u/GothicVampyreQueen

Hi,
A few months ago, I lost a pair of tinted glasses. They’re not sunglasses, but they go tinted when in bright light. I think they’re dark green in colour, or at least green anyway. They’re Morell ones, but I doubt that they actually have the brand written on the actual glasses themselves.
I don’t work and I’m not in education, so I wouldn’t have left them anywhere like that. I’ve called a taxi company (how am I supposed to know what date and time I left them in the taxi when it was months ago and I don’t even know that they were left in a taxi?). I’ve also been and checked in the Vue cinema a couple of times, and I’ve also checked the Odeon…
I will also be looking into reporting them as missing on Stagecoach and also to Frankie’s Taxis.
I’ve now got some lost property apps on my phone. Does anyone else have any tips?
Thanks.

Hi, sorry for not sharing much context here, i had to share this in a hurry. We've been collecting clues and traces on internet for reporting authorities for an animal torture ring based in Turkey known as c31k. We found some clues but still need someone's help in technical matters such as cybersecurity OSINT etc. Is there anyone willing to help us?

https://preview.redd.it/9uia4rtqhmsh1.png?width=679&format=png&auto=webp&s=28f10e13b0c1b584c95a1f8a49d9cd1fbd461ef3

Bonus if it’s also one that happens to be struggling financially or due to close!
Thanks and have a great day and night everyone!

Hi,
I’m saddened by the loss of all our Brewer’s Fayres and Beefeaters…
I was wondering if there were any Exeter businesses, including restaurants, pubs, shops, etc, that are at risk of closing that I could maybe go and support. And then maybe leave a positive review for it (if I feel they’re any good) and also promote them online…
Thanks.

Just downloaded Hidden Springs. I had to buy 5,000 SimPoints for £24 from the store to get it. I still have some left over, so I might buy another world or anything else I like as well…
Anyhow, just created my first couple (who might end up having just one baby, if I play with them again - that’s all I want when it comes to kids, at least this time). My man sim is employed in Architectural Design. He was out on a job when I had the glitch where, in build mode, most of the options where it shows you under design/build by room or by purpose, the options had mostly been cut off or like faded out of the graphics, and then I also couldn’t get back to live mode, or buy mode, for that matter. I also couldn’t access the options, like to save/quit, etc. So I was just thinking that, sadly, there wasn’t really much that could be done other than to just minimise the game and shut down the computer, and lose everything (I hadn’t saved previously). But then I just thought I’d Google it to see if there was anything that could be done. And Google’s AI told me that pressing the F1, F2, F3, etc, buttons can sometimes get your game out of a glitch. So by the grace of Gemini (and Google, and God), my sims’ entire existences, as well as their house (a bungalow) and all the work my man sim had done on other sims’ houses, were all saved! 😮‍💨 😰 😥 😅
Btw, is this a common thing that tends to happen when renovating somebody else’s house in Architectural Design?
Thanks and have an amazing day and night!

Hi,
So, yeah, it’s not a problem with the game or anything, it’s more of a “me problem,” if you can call it that…
I’ve been trying to complete this kind of personal challenge/goal of mine for about two years or more, but I can never quite do it just because I start a challenge like this, get fed up part way through and my brain craves something new or gets a new idea for a new sim/household, and then I never end up completing it.
I know the point of the game is to enjoy it, but it’s still something I get a tad frustrated/disappointed with myself over…
Does anyone else here ever get frustrated over little, tiny things like this when it comes to personal challenges like that on our beloved game?
Thanks.
🤷‍♀️ 😔 😞 😠 😒 🤷‍♀️

Hi,
For the last year and a bit, or two years, maybe, I’ve not been able to successfully save properly the normal way. I’m able to save normally for the first, initial save, but always after that, I’ve had to go “Save As” and then rename the saved game as something slightly different (I usually go with the OG name and then just add consecutive numbers, e.g 2, 3, etc). Because I have this personal “tradition” of naming the game saves after the last name of the household that they were each specifically created for, I tend to just keep the last name of said household and then just add the consecutive numbers after that (the first save doesn’t usually have the number 1, much like the title of a first movie wouldn’t have the number 1, lol 😂). However, this means that my poor computer’s storage space for all the files quickly gets full, and this often results in cursing when I come into the game the next time to find that my beloved sim/household and all the subsequent progress didn’t save properly and I’ve lost everything! 🤬 🤦🏻‍♀️ 😩 😫 😂 😝 😜
This has been going for quite a while now, and it would be nice to get some answers as to why my game/computer does this and how I can get it back to saving properly, the conventional way, I mean, instead of having to have umpteen different game saves clogging up my computer and causing it all to not save properly! When this happens, btw, after/during all the cursing and upset, I usually go into the files and delete some of the older game save files, which is kind of a bit sad, but sometimes some need to go in order for new ones to be started…
P.S Does anyone else have any personal sims “traditions” like naming all the game saves after the last name of the household that you created the game save for, or that you played with first under that game save? 🤨 🤔 🧐
Thanks for any help you can give me. This has been going on for far too long unsolved, and I have lost way too many game saves, so thanks in advance for any advice/help you can give me, as well as for any answers as to why this is happening…

In WWDITS, Nandor is definitely what I would class as an idiot. I mean, I get that he’s so out of touch with modernity due to his time period that he was born/raised/turned in, but even Nadja and Colin (and I think they are are bit younger than him, in terms of hundreds of years) seem to have more wits about them and more knowledge about the modern world (as well as various other topics, in Colin’s case). Laszlo is also not much brighter. 😂 😂 😂 😂
However, how do you think they both compare to the random vampire that I once came across on “The Sims 3” that was out running around in the park in the sun, in broad daylight, probably with no vampiric sunscreen or umbrella, of course? 😂 😂 😂 😂
P.S I actually really took a liking to that vampire and ended up taking him in and marrying him! He was such a lovable idiot! 😂 😂 😂 😂

Despite what everyone has been saying online, I still went to see the new “Animal Farm” animated movie, thinking, “It’s “Animal Farm”, it’ll still be worth seeing, as that’s one of my favourites of all classic literature…”
Load of crap! Absolute disgrace to Orwell and “Animal Farm”! That being said, the second half/three quarters was better… Still though…

1. They gender-swapped Snowball! Snowball is supposed to be male, not female (a boar/gilt, not a sow)! If they wanted to just show more female characters, they could’ve just given us more of Molly, Clover, the hens, the cows and Mr Jones’ wife.
2. ⁠Boxer mentioned being the only horse on the farm. Seriously? Molly and Clover?
3. ⁠They made into a goofy, children’s comedy. The real “Animal Farm” is supposed to be, and always will be, a brutal political satire/allegory.
4. ⁠No Mr Pilkington, just Mrs Pilkington (Glenn Close’s character).
5. ⁠No Old Major! Why?! 😭 😩 😫
6. ⁠WAY too much tech, pop culture and childish comedy! Pigs with headphones/smartphones?! I know the pigs are smart, but I’m pretty sure they weren’t invented when Orwell wrote the book…
7. ⁠Not even a single mentioning of the words “rebellion” or “revolution”, as far as I can recall…
8. ⁠No battles with Mr Jones or the other men. No actual revolution shown.
9. ⁠No destruction of the windmill.
10. ⁠As far as I can recall, they didn’t actually show the pigs drinking alcohol. Also, “naughty juice”? Do they really think that kids (at least older kids) are that stupid that they don’t even know what alcohol is?

I am so looking forward to the upcoming horror-comedy about Buddy the unicorn. I really hope that they don’t anything daft/random like deciding not to release it in the cinemas in the UK. I know I can still possibly watch it on streaming, but I just love going to the cinema, even though it’s expensive…
Anyhow, the makers have obviously been doing a REALLY good job of portraying it as being from an actual tv show from the 90’s, but I have yet to find any evidence of this being an actual show through searching online. And I was born in 1995 and certainly can’t remember it! 😂 😁
When I google it, the first result that comes up is from the Wikipedia page for the upcoming movie, saying about Buddy the unicorn being the main host of his once popular TV show “It’s Buddy!”
I have also read that it’s inspired by/loosely based on “Barney the Dinosaur,” but I have yet to find anything about a kids show about Buddy the unicorn…
Also, if anyone knows whether it will be released in the UK, that’d be great!
Thanks.

Before I put the excerpt in, I will state that I know there’s some grammatical errors and words left out. The work isn’t even finished yet, let alone proofread, lol…
\*\*The Vampire Farm\*\*
By Victoria Salter.

