Week 13 Storytelling: Vlad the Warlock Slayer

Vlad grunted as he hefted the wood higher over his shoulder. He’d finally gotten all of it chopped, and this was his last bit to throw on the pile before he’d be able to go inside and get some breakfast. Thank God, he was starving!

Making breakfast was short work (he’d had to perfect the talent years ago, after his mother died - no way was his father going to cook) and Vlad got to eating as the tell-tale crash signaled his father had woken up.

Now, his dad wasn’t a mean man per se, but he was a warlock, and most warlocks tended to be a little… off. The man was clumsy when he just woke up, hated crosses (absolutely none were allowed inside the house), and always wore some kind of grey wool.

Yeah, he was weird.

Vlad glanced up as the man entered the room, dragging something behind him. With a sigh, the tall young man started to rise in order to help when he got a clear view of the object:

It was a coffin.

Vlad fell back down on his butt in shock. What is he doing dragging a coffin out of his room?

The noise alerted his father, who noticed him with a wide grin. “My boy!” he called cheerfully. Vlad felt his brows furrow as worry began to gnaw at his sinking gut. The warlock dropped the coffin where it was and started walking over. “Well, nearly a man, really. If you weren’t so focused on taking care of me you’d be a married man, off in the world already!”

Dear God, not this again, Vlad thought. They’d had this conversation more times than he could count. It’s too early for this. “Really, Father,” Vlad protested, getting together a plate for the man - food was generally the best way to shut the guy up - for a skinny man he sure could eat. “It’s no problem.”

“Ah, my sweet child,” his father replied. The warlock came up to take the plate from him, and then set it aside.

The sinking in his gut got worse. This couldn’t possibly be good.

“I am getting to the age where I will no longer be among the living,” the warlock stated. “I worry for you, what with your refusing to marry and the obsession with vampires.”

“They’re real,” Vlad murmured his protest. He had no idea how his father could be a warlock, a man of the occult, and not think vampires were real.

Graciously, the man ignored him. “But your army pension won’t last forever my boy, not for any comfortable living, anyway.”

Vlad very much doubted that. He’d spent six years as a soldier and saved the life of the Czar’s son. He could quit his job at the smithy whenever he wanted.

“And so, I thought of the best option!” Good, his father was finally getting to the point. The man opened the coffin lid with a flourish, revealing a silk interior stuffed with gold. Vlad had to rub his eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on him. Nope, still shiny.

His father preened in the face of Vlad’s obvious shock. “I have amassed this over the years. I wanted to take it with me into the next life, but if you can outdo my cunning then I’ll let you have it.”

And there was the catch. Vlad got to his feet and turned to his father, wary. “How exactly am I to do that?” he queried. His father had always been the smart one, but the man had a vicious streak a mile wide.

The warlock smiled, all teeth. Vlad could never remember that smile being quite so frightening. “Why, a fight to the death of course!”

A moment passed, two, as Vlad stood there staring at his father in disbelief.

Finally, he stated, “No.”

His father pouted. “But if you outwit my cunning, you’ll gain all my riches!”

“The game is you trying to kill me!”

“And?”

“......... That is so not fair - you’re a terrible father.”

The warlock frowned. “No need to speak to me so, I’m giving you a generous opportunity here.”

Vlad was about to protest that no, a warlock against a normal human being (military career notwithstanding) was certainly not a fair or generous thing, but before he could speak his father charged.

Vlad nearly jumped out of his skin as his father’s took on a grey cast and a rotten stench filled the air. His father was already dead! When did that happen?

Panicked shock was soon overridden with instinct, and Vlad pulled his cross from beneath his shirt and hit his father in the head with it. With a mighty wheeze, the warlock fell and died. Well, died again. Un-died?

Vlad sighed and went over to the other side of the room to take a seat while he calmed his racing heart. Well, now he had a dead warlock father who was previously undead and a coffin full of gold.

Next time the guys at work call me paranoid for my vampire attack preparations, they won’t be able to deny it saved my life.

(Steve Rodgers being sexy in Avengers 2 released clip. Web source: Movie pilot)



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes: So I really loved this week’s readings, and couldn’t help but to expand on my small bit of dialog written as ‘notes’ for The Warlock in my reading diary. In the original story the father is already dead, and the daughters-in-law are required (one at a time) to sit in the room with the coffin at night, wear no cross, and spin grey-wool for a caftan. The father gets out of the coffin, asks if they followed instructions, and then kills them. The third (and last) daughter-in-law is smart and brings a cross anyway, which she uses to kill the warlock. They find his coffin full of gold - apparently he wanted to take it with him or only give it to someone who could outsmart him. I also added in bits from The Soldier and the Vampire because I could (mainly, that he’s a soldier who’s fought vampires). This is largely just me playing around, hope you guys enjoyed it.