StephenT (stormwreath) wrote,

(Fic) Back, Foul Fiend!

This ficlet is respectfully dedicated to gabrielleabelle  because of her recent post on religious symbolism in the Buffyverse. It got me thinking... is it only crosses that repel vampires?

743 words, rating 12, all characters are OCs.

Back, Foul Fiend!

The night air brought the warm, rich smell of humanity to Carl's nostrils, making him smile in hungry anticipation. His face crunched into its new shape and his eyes glowed yellow as he came up behind the man walking heedlessly down the street. His victim must have heard his footsteps, because he turned - and his eyes went wide with shock and terror as he saw the demon coming up behind him.

But then - no! He reached into the neck of his shirt and pulled out a crucifix and brandished it in Carl's face! The vampire hissed, stumbling back in fear. He'd been touched by a cross once, and the memory of that burning agony still haunted him. Should he lunge forward anyway, risk the pain, try to knock the hated symbol aside? Maybe he could... but it would hurt. Too risky. There would be easier meals tonight.

Carl snarled angrily, then faded back into the shadows. The Christian breathed a shaky sigh of relief, put away his cross, and walked on.


The next victim he found was a woman, tall and dark-haired. Once Carl might have admired the curves of her body; now he was hungry only for the arteries pulsing just below the skin of her neck. The sound of his footsteps and heavy breathing made her whip around and stare in horror...

And then she reached into the neck of her shirt and pulled out a Star of David! Carl recoiled in automatic reaction, then stared at her in baffled fear. Would the star burn him? He didn't know. He honestly didn't know. But she was staring at him defiantly, mumbling a prayer as she did, and he decided it wasn't worth the risk. He wanted to feed, not to conduct scientific experiments tonight.

He waved his arm in mingled threat and dismissal and faded back into the shadows. The Jew mopped her brow in relief, put away her star, and walked on.


After almost an hour of searching, Carl found another victim. This was a young man with a beard, standing under a streetlamp and reading from a small book. He would occasionally stop, gaze up and down the street and glance at his watch, then go back to reading. Carl smiled hungrily. He probably wasn't the person his victim was waiting for, but that soon wouldn't matter...

As he advanced the man's eyes widened in horror, and he held up his book in front of him as if to ward off the hungry vampire. The streetlamp illuminated the Arabic calligraphy embossed on its cover. Carl prowled forward, then stopped. Surely not? Surely it was just a book, not...? But the man's hands were clutched tightly around it, and the name written on the front seemed to glitter golden in the artificial light, and Carl sighed. Better not to risk it.

He snarled angrily and faded back into the shadows. The Muslim took a deep breath in relief, re-opened his Qur'an and started reading again.


Frustrated and starving, Carl drifted through the city streets. He kept replaying the events of the night, his head buzzing, second-guessing himself. Maybe he could have struck aside the cross. Maybe the star wouldn't have hurt him. Maybe the book was just a book. But maybe not. Maybe he did the right thing? But he was still hungry...

Then he saw her. She was young and cute, probably a college student, her hair dyed in cheerful colours that never were seen in nature. A cruel grin spread across Carl's face. This one didn't look the religious type. This one looked like prey.

He walked up behind her, and she glanced over at him then lowered her eyes and kept on walking a little faster. No frantic fumbling in her pocket, no pulling out a symbol on a chain from around her neck. His smile broadened, and vampire-fast, he stood in front of her.

"Please leave me alone."

He almost laughed aloud. Doesn't work like that, girly. He moved forward, and she just stood there defenceless, and then...

He screamed in immortal agony as his entire body seemed to become wrapped in flames, smoke rising from his tormented flesh, a million needle-points of heat stabbing into him. And just before he exploded into dust, he had time for one last thought:

"But she wasn't holding anything!"

The atheist blinked in disbelief, then stepped over the small pile of dust and continued on her way.

Tags: buffy, fic
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