As I rushed across the shiny, golden-red wooden floor of my parents’ hall (my hall, our hall), I run over everything I needed in my head. School lunch money and purse. Check. School bag. Check. Leather jacket. Check. Juice bottle. Check. Sweets for the vampires (and myself). Check. Enough money for cat food for later on. Check. Comic book that I wanted to show Hawk. Check. Enough money for scratch cards. Check. The only thing I didn’t have, of course, was the right age to be buying scratch cards. I was only 14. I did, however, look about 15 or 16, and could pass as 18 at an incredibly large push. Besides, I was, as my mum used to say, a cheeky and deceitful shite. I had my ways. I like to think of myself as the hero of this story, but I was no moral goddess; unbeknownst to my parents, or to anyone else, for that matter, I had been known to just casually swipe the odd scratch card by putting it into my handbag or purse, or “permanently borrow” items from my parents or schoolmates. One time, I even “acquired” one of Mr Jackson’s rubbers, which happened to be on his desk.
I bid good-bye to my parents, who, in turn, said good-bye and wished me a good day. Prince, our big, ginger-and-white Maine Coon cat was sitting on the welcome mat by the front door, so I patted him and said bye and told him I’d see him later, and that I would try to remember to buy cat food for him.
I wouldn’t say I hated school. Rather, I saw school as a neutral thing, a system of both positive and negative events and dynamics. I hated maths, and I was never very good at it either. Plus, my maths teacher was a prick. The only science I really cared for was biology, but I refused to take part in dissections. Something just didn’t sit right with me about using animal life for that purpose. I loved English and art, though. I have given a little thought as to what I might do when I grew up; I had thought about becoming a writer, or even just scraping a living with my vegetarian cooking skills. I also liked cooking, you see.
What I really wanted to do, however, was to continue working in the field that I already worked in; working with vampires! Yes, you read it right; I worked with vampires, but not as colleagues, though. They were, much to my grief, kept as slaves, tortured and slaughtered by the man known as Hawk. Hawk Roverson, to be more precise. I hated for them to be mistreated in the way that they were, but I saw my work as a way to help them, to be there for them before they were killed, and try to advocate for them and even liberate them.
One that I did manage to save (hopefully) was called Harry. He never gave away his last name - he had been conned by his full name being given away by seemingly friendly neighbours and betrayed. He had a great sense of humour, even through the greatest hardship of his entire 500-year lifetime. He was no saint, however - he admitted that he had killed people back before the sale of blood was invented. Of course, now, the business of selling one’s own blood to vampires was banned and so had to be underground. The Government banned it for two reasons; one, to prevent the taking of blood for non-consenting people, especially with blood-drinking being so instinctual and such a biological need for vampires, and two, because of the vampires’ legal status as pests. It was done to try and deprive vampires and also benefit the work of the vampire hunters, like Hawk. The only blood allowed to be sold for vampire consumption was  for the vampire hunters to use to make vampire poison.
Most vampires, however, did use only the illegal, ethically sourced blood rather than killing to live, as most modern vampires are actually misunderstood and are actually moral and kind. In fact, unbeknownst to most humans, the Vampire Council had issued a law back in 1960 to criminalise any vampire that killed or took blood or energy from non-consenting people. Most vampires also chose to avoid killing animals for their blood.
However, attacks did still happen and these were sensationalised, especially locally. The old horror stories, such as “Dracula”, also caused people to be scared of vampires and think of them as evil.
I, however, knew better; I saw them as friends, as lovely creatures and as equals. But most people didn’t; even my parents were apprehensive about my working with them at first, until they realised that either Hawk or any of the four other, human workers would always be with me on the vampire farm.
As for how the vampires ended up there, well, it was a mix. Some were captured, some were betrayed. Some even were deemed useful and good enough to be brought there after being rounded up at any of the places that had become caught in the hysteria of having a “vampire infestation.”
I usually thought of all the poor vampires throughout most of my day at school. I would often doodle pictures of bats, of made-up vampire characters and of actual vampires on my school books, to which my teachers’ reactions ranged from discerning or concerned looks to even bringing it up at parents’ evening one time (thanks, Mr Jackson!)
After school, I would walk for about two miles through the country lanes  the vampire farm. Roverson’s Vampires.
I expect you’re probably wandering what the point of keeping vampires alive (or, rather, undead) at a farm would be to a vampire hunter. The vampire hunters do generally enjoy torturing them, but they are also used for a chemical in their blood used in everything from medicines to even cosmetic products and also for their skins, which are used for rugs (or pelts), handbags, accessories and even clothing like gloves and socks.
Vampire skin is super soft, silky and always paler than when the vampire in question had been human. It is possible for a black person to become a vampire and still retain their blackness, but their skin would be at least slightly paler than it had been when they were human.
I loved spending time with the vampires. I had particularly taken a liking to a certain vampire named  Paul Ackerson. He liked his first name, but he kindly and laughingly allowed me to affectionately call him Pal, as that was truly what he was to me. In fact, my relationship with Pal wasn’t even just friendship; it was love. At that age, I wasn’t sure that it was romantic love, but it was almost more like family love, or like the love you’d have for an animal companion. And it felt even more important to me because, at the time, my parents had been arguing more and more. But I had to keep a lot of this love between him and I; I couldn’t risk Hawk finding out and potentially giving me the sack. I do, however, doubt that Hawk would’ve sacked me; he seemed to have taken a liking to me, if not for my still obvious sentiment for the vampires. Although it may seem cruel, I sensed that the real reason why he sometimes coerced me into working extra hours was, in fact, because he liked me and he would get lonely otherwise, after all of the other staff had gone. He used to bribe me with extra pay. I never told my parents about this; I would always just say that I chose to work extra hours in my labour of love, helping the vampires. I knew that, if I told them the truth, they might demand I quit or report Hawk for child labour. And there would go my opportunities to care for the vampires and help as many of them escape as possible (on many occasions, I had been known to casually leave the doors to the vampires’ cells unlocked and leave the doors and the back gate unlocked, with a wink to the vampires trapped on the farm, and then leave an anonymous note of illegal sabotage from “the vampire rights people” on any of the desks in any of the three buildings where the vampires were housed)! Besides I didn’t want to create tensions between my parents and Hawk.
After school assembly had finished, I hurried out of the main school and out of the school car park. I then hurried along my usual route past some houses and then under the bridge by the station, across the pavement, up past the usual pubs, past the graveyard, down Moorview Road and then along some country lanes. Eventually, I saw the familiar place; Roverson’s Vampires. I heard the oh-so familiar and most heartbreaking sound of screaming in pain. Yep, it was a poisoning day, and it sounded as if only a couple of vampires were being tortured to death. With a gulp and a gasp, I rushed to the slaughter chamber. I unlocked the door and swung it open.
The two vampires, both behind the bars of the actual kill pen in the slaughter chamber, glanced towards me, amidst their anguish and pain. The extra-strong chains were still on floor and clattered as I walked into them, and the plastic instrument used to force the poison down the throat of non-compliant vampires was right next to them. Actually, the non-compliance of the vampires who were wise to the poisoning and strong enough to resist their instincts around the blood was referred to as “bait shyness” by vampire hunters, but that’s for later on.
Hawk was sat there, on a bench in front of the kill pen, watching with glee and great pleasure as the vampires struggled. I did the only thing I could think to do.
“Really sorry to interrupt your viewing, Hawk,” I said to him, trying my best to show urgency in my voice. “I’ve just been told to inform you that a vampire has gotten loose from Block B.” I attempted an uncomfortable face, in order to try to keep this believable, as Hawk definitely had his suspicions about my attitude towards the vampires. Still, though, when he looked at me suspiciously, I could pick up on his vibe. He was clearly thinking that it would be better to be safe than sorry and give me the benefit of the doubt. He got up, ever so reluctantly, huffing as he did so, and left the slaughter chamber.
That was him dealt with. Now, I only had to find the key to the kill pen. I searched around the room with my eyes. I was not actually looking for the key, but rather I was looking for a place where I thought Hawk might’ve hidden it.
Panic! I had the thought that he might actually keep them in his pocket!
As I searched the room, my eyes met with the two vampires. There was one male and one female, and they were now both on the floor, still screaming and crying in pain.
I then had a beaming idea. What if he kept the key in his office? He had a drawer in his desk that he kept locked. But then I’d have to find the key to unlock the drawer! And Hawk might be in the office!
All I could do was try. “Look,” I said to the vampires. “It’s gonna be okay. I know you might not believe me, I’m human, but I’m a friend. I’m just gonna go and look for the keys to the pen.
The vampiress struggled to speak. Then, wearily, the dying vampiress began to try to speak. “He took them with him. He put them in his pocket after he locked us in.”
Bummer! Oh, well, I still had to try. So, I went Hawk-hunting. I checked the whole yard as fast as I could. I then thought back to Hawk’s office and rushed there as fast as my teenage legs could carry me.
There they were! Led on Hawk’s oak desk, which also served as a reception desk - yes, the vampire farm had a reception desk! Hawk and his staff still needed to talk to people who turned vampires in, of course! The metal keys lay, as a much-needed prize, upon that desk, and I seized them as quickly as I could, rushed out the door, allowing it to slam behind. I then cantered off right across the yard and back into the slaughter chamber. I then quickly unlocked the pen and went in and started stroking and cuddling the vampires. I remembered reading that salt water would cause any vampire that drank it to be sick and regurgitate all that they had consumed, be it blood or anything else. But where was I gonna get salt water from at the vampire farm?
Then, I had an idea; Patrick, one of the other staff members, was always bringing in salt in his lunchbox to season whatever weird and wonderful gastronomic delight he had brought in to eat in his lunch break. I could then use my water bottle and fill it with water from one of the taps and mix in the salt. Only thing was, Patrick’s lunch break was two hours ago! What if he had used up all the salt?
I cantered off, once again, towards the office building. In the lunch room, which was the next room along from Hawk’s desk, I saw Patrick’s open lunch box, left on the table. I looked in it, and there, in one of the compartments, beside a used salt sachet that hadn’t been disposed of, was unopened salt sachet! My prize! I kept my water bottle on the shelf in that same room, and there was a water fountain in the room. I grabbed my empty water bottle and filled it halfway at the fountain. I then added the salt and mixed it around with my hand, before securing the lid back on and cantering out of the room, out of the office, across the yard and into the slaughter chamber. I noticed the two vampires still lying there on the floor. They were now motionless, but obviously still alive (well, alright then, undead), as proven by the groans and cries of pain. I approached the vampiress first and opened her mouth before pouring about half of the saltwater in and forcing it down her throat and stroking her throat. Her eyes shot back to vitality as she got up and began barfing.
I then moved on to the male vampire and did the same thing. His eyes also came back to vitality, and he got up into a crouching position and began throwing up the poison (and just about everything else he had consumed for about the last three weeks!)
The vampiress began to speak. “You barely saved our lives! We are forever grateful!”
“Come on,” I said, urgently, as I beckoned them both to stand. I supported them to walk out of the slaughter chamber and all the way to the entrance. Then, they seemed okay to walk by themselves again, having stopped throwing up and regained a lot of their strength with walking. I unlocked the gate and ushered them out.
“Bye,” the male vampire called. “And thank you so much!”
“How can we ever repay you?” the vampiress asked, sounding ever-so relieved.
“Don’t worry about it! You better get outta here now! Bye!”
“Goodbye,” she called back, as she and her companion left for good.
I wandered back up to Hawk’s office. There, behind the desk, sat a very angry-looking Hawk. “You lied to me!” he shouted. “You fucking ruined my fun! Lemme tell ya something! Would you like it if one of those blood-sucking vermin got you?!”
I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. I was just messing around. I’ll get back to work now.”
“You had better! Roisin, this is your last warning! You know, I have zero tolerance for vampire sympathisers!”
I feigned shock and disgust at being called such a thing. “I’m not a vampire sympathiser! Now, do you have any other jobs I can do?”
Hawk shook his head, muttering the word “no”. “You can, uh, go and get your stuff together. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He frowned. I assumed that one of the other staff members had told him that we had been raided by vampire rights activists again.
I decided to head in to visit Pal in Block A. I unlocked the door latch and plodded in solemnly. I noticed that Pal was in there on his own. He looked the picture of sadness and solemnity, his head down and deep in thought, and a look of brokenness on his face.
“Hello there,” I greeted, trying to cheer him up. “What happened to all of the others?”
He shuck his head. “Think they took them to block C.” He took a long pause, as his doleful eyes gazed into mine. He smiled at me briefly, happy to have someone who cared nearby. Then, he went back to his solemn expression. “You remember that story I told? About Marilyn, the vampiress who was found staked in the barn in the field in Croaker’s Lane? I wish someone would just stake me so that I won’t have to suffer this - this despair, this terror, this…” He paused for thought. “This guilt, of surviving. And then the pain.” He paused again, extremely sadly and solemnly. “But they won’t do that. You know what my fate will be.” He sighed.
The only reasons I hadn’t already freed him were that Hawk always kept the keys to all the cages in his trouser pockets, and that Hawk would only suspect me even more and he could fire me, and then that would be the end of this great opportunity to help as many vampires as possible. However, I looked into Pal’s eyes once again, lovingly and seriously. “Now, you listen here. I’m gonna get you out of here. You’re not gonna die in here if I can help it! That’s a promise.”
“But you’ll get into trouble!”
