had never been my thing, but there was no doubt this was my worst. It didn’t help that alcohol cost an arm and a leg in this country: the government levied extortionate taxes on drink, to prevent the kind of behaviour I was indulging in right now.

Not that it worked particularly well for me. It seemed like the thousands of pounds I saved going to study here was being thrown out the window through binge-drinking. But why should I be surprised? You can take a Scouse out of Liverpool, but you can’t take Liverpool out of the Scouse.

It didn’t take us long to arrive at Eirik’s car. He had drunk too—maybe just as much as I did—but he didn’t seem affected anywhere near as much as me. I was too drunk to see the strangeness of that.

His car was a large, black coupé; I recognised it as a Mercedes S-class (I’ve always loved cars) though my vision was spinning a little too much to appreciate it further than that. I knew Eirik’s family was wealthy, but this was proper rich.

‘Are you taking me home?’ I asked, hoping my words didn’t slur unduly.

‘No, I think I’ll take you to my place. I don’t want you walking home alone, with the way you are.’

I tried to protest, to say that I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, but then I fell asleep.

I didn’t know how long had passed when I awoke. All I knew was that I had a roaring headache, like a lorry had just gone over me and reversed for good measure.

Underneath me, there was a large bed, which was comfortable, although I had no desire to stay in it much longer. The room was dark, though the steady blinking of electronic lights allowed me to find the door.

I wandered past various doors, looking for a kitchen. Water was what I needed—I felt desperately thirsty, probably because of the alcohol. Fortunately, Eirik’s house wasn’t too large, and I soon found what I was looking for.

Even in the vague light, I could see how contemporary the interior was: the counters were of polished granite; there were gleaming chrome fittings; and it was built in a fashionable isle construction. I spotted the small door that was the fridge and headed for it.

Inside, I expected to find water, maybe some fast-food, perhaps a sandwich or two. What normal people had.

What I didn’t expect was the mounds and mounds of bags. They gleamed under the clinical light of the fridge, clearly illuminating the squishy, red substance inside.

My screams did not take long to reach Eirik.

***

I shook my head; the memory amused me. Truthfully, I never found the concept of drinking human blood that frightening, but the shock had been incredible. It took me days to start talking to Eirik again. But when I did, he told me a lot about himself and his people.

Apparently, Eirik had not been turned a vampire—as certain unreliable teen-fiction suggested—but born one. There were entire families of vampires living in Norway and all around the world; they stayed hidden for thousands of years, wary of persecution. That was cool, if somewhat scary.

But it didn’t stop there. Vampires were said to have existed since the very first cavemen depicted them—perhaps beyond that, deep into human evolutionary history. Although the exact details of their creation were unknown, theories ranged from ideas about prana and new-age mysticism, to human over-dominance requiring a natural predator.

Regardless, all vampires were born, and possessed certain characteristics: small, efficient fangs for hunting; taller, heavier builds than normal humans, and