“”Trouble” is my middle name! I’ll be all right, don’t you worry! I’ll do my best for all of you vampires! You know, this is going to sound weird, but my heart truly does beat for you, for all of you! I’ll get you out! A promise is a promise! Now, goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow, and don’t worry!”
Pal smiled. I could tell he felt very close and loving towards me, not in a creepy or inappropriate way, but in a nice, family kind of way. “Goodbye,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
That night, I was so filled with anxiety that I barely ate anything. Throughout the evening my parents kept pressing me and asking what was wrong, but I refused to open up to them. What if they didn’t understand? They weren’t vampire lovers. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about this at school either, such was my society’s view on vampires. The only people I could talk to about this were Pal and the other vampires, and they were the ones that needed the help! How were they supposed to have any answers? Surely if they had any ideas about how I could get them out, they would’ve already told me, or tried to get out by themselves?
After much mulling over it over night and little sleep, I decided to leave my parents a note about what I was going to do. After all, they were my parents, and they weren’t as anti-vampire as some people were. What harm could it do?
I then quickly got dressed and did my teeth before my mum did my hair ready for school. I then quickly downed a bowl of cornflakes and soy milk and a glass of orange juice before heading off on my way to school.
Why did school have to get in the way of everything? I just wanted to help the vampires!
As soon as school had finished, I rushed off on my usual route to the vampire farm as fast as my 14 year-old legs could carry me. I then pushed open the gate and hurried into Pal’s block. I knew that Hawk may have wanted me to do something, but Pal was more important now.
I pushed open the unlocked door and looked into Pal’s cell. Usually, he would still be sleeping right now, but today, my vampire was nowhere to be seen! I then heard a yelp!
My heart was beating like a zillion beats a second! I rushed out, of the block, almost crying. Without thinking, I yelled “Pal!”
I then began frantically searching the entire farm! I began to hear more pain-filled cries. I decided to follow them. They led me to the wall of the slaughter chamber.
There, Pal was being held in chains and lashed with whips with sharp ends by a couple of other workers whom I, my eyes in tears, didn’t recognise.
“Leave him the fuck alone!” I hollered, getting involved. Usually, Pal was not helpless, but he was heavily restrained by chains. I grabbed one of the men’s hands. He slapped me hard with the other, but I punched him. I managed to knock the two men away.
I looked around to see that we were not alone. Hawk was there. Uh oh.
“That’s enough!” He snapped loudly. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m saving a life! It’s not right!”
“These vampires are dangerous! They’re evil! They’re fucking child-killing, undead demons!”
“That’s not true! They’re people, just like us! They’re just of a different subspecies, a different nature, a different…”
“These dangerous beasts have killed hundreds of humans!”
“That’s not true!”
“This one’s going to be slaughtered! Get the fuck off of my property before I do the same thing to you!”
“I’m not leaving without Pal!”
There was a pause.
“I’ll pay you!”
Of course, I didn’t believe in the slavery of vampires, but I was prepared to pay for one if it meant saving their life. I didn’t have the money on me; I held a couple thousand in the building society, or so my parents said. I knew that the price of a live vampire of Pal’s perceived “quality” was going to be around £400, but his skin could’ve been much more.
“How’re you gonna pay for a bloody vampire?” Hawk asked.
“I have lots of money in my building society,” I told him. “I can offer £400, if need be.”
He smiled wickedly. £400 was a lot of money; a lot of money to buy more equipment, another vampire off of another farm, or perhaps another werewolf hunting dog.
On the other hand, this was a vampire that deserved to be made into a pelt, and his could sell for £600 or so. Yet, he still smiled, for he actually, deeply down, liked this little girl before him.
“Alright,” he chuckled, having lost his anger. “I tell you what. You pay me £400 and work off the rest by working for free. But, if that vampire gets away from you, he’s fair game again.”
Well, that was that sorted, for now at least. Pal was safe, and I kept my work here.
Hawk walked over to Pal, who tried to back away. I looked at Hawk, stern and concerned. He just smiled as he undid Pal’s chains.
I was excused for the rest of the day on the promise that I would work extra over the weekend.
You should’ve seen my parents’ faces when I came in with Pal! “Who’s this?” Mum asked.
“Mum, Dad, please don’t be too alarmed,” I began, as I noticed the horror still present upon both of their faces. “This is Pal. He’s like another parent to me, a great friend. I love him. I saved him from slaughter today.”
My mum and dad had known of my love of vampires for a while now. I could tell.
“But dear, it could eat you! It could-“
“Please don’t say it! And he won’t! He’s lovely! He will just feed off of the blood of consenting donors who sell it. There’s a vampire shop in town. That’s what most vampires do. They’re not the evil demons we have been led to believe.”
“That’s right,” Pal chimed in. “I would do anything to protect your daughter.”
“Creepy!” Mum yelled. “You’re much older than her!”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “He won’t hurt me.”
“Okay, but if he shows any signs of bloodlust or wanting to harm you-“
“He won’t!”
“Where will he sleep?” Dad asked.
“Do we still have my old wardrobe? The one that grandad made that had that crack on the side?”
Dad nodded. “It’s in the garage.”
“We can use that. We’ve got some spare bedding, haven’t we?”
Dad nodded again.
“We can leave it in the garage as well. It’s nice and dark and cobwebbed. The sun can’t get in. It’s perfect for a vampire.”
“Great, I suppose you now need us to go to that vampire shop and get some blood for your friend. Will they still be open now?”
I laughed a bit. Parents can be thick, can’t they? I mean, he seriously asked if a vampire shop would be open at night!
“Yes, they’ll be open alright. Do you need any blood right now, Pal?”
Pal nodded. “I haven’t had a pint since last night. I’m parched!”
So I headed out to the front door, followed by Dad and Pal. Pal and I still had our shoes on, but Dad had to slip his on. Mum came out to ask if we needed her, but I said that I didn’t. Dad chuckled and said, “No, don’t you worry. We’ll be able to get it all by ourselves, Roisin, me and this here bloodsucker of hers.”
I looked at him scornfully. “”Bloodsucker” isn’t politically correct; they are vampires.”
“Well, it’s true. That’s what they are and what they do.”
I could see that Pal only looked a little offended and was probably less offended than I was. But I did not like the sentiment that that word implied.
“Please, Dad, don’t use vampirist language!”
He then started to look a little cross. “It’s my own home, I can say whatever I like.”
“Just please don’t say anything offensive about vampires!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Now, let’s go and get some blood.”
Dad climbed in the driver’s seat. I asked Pal if he wanted to drive, but he said that he never learned. Dad made another unpleasant remark, this time muttering that he wouldn’t trust a vampire to drive.
I didn’t say anything this time. Instead, I just gave him the look. This is a look that I had used on occasion to warn the offending person.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Dad, smiling slightly. I could tell it was going to take him some time to get used to living with a vampire.
When we finally got to the vampire shop,the scent of vampire blood incense, the different types of blood and the old wood from which the shop’s floor was clearly built all met my nose. The light of the full hunter’s moon reflected on the glass walls on both the front of the shop and the right side (it was attached to another building (a garage, I think) on the left side). Pal and I didn’t say anything at the entrance. Our expressions of concern were enough to do the talking. As I have previously mentioned, the sale of blood directly to vampires is illegal and very secretive business. Pal had previously explained to me, whilst we were being driven to the shop, that the last illegal seller in our town had recently been caught, fined and threatened with imprisonment, forcing her to move on to another town. He had explained that he didn’t know where she had moved to. So this was not a pro-vampire shop that generally sold directly to vampires. Rather, it was the opposite; it was a shop aimed at doing business with vampire hunters, selling vampire products and selling poisons, traps, stakes, gas and other equipment and weapons for the vampire hunters. Needless to say, Pal stayed outside the door.
“Hello,” I said, greeting the shopkeeper.
“Hi there,” he said, sounding perhaps surprisingly friendly for someone who made a business out of killing and cruelty. Still, though, he could obviously tell that my dad and I were both human. “How can I help?”
He glanced outside. He saw Pal, but Pal, quite sensibly and thankfully, had his back turned, so the shopkeeper couldn’t see his red eyes and scarcely noticed his pale skin. For all he knew, he could’ve been a particularly pale vampire hunter.
“Where is the blood?” I asked.
“We have a vampire infestation in our neighbourhood and we need to do something about it before our problem gets any worse.”
“Well, I admire your quick action,” he replied. My heart palpitated, as I noticed the shopkeeper glancing outside again. “Certainly, it’s right over here,” he said after a pause.
I remembered Pal previously saying that O-negative was his favourite, but I thought that he might need more than that.
I found the O-negative and picked it up. The shopkeeper then pointed out that the blood on the very right end of the wooden shelf was his own and that it was very attractive to vampires, so I picked up a large vial of that as well.
“Do you need any acid?” He asked, pointing me to a shelf filled with acid intended to kill poor vampires.
“Nah, you’re alright,” my dad said. “We already have some.”
The shopkeeper, a little suspicious, shrugged and merely said, “Okay.”
After my dad had paid for the blood, we left the shop and went back outside to go home with Pal.
On the way back, words were spoken mainly with looks. Pal kept gazing over to me, smiling, his eyes saying that he would protect me. Then, he would gaze into space, as if lost in some unsavoury and undesirable past. My dad would also look at me and smile, but then he would turn to Pal, eyebrows raised as if in shock and anger at first and then pushed down as his eyes formed a hard glare. He would then resume his focus on his driving.
At one point, my dad made eye contact with me at the same time as Pal and then locked eyes with the vampire. The expression in his eyes became more forgiving. Perhaps he saw the level of protection that I knew that Pal had for me? My dad’s expression then turned doleful with worry. From the way that he had looked at Pal, I could tell that he had began to understand that Pal meant me no harm.
When we finally pulled up outside my lovely home, which was to be Pal’s temporary home as well, my dad kindly asked Pal to stay in the car whilst he got out and talked to me, to which Pal sensitively obliged.
When we got out, I noticed that my dad’s eyes were doleful and filled with concern and warning once again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Roisin, there’s no easy way to say this. When I was younger, I laid traps for vampires. I only did it for a couple of weeks. I gave it up after one caught my eye. She was the only one I ever caught. She was vicious and defensive. Yet, I saw a creature who just wanted to remain, you know, undead. I undid the trap. She must’ve thought I was gonna stake her or something beforehand, though. She bared her fangs and lashed out until I told her she could trust that I wasn’t going to kill her. I got scratched. I set her free though. She obviously had no intention of biting me, though.”
“She was probably thirsty and didn’t want to run the risk of taking too much blood,” I told him, smiling at the thought of my dad letting the vampire go unharmed.
Dad pulled out his neck and pointed to a space between his neck, chest and shoulder. There, I could see the scar of his vampire scratch. “I have never told anyone about this before. Not a single living person.” He glanced over to Pal. “And I certainly never told any undead soul!”
“That was why I was worried. I know what a vampire can do. They can bite and scratch so painfully.”
“But they can also steal your heart,” I added.
When we arrived home, and when I finally got to bed after nearly tripping over the cat and then undressing and getting changed into my PJs, I mentioned to Pal, who was sitting downstairs in the living room, reading a newspaper that I assumed Dad must’ve left out, that he could now go and clean my teeth. I also told him that Dad would get that old wardrobe out for him tomorrow but, for now, he’d have to make do with napping on the sofa for his nightly nap.
“Okay,” he said, chuckling and smiling a bit. I then put my arm around him and looked into his eyes.
“Pal,” I said softly, after finally preparing myself to ask the next question. “Do you know anything about how vampires came to be so vilified by humans?”
“Well, other than the fact that we were just always seen as monsters from the fact that we drink blood,” he began, still speaking softly and lovingly. “I think I can shed light on this. When I was a young human, many, many moons ago, I lived in a small village near London. This was Haverfield, with its most famous point being Haverfield’s Crescent, a statue of a crescent moon in the town square. That village no longer exists; after it was supposedly taken over entirely by diseased vampires, it was burned to the ground by the Government. All the humans were purposely sought out and warned beforehand. The Government even forcibly evicted people who opposed this, people like yourself. These vampires were not evil; they were infected with a rare virus known as Ro.17, named after the scientist who accidentally created it in laboratory animals. His name was Marius Roverson. His son, a certain Albert Roverson, happened to be an apprentice vampire hunter. At the time, vampire extermination was even more of a booming business than it is today, with reports of vampire activity reaching mass hysteria already, due to the so-called news of vampires arriving from Europe and especially Africa and attacking humans, sometimes killing three or more in one night, because they, like the rest of the Africans, so foreign and newly discovered to the British, were supposedly violent and savage. In reality, I met a few of the ones who weren’t infected and these vampires admitted that their kind would have only taken what they needed, but the vampires that were thought of as the so-called monsters had actually become infected on their way over here. They explained that their kind were only leaving their African homelands due to the increased colonialism, racism and violence in their homelands. This disease is still about, although because of the efforts of the vampires who were concerned to strongly advise and eventually arrest or fine those who didn’t quarantine if they tested positive using one of the Vampire Council’s Ro.7 test kits, it is rare. The Vampire Council are still working very hard to contain the disease, which was caused by human experimentation, I will remind you. This disease did not create vampire hysteria; humans will naturally fear and just want to kill anything that would be perceived as a threat to them, it’s human nature. Vampire extermination efforts by humans, who were and remain mostly unaware of this disease, also helped to curb it, I will admit. But hear me now, when I say that with combined and compassionate efforts of the vampires and the humans, vampire extermination will be completely unnecessary. Ro.7 may still be about, but violence, oppression and prejudice are by far the more prevalent diseases.”

Before I put the excerpt in, I will state that I know there’s some grammatical errors and words left out. The work isn’t even finished yet, let alone proofread, lol…
**The Vampire Farm**
By Victoria Salter.

As I rushed across the shiny, golden-red wooden floor of my parents’ hall (my hall, our hall), I run over everything I needed in my head. School lunch money and purse. Check. School bag. Check. Leather jacket. Check. Juice bottle. Check. Sweets for the vampires (and myself). Check. Enough money for cat food for later on. Check. Comic book that I wanted to show Hawk. Check. Enough money for scratch cards. Check. The only thing I didn’t have, of course, was the right age to be buying scratch cards. I was only 14. I did, however, look about 15 or 16, and could pass as 18 at an incredibly large push. Besides, I was, as my mum used to say, a cheeky and deceitful shite. I had my ways. I like to think of myself as the hero of this story, but I was no moral goddess; unbeknownst to my parents, or to anyone else, for that matter, I had been known to just casually swipe the odd scratch card by putting it into my handbag or purse, or “permanently borrow” items from my parents or schoolmates. One time, I even “acquired” one of Mr Jackson’s rubbers, which happened to be on his desk.
I bid good-bye to my parents, who, in turn, said good-bye and wished me a good day. Prince, our big, ginger-and-white Maine Coon cat was sitting on the welcome mat by the front door, so I patted him and said bye and told him I’d see him later, and that I would try to remember to buy cat food for him.
I wouldn’t say I hated school. Rather, I saw school as a neutral thing, a system of both positive and negative events and dynamics. I hated maths, and I was never very good at it either. Plus, my maths teacher was a prick. The only science I really cared for was biology, but I refused to take part in dissections. Something just didn’t sit right with me about using animal life for that purpose. I loved English and art, though. I have given a little thought as to what I might do when I grew up; I had thought about becoming a writer, or even just scraping a living with my vegetarian cooking skills. I also liked cooking, you see.
What I really wanted to do, however, was to continue working in the field that I already worked in; working with vampires! Yes, you read it right; I worked with vampires, but not as colleagues, though. They were, much to my grief, kept as slaves, tortured and slaughtered by the man known as Hawk. Hawk Roverson, to be more precise. I hated for them to be mistreated in the way that they were, but I saw my work as a way to help them, to be there for them before they were killed, and try to advocate for them and even liberate them.
One that I did manage to save (hopefully) was called Harry. He never gave away his last name - he had been conned by his full name being given away by seemingly friendly neighbours and betrayed. He had a great sense of humour, even through the greatest hardship of his entire 500-year lifetime. He was no saint, however - he admitted that he had killed people back before the sale of blood was invented. Of course, now, the business of selling one’s own blood to vampires was banned and so had to be underground. The Government banned it for two reasons; one, to prevent the taking of blood for non-consenting people, especially with blood-drinking being so instinctual and such a biological need for vampires, and two, because of the vampires’ legal status as pests. It was done to try and deprive vampires and also benefit the work of the vampire hunters, like Hawk. The only blood allowed to be sold for vampire consumption was  for the vampire hunters to use to make vampire poison.
Most vampires, however, did use only the illegal, ethically sourced blood rather than killing to live, as most modern vampires are actually misunderstood and are actually moral and kind. In fact, unbeknownst to most humans, the Vampire Council had issued a law back in 1960 to criminalise any vampire that killed or took blood or energy from non-consenting people. Most vampires also chose to avoid killing animals for their blood.
However, attacks did still happen and these were sensationalised, especially locally. The old horror stories, such as “Dracula”, also caused people to be scared of vampires and think of them as evil.
I, however, knew better; I saw them as friends, as lovely creatures and as equals. But most people didn’t; even my parents were apprehensive about my working with them at first, until they realised that either Hawk or any of the four other, human workers would always be with me on the vampire farm.
As for how the vampires ended up there, well, it was a mix. Some were captured, some were betrayed. Some even were deemed useful and good enough to be brought there after being rounded up at any of the places that had become caught in the hysteria of having a “vampire infestation.”
I usually thought of all the poor vampires throughout most of my day at school. I would often doodle pictures of bats, of made-up vampire characters and of actual vampires on my school books, to which my teachers’ reactions ranged from discerning or concerned looks to even bringing it up at parents’ evening one time (thanks, Mr Jackson!)
After school, I would walk for about two miles through the country lanes  the vampire farm. Roverson’s Vampires.
I expect you’re probably wandering what the point of keeping vampires alive (or, rather, undead) at a farm would be to a vampire hunter. The vampire hunters do generally enjoy torturing them, but they are also used for a chemical in their blood used in everything from medicines to even cosmetic products and also for their skins, which are used for rugs (or pelts), handbags, accessories and even clothing like gloves and socks.
Vampire skin is super soft, silky and always paler than when the vampire in question had been human. It is possible for a black person to become a vampire and still retain their blackness, but their skin would be at least slightly paler than it had been when they were human.
I loved spending time with the vampires. I had particularly taken a liking to a certain vampire named  Paul Ackerson. He liked his first name, but he kindly and laughingly allowed me to affectionately call him Pal, as that was truly what he was to me. In fact, my relationship with Pal wasn’t even just friendship; it was love. At that age, I wasn’t sure that it was romantic love, but it was almost more like family love, or like the love you’d have for an animal companion. And it felt even more important to me because, at the time, my parents had been arguing more and more. But I had to keep a lot of this love between him and I; I couldn’t risk Hawk finding out and potentially giving me the sack. I do, however, doubt that Hawk would’ve sacked me; he seemed to have taken a liking to me, if not for my still obvious sentiment for the vampires. Although it may seem cruel, I sensed that the real reason why he sometimes coerced me into working extra hours was, in fact, because he liked me and he would get lonely otherwise, after all of the other staff had gone. He used to bribe me with extra pay. I never told my parents about this; I would always just say that I chose to work extra hours in my labour of love, helping the vampires. I knew that, if I told them the truth, they might demand I quit or report Hawk for child labour. And there would go my opportunities to care for the vampires and help as many of them escape as possible (on many occasions, I had been known to casually leave the doors to the vampires’ cells unlocked and leave the doors and the back gate unlocked, with a wink to the vampires trapped on the farm, and then leave an anonymous note of illegal sabotage from “the vampire rights people” on any of the desks in any of the three buildings where the vampires were housed)! Besides I didn’t want to create tensions between my parents and Hawk.
After school assembly had finished, I hurried out of the main school and out of the school car park. I then hurried along my usual route past some houses and then under the bridge by the station, across the pavement, up past the usual pubs, past the graveyard, down Moorview Road and then along some country lanes. Eventually, I saw the familiar place; Roverson’s Vampires. I heard the oh-so familiar and most heartbreaking sound of screaming in pain. Yep, it was a poisoning day, and it sounded as if only a couple of vampires were being tortured to death. With a gulp and a gasp, I rushed to the slaughter chamber. I unlocked the door and swung it open.
The two vampires, both behind the bars of the actual kill pen in the slaughter chamber, glanced towards me, amidst their anguish and pain. The extra-strong chains were still on floor and clattered as I walked into them, and the plastic instrument used to force the poison down the throat of non-compliant vampires was right next to them. Actually, the non-compliance of the vampires who were wise to the poisoning and strong enough to resist their instincts around the blood was referred to as “bait shyness” by vampire hunters, but that’s for later on.
Hawk was sat there, on a bench in front of the kill pen, watching with glee and great pleasure as the vampires struggled. I did the only thing I could think to do.
“Really sorry to interrupt your viewing, Hawk,” I said to him, trying my best to show urgency in my voice. “I’ve just been told to inform you that a vampire has gotten loose from Block B.” I attempted an uncomfortable face, in order to try to keep this believable, as Hawk definitely had his suspicions about my attitude towards the vampires. Still, though, when he looked at me suspiciously, I could pick up on his vibe. He was clearly thinking that it would be better to be safe than sorry and give me the benefit of the doubt. He got up, ever so reluctantly, huffing as he did so, and left the slaughter chamber.
That was him dealt with. Now, I only had to find the key to the kill pen. I searched around the room with my eyes. I was not actually looking for the key, but rather I was looking for a place where I thought Hawk might’ve hidden it.
Panic! I had the thought that he might actually keep them in his pocket!
As I searched the room, my eyes met with the two vampires. There was one male and one female, and they were now both on the floor, still screaming and crying in pain.
I then had a beaming idea. What if he kept the key in his office? He had a drawer in his desk that he kept locked. But then I’d have to find the key to unlock the drawer! And Hawk might be in the office!
All I could do was try. “Look,” I said to the vampires. “It’s gonna be okay. I know you might not believe me, I’m human, but I’m a friend. I’m just gonna go and look for the keys to the pen.
The vampiress struggled to speak. Then, wearily, the dying vampiress began to try to speak. “He took them with him. He put them in his pocket after he locked us in.”
Bummer! Oh, well, I still had to try. So, I went Hawk-hunting. I checked the whole yard as fast as I could. I then thought back to Hawk’s office and rushed there as fast as my teenage legs could carry me.
There they were! Led on Hawk’s oak desk, which also served as a reception desk - yes, the vampire farm had a reception desk! Hawk and his staff still needed to talk to people who turned vampires in, of course! The metal keys lay, as a much-needed prize, upon that desk, and I seized them as quickly as I could, rushed out the door, allowing it to slam behind. I then cantered off right across the yard and back into the slaughter chamber. I then quickly unlocked the pen and went in and started stroking and cuddling the vampires. I remembered reading that salt water would cause any vampire that drank it to be sick and regurgitate all that they had consumed, be it blood or anything else. But where was I gonna get salt water from at the vampire farm?
Then, I had an idea; Patrick, one of the other staff members, was always bringing in salt in his lunchbox to season whatever weird and wonderful gastronomic delight he had brought in to eat in his lunch break. I could then use my water bottle and fill it with water from one of the taps and mix in the salt. Only thing was, Patrick’s lunch break was two hours ago! What if he had used up all the salt?
I cantered off, once again, towards the office building. In the lunch room, which was the next room along from Hawk’s desk, I saw Patrick’s open lunch box, left on the table. I looked in it, and there, in one of the compartments, beside a used salt sachet that hadn’t been disposed of, was unopened salt sachet! My prize! I kept my water bottle on the shelf in that same room, and there was a water fountain in the room. I grabbed my empty water bottle and filled it halfway at the fountain. I then added the salt and mixed it around with my hand, before securing the lid back on and cantering out of the room, out of the office, across the yard and into the slaughter chamber. I noticed the two vampires still lying there on the floor. They were now motionless, but obviously still alive (well, alright then, undead), as proven by the groans and cries of pain. I approached the vampiress first and opened her mouth before pouring about half of the saltwater in and forcing it down her throat and stroking her throat. Her eyes shot back to vitality as she got up and began barfing.
I then moved on to the male vampire and did the same thing. His eyes also came back to vitality, and he got up into a crouching position and began throwing up the poison (and just about everything else he had consumed for about the last three weeks!)
The vampiress began to speak. “You barely saved our lives! We are forever grateful!”
“Come on,” I said, urgently, as I beckoned them both to stand. I supported them to walk out of the slaughter chamber and all the way to the entrance. Then, they seemed okay to walk by themselves again, having stopped throwing up and regained a lot of their strength with walking. I unlocked the gate and ushered them out.
“Bye,” the male vampire called. “And thank you so much!”
“How can we ever repay you?” the vampiress asked, sounding ever-so relieved.
“Don’t worry about it! You better get outta here now! Bye!”
“Goodbye,” she called back, as she and her companion left for good.
I wandered back up to Hawk’s office. There, behind the desk, sat a very angry-looking Hawk. “You lied to me!” he shouted. “You fucking ruined my fun! Lemme tell ya something! Would you like it if one of those blood-sucking vermin got you?!”
I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. I was just messing around. I’ll get back to work now.”
“You had better! Roisin, this is your last warning! You know, I have zero tolerance for vampire sympathisers!”
I feigned shock and disgust at being called such a thing. “I’m not a vampire sympathiser! Now, do you have any other jobs I can do?”
Hawk shook his head, muttering the word “no”. “You can, uh, go and get your stuff together. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He frowned. I assumed that one of the other staff members had told him that we had been raided by vampire rights activists again.
I decided to head in to visit Pal in Block A. I unlocked the door latch and plodded in solemnly. I noticed that Pal was in there on his own. He looked the picture of sadness and solemnity, his head down and deep in thought, and a look of brokenness on his face.
“Hello there,” I greeted, trying to cheer him up. “What happened to all of the others?”
He shuck his head. “Think they took them to block C.” He took a long pause, as his doleful eyes gazed into mine. He smiled at me briefly, happy to have someone who cared nearby. Then, he went back to his solemn expression. “You remember that story I told? About Marilyn, the vampiress who was found staked in the barn in the field in Croaker’s Lane? I wish someone would just stake me so that I won’t have to suffer this - this despair, this terror, this…” He paused for thought. “This guilt, of surviving. And then the pain.” He paused again, extremely sadly and solemnly. “But they won’t do that. You know what my fate will be.” He sighed.
The only reasons I hadn’t already freed him were that Hawk always kept the keys to all the cages in his trouser pockets, and that Hawk would only suspect me even more and he could fire me, and then that would be the end of this great opportunity to help as many vampires as possible. However, I looked into Pal’s eyes once again, lovingly and seriously. “Now, you listen here. I’m gonna get you out of here. You’re not gonna die in here if I can help it! That’s a promise.”
“But you’ll get into trouble!”
“”Trouble” is my middle name! I’ll be all right, don’t you worry! I’ll do my best for all of you vampires! You know, this is going to sound weird, but my heart truly does beat for you, for all of you! I’ll get you out! A promise is a promise! Now, goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow, and don’t worry!”
Pal smiled. I could tell he felt very close and loving towards me, not in a creepy or inappropriate way, but in a nice, family kind of way. “Goodbye,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
That night, I was so filled with anxiety that I barely ate anything. Throughout the evening my parents kept pressing me and asking what was wrong, but I refused to open up to them. What if they didn’t understand? They weren’t vampire lovers. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about this at school either, such was my society’s view on vampires. The only people I could talk to about this were Pal and the other vampires, and they were the ones that needed the help! How were they supposed to have any answers? Surely if they had any ideas about how I could get them out, they would’ve already told me, or tried to get out by themselves?
After much mulling over it over night and little sleep, I decided to leave my parents a note about what I was going to do. After all, they were my parents, and they weren’t as anti-vampire as some people were. What harm could it do?
I then quickly got dressed and did my teeth before my mum did my hair ready for school. I then quickly downed a bowl of cornflakes and soy milk and a glass of orange juice before heading off on my way to school.
Why did school have to get in the way of everything? I just wanted to help the vampires!
As soon as school had finished, I rushed off on my usual route to the vampire farm as fast as my 14 year-old legs could carry me. I then pushed open the gate and hurried into Pal’s block. I knew that Hawk may have wanted me to do something, but Pal was more important now.
I pushed open the unlocked door and looked into Pal’s cell. Usually, he would still be sleeping right now, but today, my vampire was nowhere to be seen! I then heard a yelp!
My heart was beating like a zillion beats a second! I rushed out, of the block, almost crying. Without thinking, I yelled “Pal!”
I then began frantically searching the entire farm! I began to hear more pain-filled cries. I decided to follow them. They led me to the wall of the slaughter chamber.
There, Pal was being held in chains and lashed with whips with sharp ends by a couple of other workers whom I, my eyes in tears, didn’t recognise.
“Leave him the fuck alone!” I hollered, getting involved. Usually, Pal was not helpless, but he was heavily restrained by chains. I grabbed one of the men’s hands. He slapped me hard with the other, but I punched him. I managed to knock the two men away.
I looked around to see that we were not alone. Hawk was there. Uh oh.
“That’s enough!” He snapped loudly. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m saving a life! It’s not right!”
“These vampires are dangerous! They’re evil! They’re fucking child-killing, undead demons!”
“That’s not true! They’re people, just like us! They’re just of a different subspecies, a different nature, a different…”
“These dangerous beasts have killed hundreds of humans!”
“That’s not true!”
“This one’s going to be slaughtered! Get the fuck off of my property before I do the same thing to you!”
“I’m not leaving without Pal!”
There was a pause.
“I’ll pay you!”
Of course, I didn’t believe in the slavery of vampires, but I was prepared to pay for one if it meant saving their life. I didn’t have the money on me; I held a couple thousand in the building society, or so my parents said. I knew that the price of a live vampire of Pal’s perceived “quality” was going to be around £400, but his skin could’ve been much more.
“How’re you gonna pay for a bloody vampire?” Hawk asked.
“I have lots of money in my building society,” I told him. “I can offer £400, if need be.”
He smiled wickedly. £400 was a lot of money; a lot of money to buy more equipment, another vampire off of another farm, or perhaps another werewolf hunting dog.
On the other hand, this was a vampire that deserved to be made into a pelt, and his could sell for £600 or so. Yet, he still smiled, for he actually, deeply down, liked this little girl before him.
“Alright,” he chuckled, having lost his anger. “I tell you what. You pay me £400 and work off the rest by working for free. But, if that vampire gets away from you, he’s fair game again.”
Well, that was that sorted, for now at least. Pal was safe, and I kept my work here.
Hawk walked over to Pal, who tried to back away. I looked at Hawk, stern and concerned. He just smiled as he undid Pal’s chains.
I was excused for the rest of the day on the promise that I would work extra over the weekend.
You should’ve seen my parents’ faces when I came in with Pal! “Who’s this?” Mum asked.
“Mum, Dad, please don’t be too alarmed,” I began, as I noticed the horror still present upon both of their faces. “This is Pal. He’s like another parent to me, a great friend. I love him. I saved him from slaughter today.”
My mum and dad had known of my love of vampires for a while now. I could tell.
“But dear, it could eat you! It could-“
“Please don’t say it! And he won’t! He’s lovely! He will just feed off of the blood of consenting donors who sell it. There’s a vampire shop in town. That’s what most vampires do. They’re not the evil demons we have been led to believe.”
“That’s right,” Pal chimed in. “I would do anything to protect your daughter.”
“Creepy!” Mum yelled. “You’re much older than her!”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “He won’t hurt me.”
“Okay, but if he shows any signs of bloodlust or wanting to harm you-“
“He won’t!”
“Where will he sleep?” Dad asked.
“Do we still have my old wardrobe? The one that grandad made that had that crack on the side?”
Dad nodded. “It’s in the garage.”
“We can use that. We’ve got some spare bedding, haven’t we?”
Dad nodded again.
“We can leave it in the garage as well. It’s nice and dark and cobwebbed. The sun can’t get in. It’s perfect for a vampire.”
“Great, I suppose you now need us to go to that vampire shop and get some blood for your friend. Will they still be open now?”
I laughed a bit. Parents can be thick, can’t they? I mean, he seriously asked if a vampire shop would be open at night!
“Yes, they’ll be open alright. Do you need any blood right now, Pal?”
Pal nodded. “I haven’t had a pint since last night. I’m parched!”
So I headed out to the front door, followed by Dad and Pal. Pal and I still had our shoes on, but Dad had to slip his on. Mum came out to ask if we needed her, but I said that I didn’t. Dad chuckled and said, “No, don’t you worry. We’ll be able to get it all by ourselves, Roisin, me and this here bloodsucker of hers.”
I looked at him scornfully. “”Bloodsucker” isn’t politically correct; they are vampires.”
“Well, it’s true. That’s what they are and what they do.”
I could see that Pal only looked a little offended and was probably less offended than I was. But I did not like the sentiment that that word implied.
“Please, Dad, don’t use vampirist language!”
He then started to look a little cross. “It’s my own home, I can say whatever I like.”
“Just please don’t say anything offensive about vampires!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Now, let’s go and get some blood.”
Dad climbed in the driver’s seat. I asked Pal if he wanted to drive, but he said that he never learned. Dad made another unpleasant remark, this time muttering that he wouldn’t trust a vampire to drive.
I didn’t say anything this time. Instead, I just gave him the look. This is a look that I had used on occasion to warn the offending person.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Dad, smiling slightly. I could tell it was going to take him some time to get used to living with a vampire.
When we finally got to the vampire shop,the scent of vampire blood incense, the different types of blood and the old wood from which the shop’s floor was clearly built all met my nose. The light of the full hunter’s moon reflected on the glass walls on both the front of the shop and the right side (it was attached to another building (a garage, I think) on the left side). Pal and I didn’t say anything at the entrance. Our expressions of concern were enough to do the talking. As I have previously mentioned, the sale of blood directly to vampires is illegal and very secretive business. Pal had previously explained to me, whilst we were being driven to the shop, that the last illegal seller in our town had recently been caught, fined and threatened with imprisonment, forcing her to move on to another town. He had explained that he didn’t know where she had moved to. So this was not a pro-vampire shop that generally sold directly to vampires. Rather, it was the opposite; it was a shop aimed at doing business with vampire hunters, selling vampire products and selling poisons, traps, stakes, gas and other equipment and weapons for the vampire hunters. Needless to say, Pal stayed outside the door.
“Hello,” I said, greeting the shopkeeper.
“Hi there,” he said, sounding perhaps surprisingly friendly for someone who made a business out of killing and cruelty. Still, though, he could obviously tell that my dad and I were both human. “How can I help?”
He glanced outside. He saw Pal, but Pal, quite sensibly and thankfully, had his back turned, so the shopkeeper couldn’t see his red eyes and scarcely noticed his pale skin. For all he knew, he could’ve been a particularly pale vampire hunter.
“Where is the blood?” I asked.
“We have a vampire infestation in our neighbourhood and we need to do something about it before our problem gets any worse.”
“Well, I admire your quick action,” he replied. My heart palpitated, as I noticed the shopkeeper glancing outside again. “Certainly, it’s right over here,” he said after a pause.
I remembered Pal previously saying that O-negative was his favourite, but I thought that he might need more than that.
I found the O-negative and picked it up. The shopkeeper then pointed out that the blood on the very right end of the wooden shelf was his own and that it was very attractive to vampires, so I picked up a large vial of that as well.
“Do you need any acid?” He asked, pointing me to a shelf filled with acid intended to kill poor vampires.
“Nah, you’re alright,” my dad said. “We already have some.”
The shopkeeper, a little suspicious, shrugged and merely said, “Okay.”
After my dad had paid for the blood, we left the shop and went back outside to go home with Pal.
On the way back, words were spoken mainly with looks. Pal kept gazing over to me, smiling, his eyes saying that he would protect me. Then, he would gaze into space, as if lost in some unsavoury and undesirable past. My dad would also look at me and smile, but then he would turn to Pal, eyebrows raised as if in shock and anger at first and then pushed down as his eyes formed a hard glare. He would then resume his focus on his driving.
At one point, my dad made eye contact with me at the same time as Pal and then locked eyes with the vampire. The expression in his eyes became more forgiving. Perhaps he saw the level of protection that I knew that Pal had for me? My dad’s expression then turned doleful with worry. From the way that he had looked at Pal, I could tell that he had began to understand that Pal meant me no harm.
When we finally pulled up outside my lovely home, which was to be Pal’s temporary home as well, my dad kindly asked Pal to stay in the car whilst he got out and talked to me, to which Pal sensitively obliged.
When we got out, I noticed that my dad’s eyes were doleful and filled with concern and warning once again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Roisin, there’s no easy way to say this. When I was younger, I laid traps for vampires. I only did it for a couple of weeks. I gave it up after one caught my eye. She was the only one I ever caught. She was vicious and defensive. Yet, I saw a creature who just wanted to remain, you know, undead. I undid the trap. She must’ve thought I was gonna stake her or something beforehand, though. She bared her fangs and lashed out until I told her she could trust that I wasn’t going to kill her. I got scratched. I set her free though. She obviously had no intention of biting me, though.”
“She was probably thirsty and didn’t want to run the risk of taking too much blood,” I told him, smiling at the thought of my dad letting the vampire go unharmed.
Dad pulled out his neck and pointed to a space between his neck, chest and shoulder. There, I could see the scar of his vampire scratch. “I have never told anyone about this before. Not a single living person.” He glanced over to Pal. “And I certainly never told any undead soul!”
“That was why I was worried. I know what a vampire can do. They can bite and scratch so painfully.”
“But they can also steal your heart,” I added.
When we arrived home, and when I finally got to bed after nearly tripping over the cat and then undressing and getting changed into my PJs, I mentioned to Pal, who was sitting downstairs in the living room, reading a newspaper that I assumed Dad must’ve left out, that he could now go and clean my teeth. I also told him that Dad would get that old wardrobe out for him tomorrow but, for now, he’d have to make do with napping on the sofa for his nightly nap.
“Okay,” he said, chuckling and smiling a bit. I then put my arm around him and looked into his eyes.
“Pal,” I said softly, after finally preparing myself to ask the next question. “Do you know anything about how vampires came to be so vilified by humans?”
“Well, other than the fact that we were just always seen as monsters from the fact that we drink blood,” he began, still speaking softly and lovingly. “I think I can shed light on this. When I was a young human, many, many moons ago, I lived in a small village near London. This was Haverfield, with its most famous point being Haverfield’s Crescent, a statue of a crescent moon in the town square. That village no longer exists; after it was supposedly taken over entirely by diseased vampires, it was burned to the ground by the Government. All the humans were purposely sought out and warned beforehand. The Government even forcibly evicted people who opposed this, people like yourself. These vampires were not evil; they were infected with a rare virus known as Ro.17, named after the scientist who accidentally created it in laboratory animals. His name was Marius Roverson. His son, a certain Albert Roverson, happened to be an apprentice vampire hunter. At the time, vampire extermination was even more of a booming business than it is today, with reports of vampire activity reaching mass hysteria already, due to the so-called news of vampires arriving from Europe and especially Africa and attacking humans, sometimes killing three or more in one night, because they, like the rest of the Africans, so foreign and newly discovered to the British, were supposedly violent and savage. In reality, I met a few of the ones who weren’t infected and these vampires admitted that their kind would have only taken what they needed, but the vampires that were thought of as the so-called monsters had actually become infected on their way over here. They explained that their kind were only leaving their African homelands due to the increased colonialism, racism and violence in their homelands. This disease is still about, although because of the efforts of the vampires who were concerned to strongly advise and eventually arrest or fine those who didn’t quarantine if they tested positive using one of the Vampire Council’s Ro.7 test kits, it is rare. The Vampire Council are still working very hard to contain the disease, which was caused by human experimentation, I will remind you. This disease did not create vampire hysteria; humans will naturally fear and just want to kill anything that would be perceived as a threat to them, it’s human nature. Vampire extermination efforts by humans, who were and remain mostly unaware of this disease, also helped to curb it, I will admit. But hear me now, when I say that with combined and compassionate efforts of the vampires and the humans, vampire extermination will be completely unnecessary. Ro.7 may still be about, but violence, oppression and prejudice are by far the more prevalent diseases.”

Before the excerpt, I know that there’s some grammatical errors and missed words. The work isn’t even finished yet, let alone proofread, lol…
The Vampire Farm
By Victoria Salter.

As I rushed across the shiny, golden-red wooden floor of my parents’ hall (my hall, our hall), I run over everything I needed in my head. School lunch money and purse. Check. School bag. Check. Leather jacket. Check. Juice bottle. Check. Sweets for the vampires (and myself). Check. Enough money for cat food for later on. Check. Comic book that I wanted to show Hawk. Check. Enough money for scratch cards. Check. The only thing I didn’t have, of course, was the right age to be buying scratch cards. I was only 14. I did, however, look about 15 or 16, and could pass as 18 at an incredibly large push. Besides, I was, as my mum used to say, a cheeky and deceitful shite. I had my ways. I like to think of myself as the hero of this story, but I was no moral goddess; unbeknownst to my parents, or to anyone else, for that matter, I had been known to just casually swipe the odd scratch card by putting it into my handbag or purse, or “permanently borrow” items from my parents or schoolmates. One time, I even “acquired” one of Mr Jackson’s rubbers, which happened to be on his desk.
I bid good-bye to my parents, who, in turn, said good-bye and wished me a good day. Prince, our big, ginger-and-white Maine Coon cat was sitting on the welcome mat by the front door, so I patted him and said bye and told him I’d see him later, and that I would try to remember to buy cat food for him.
I wouldn’t say I hated school. Rather, I saw school as a neutral thing, a system of both positive and negative events and dynamics. I hated maths, and I was never very good at it either. Plus, my maths teacher was a prick. The only science I really cared for was biology, but I refused to take part in dissections. Something just didn’t sit right with me about using animal life for that purpose. I loved English and art, though. I have given a little thought as to what I might do when I grew up; I had thought about becoming a writer, or even just scraping a living with my vegetarian cooking skills. I also liked cooking, you see.
What I really wanted to do, however, was to continue working in the field that I already worked in; working with vampires! Yes, you read it right; I worked with vampires, but not as colleagues, though. They were, much to my grief, kept as slaves, tortured and slaughtered by the man known as Hawk. Hawk Roverson, to be more precise. I hated for them to be mistreated in the way that they were, but I saw my work as a way to help them, to be there for them before they were killed, and try to advocate for them and even liberate them.
One that I did manage to save (hopefully) was called Harry. He never gave away his last name - he had been conned by his full name being given away by seemingly friendly neighbours and betrayed. He had a great sense of humour, even through the greatest hardship of his entire 500-year lifetime. He was no saint, however - he admitted that he had killed people back before the sale of blood was invented. Of course, now, the business of selling one’s own blood to vampires was banned and so had to be underground. The Government banned it for two reasons; one, to prevent the taking of blood for non-consenting people, especially with blood-drinking being so instinctual and such a biological need for vampires, and two, because of the vampires’ legal status as pests. It was done to try and deprive vampires and also benefit the work of the vampire hunters, like Hawk. The only blood allowed to be sold for vampire consumption was  for the vampire hunters to use to make vampire poison.
Most vampires, however, did use only the illegal, ethically sourced blood rather than killing to live, as most modern vampires are actually misunderstood and are actually moral and kind. In fact, unbeknownst to most humans, the Vampire Council had issued a law back in 1960 to criminalise any vampire that killed or took blood or energy from non-consenting people. Most vampires also chose to avoid killing animals for their blood.
However, attacks did still happen and these were sensationalised, especially locally. The old horror stories, such as “Dracula”, also caused people to be scared of vampires and think of them as evil.
I, however, knew better; I saw them as friends, as lovely creatures and as equals. But most people didn’t; even my parents were apprehensive about my working with them at first, until they realised that either Hawk or any of the four other, human workers would always be with me on the vampire farm.
As for how the vampires ended up there, well, it was a mix. Some were captured, some were betrayed. Some even were deemed useful and good enough to be brought there after being rounded up at any of the places that had become caught in the hysteria of having a “vampire infestation.”
I usually thought of all the poor vampires throughout most of my day at school. I would often doodle pictures of bats, of made-up vampire characters and of actual vampires on my school books, to which my teachers’ reactions ranged from discerning or concerned looks to even bringing it up at parents’ evening one time (thanks, Mr Jackson!)
After school, I would walk for about two miles through the country lanes  the vampire farm. Roverson’s Vampires.
I expect you’re probably wandering what the point of keeping vampires alive (or, rather, undead) at a farm would be to a vampire hunter. The vampire hunters do generally enjoy torturing them, but they are also used for a chemical in their blood used in everything from medicines to even cosmetic products and also for their skins, which are used for rugs (or pelts), handbags, accessories and even clothing like gloves and socks.
Vampire skin is super soft, silky and always paler than when the vampire in question had been human. It is possible for a black person to become a vampire and still retain their blackness, but their skin would be at least slightly paler than it had been when they were human.
I loved spending time with the vampires. I had particularly taken a liking to a certain vampire named  Paul Ackerson. He liked his first name, but he kindly and laughingly allowed me to affectionately call him Pal, as that was truly what he was to me. In fact, my relationship with Pal wasn’t even just friendship; it was love. At that age, I wasn’t sure that it was romantic love, but it was almost more like family love, or like the love you’d have for an animal companion. And it felt even more important to me because, at the time, my parents had been arguing more and more. But I had to keep a lot of this love between him and I; I couldn’t risk Hawk finding out and potentially giving me the sack. I do, however, doubt that Hawk would’ve sacked me; he seemed to have taken a liking to me, if not for my still obvious sentiment for the vampires. Although it may seem cruel, I sensed that the real reason why he sometimes coerced me into working extra hours was, in fact, because he liked me and he would get lonely otherwise, after all of the other staff had gone. He used to bribe me with extra pay. I never told my parents about this; I would always just say that I chose to work extra hours in my labour of love, helping the vampires. I knew that, if I told them the truth, they might demand I quit or report Hawk for child labour. And there would go my opportunities to care for the vampires and help as many of them escape as possible (on many occasions, I had been known to casually leave the doors to the vampires’ cells unlocked and leave the doors and the back gate unlocked, with a wink to the vampires trapped on the farm, and then leave an anonymous note of illegal sabotage from “the vampire rights people” on any of the desks in any of the three buildings where the vampires were housed)! Besides I didn’t want to create tensions between my parents and Hawk.
After school assembly had finished, I hurried out of the main school and out of the school car park. I then hurried along my usual route past some houses and then under the bridge by the station, across the pavement, up past the usual pubs, past the graveyard, down Moorview Road and then along some country lanes. Eventually, I saw the familiar place; Roverson’s Vampires. I heard the oh-so familiar and most heartbreaking sound of screaming in pain. Yep, it was a poisoning day, and it sounded as if only a couple of vampires were being tortured to death. With a gulp and a gasp, I rushed to the slaughter chamber. I unlocked the door and swung it open.
The two vampires, both behind the bars of the actual kill pen in the slaughter chamber, glanced towards me, amidst their anguish and pain. The extra-strong chains were still on floor and clattered as I walked into them, and the plastic instrument used to force the poison down the throat of non-compliant vampires was right next to them. Actually, the non-compliance of the vampires who were wise to the poisoning and strong enough to resist their instincts around the blood was referred to as “bait shyness” by vampire hunters, but that’s for later on.
Hawk was sat there, on a bench in front of the kill pen, watching with glee and great pleasure as the vampires struggled. I did the only thing I could think to do.
“Really sorry to interrupt your viewing, Hawk,” I said to him, trying my best to show urgency in my voice. “I’ve just been told to inform you that a vampire has gotten loose from Block B.” I attempted an uncomfortable face, in order to try to keep this believable, as Hawk definitely had his suspicions about my attitude towards the vampires. Still, though, when he looked at me suspiciously, I could pick up on his vibe. He was clearly thinking that it would be better to be safe than sorry and give me the benefit of the doubt. He got up, ever so reluctantly, huffing as he did so, and left the slaughter chamber.
That was him dealt with. Now, I only had to find the key to the kill pen. I searched around the room with my eyes. I was not actually looking for the key, but rather I was looking for a place where I thought Hawk might’ve hidden it.
Panic! I had the thought that he might actually keep them in his pocket!
As I searched the room, my eyes met with the two vampires. There was one male and one female, and they were now both on the floor, still screaming and crying in pain.
I then had a beaming idea. What if he kept the key in his office? He had a drawer in his desk that he kept locked. But then I’d have to find the key to unlock the drawer! And Hawk might be in the office!
All I could do was try. “Look,” I said to the vampires. “It’s gonna be okay. I know you might not believe me, I’m human, but I’m a friend. I’m just gonna go and look for the keys to the pen.
The vampiress struggled to speak. Then, wearily, the dying vampiress began to try to speak. “He took them with him. He put them in his pocket after he locked us in.”
Bummer! Oh, well, I still had to try. So, I went Hawk-hunting. I checked the whole yard as fast as I could. I then thought back to Hawk’s office and rushed there as fast as my teenage legs could carry me.
There they were! Led on Hawk’s oak desk, which also served as a reception desk - yes, the vampire farm had a reception desk! Hawk and his staff still needed to talk to people who turned vampires in, of course! The metal keys lay, as a much-needed prize, upon that desk, and I seized them as quickly as I could, rushed out the door, allowing it to slam behind. I then cantered off right across the yard and back into the slaughter chamber. I then quickly unlocked the pen and went in and started stroking and cuddling the vampires. I remembered reading that salt water would cause any vampire that drank it to be sick and regurgitate all that they had consumed, be it blood or anything else. But where was I gonna get salt water from at the vampire farm?
Then, I had an idea; Patrick, one of the other staff members, was always bringing in salt in his lunchbox to season whatever weird and wonderful gastronomic delight he had brought in to eat in his lunch break. I could then use my water bottle and fill it with water from one of the taps and mix in the salt. Only thing was, Patrick’s lunch break was two hours ago! What if he had used up all the salt?
I cantered off, once again, towards the office building. In the lunch room, which was the next room along from Hawk’s desk, I saw Patrick’s open lunch box, left on the table. I looked in it, and there, in one of the compartments, beside a used salt sachet that hadn’t been disposed of, was unopened salt sachet! My prize! I kept my water bottle on the shelf in that same room, and there was a water fountain in the room. I grabbed my empty water bottle and filled it halfway at the fountain. I then added the salt and mixed it around with my hand, before securing the lid back on and cantering out of the room, out of the office, across the yard and into the slaughter chamber. I noticed the two vampires still lying there on the floor. They were now motionless, but obviously still alive (well, alright then, undead), as proven by the groans and cries of pain. I approached the vampiress first and opened her mouth before pouring about half of the saltwater in and forcing it down her throat and stroking her throat. Her eyes shot back to vitality as she got up and began barfing.
I then moved on to the male vampire and did the same thing. His eyes also came back to vitality, and he got up into a crouching position and began throwing up the poison (and just about everything else he had consumed for about the last three weeks!)
The vampiress began to speak. “You barely saved our lives! We are forever grateful!”
“Come on,” I said, urgently, as I beckoned them both to stand. I supported them to walk out of the slaughter chamber and all the way to the entrance. Then, they seemed okay to walk by themselves again, having stopped throwing up and regained a lot of their strength with walking. I unlocked the gate and ushered them out.
“Bye,” the male vampire called. “And thank you so much!”
“How can we ever repay you?” the vampiress asked, sounding ever-so relieved.
“Don’t worry about it! You better get outta here now! Bye!”
“Goodbye,” she called back, as she and her companion left for good.
I wandered back up to Hawk’s office. There, behind the desk, sat a very angry-looking Hawk. “You lied to me!” he shouted. “You fucking ruined my fun! Lemme tell ya something! Would you like it if one of those blood-sucking vermin got you?!”
I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. I was just messing around. I’ll get back to work now.”
“You had better! Roisin, this is your last warning! You know, I have zero tolerance for vampire sympathisers!”
I feigned shock and disgust at being called such a thing. “I’m not a vampire sympathiser! Now, do you have any other jobs I can do?”
Hawk shook his head, muttering the word “no”. “You can, uh, go and get your stuff together. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He frowned. I assumed that one of the other staff members had told him that we had been raided by vampire rights activists again.
I decided to head in to visit Pal in Block A. I unlocked the door latch and plodded in solemnly. I noticed that Pal was in there on his own. He looked the picture of sadness and solemnity, his head down and deep in thought, and a look of brokenness on his face.
“Hello there,” I greeted, trying to cheer him up. “What happened to all of the others?”
He shuck his head. “Think they took them to block C.” He took a long pause, as his doleful eyes gazed into mine. He smiled at me briefly, happy to have someone who cared nearby. Then, he went back to his solemn expression. “You remember that story I told? About Marilyn, the vampiress who was found staked in the barn in the field in Croaker’s Lane? I wish someone would just stake me so that I won’t have to suffer this - this despair, this terror, this…” He paused for thought. “This guilt, of surviving. And then the pain.” He paused again, extremely sadly and solemnly. “But they won’t do that. You know what my fate will be.” He sighed.
The only reasons I hadn’t already freed him were that Hawk always kept the keys to all the cages in his trouser pockets, and that Hawk would only suspect me even more and he could fire me, and then that would be the end of this great opportunity to help as many vampires as possible. However, I looked into Pal’s eyes once again, lovingly and seriously. “Now, you listen here. I’m gonna get you out of here. You’re not gonna die in here if I can help it! That’s a promise.”
“But you’ll get into trouble!”
“”Trouble” is my middle name! I’ll be all right, don’t you worry! I’ll do my best for all of you vampires! You know, this is going to sound weird, but my heart truly does beat for you, for all of you! I’ll get you out! A promise is a promise! Now, goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow, and don’t worry!”
Pal smiled. I could tell he felt very close and loving towards me, not in a creepy or inappropriate way, but in a nice, family kind of way. “Goodbye,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
That night, I was so filled with anxiety that I barely ate anything. Throughout the evening my parents kept pressing me and asking what was wrong, but I refused to open up to them. What if they didn’t understand? They weren’t vampire lovers. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about this at school either, such was my society’s view on vampires. The only people I could talk to about this were Pal and the other vampires, and they were the ones that needed the help! How were they supposed to have any answers? Surely if they had any ideas about how I could get them out, they would’ve already told me, or tried to get out by themselves?
After much mulling over it over night and little sleep, I decided to leave my parents a note about what I was going to do. After all, they were my parents, and they weren’t as anti-vampire as some people were. What harm could it do?
I then quickly got dressed and did my teeth before my mum did my hair ready for school. I then quickly downed a bowl of cornflakes and soy milk and a glass of orange juice before heading off on my way to school.
Why did school have to get in the way of everything? I just wanted to help the vampires!
As soon as school had finished, I rushed off on my usual route to the vampire farm as fast as my 14 year-old legs could carry me. I then pushed open the gate and hurried into Pal’s block. I knew that Hawk may have wanted me to do something, but Pal was more important now.
I pushed open the unlocked door and looked into Pal’s cell. Usually, he would still be sleeping right now, but today, my vampire was nowhere to be seen! I then heard a yelp!
My heart was beating like a zillion beats a second! I rushed out, of the block, almost crying. Without thinking, I yelled “Pal!”
I then began frantically searching the entire farm! I began to hear more pain-filled cries. I decided to follow them. They led me to the wall of the slaughter chamber.
There, Pal was being held in chains and lashed with whips with sharp ends by a couple of other workers whom I, my eyes in tears, didn’t recognise.
“Leave him the fuck alone!” I hollered, getting involved. Usually, Pal was not helpless, but he was heavily restrained by chains. I grabbed one of the men’s hands. He slapped me hard with the other, but I punched him. I managed to knock the two men away.
I looked around to see that we were not alone. Hawk was there. Uh oh.
“That’s enough!” He snapped loudly. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m saving a life! It’s not right!”
“These vampires are dangerous! They’re evil! They’re fucking child-killing, undead demons!”
“That’s not true! They’re people, just like us! They’re just of a different subspecies, a different nature, a different…”
“These dangerous beasts have killed hundreds of humans!”
“That’s not true!”
“This one’s going to be slaughtered! Get the fuck off of my property before I do the same thing to you!”
“I’m not leaving without Pal!”
There was a pause.
“I’ll pay you!”
Of course, I didn’t believe in the slavery of vampires, but I was prepared to pay for one if it meant saving their life. I didn’t have the money on me; I held a couple thousand in the building society, or so my parents said. I knew that the price of a live vampire of Pal’s perceived “quality” was going to be around £400, but his skin could’ve been much more.
“How’re you gonna pay for a bloody vampire?” Hawk asked.
“I have lots of money in my building society,” I told him. “I can offer £400, if need be.”
He smiled wickedly. £400 was a lot of money; a lot of money to buy more equipment, another vampire off of another farm, or perhaps another werewolf hunting dog.
On the other hand, this was a vampire that deserved to be made into a pelt, and his could sell for £600 or so. Yet, he still smiled, for he actually, deeply down, liked this little girl before him.
“Alright,” he chuckled, having lost his anger. “I tell you what. You pay me £400 and work off the rest by working for free. But, if that vampire gets away from you, he’s fair game again.”
Well, that was that sorted, for now at least. Pal was safe, and I kept my work here.
Hawk walked over to Pal, who tried to back away. I looked at Hawk, stern and concerned. He just smiled as he undid Pal’s chains.
I was excused for the rest of the day on the promise that I would work extra over the weekend.
You should’ve seen my parents’ faces when I came in with Pal! “Who’s this?” Mum asked.
“Mum, Dad, please don’t be too alarmed,” I began, as I noticed the horror still present upon both of their faces. “This is Pal. He’s like another parent to me, a great friend. I love him. I saved him from slaughter today.”
My mum and dad had known of my love of vampires for a while now. I could tell.
“But dear, it could eat you! It could-“
“Please don’t say it! And he won’t! He’s lovely! He will just feed off of the blood of consenting donors who sell it. There’s a vampire shop in town. That’s what most vampires do. They’re not the evil demons we have been led to believe.”
“That’s right,” Pal chimed in. “I would do anything to protect your daughter.”
“Creepy!” Mum yelled. “You’re much older than her!”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “He won’t hurt me.”
“Okay, but if he shows any signs of bloodlust or wanting to harm you-“
“He won’t!”
“Where will he sleep?” Dad asked.
“Do we still have my old wardrobe? The one that grandad made that had that crack on the side?”
Dad nodded. “It’s in the garage.”
“We can use that. We’ve got some spare bedding, haven’t we?”
Dad nodded again.
“We can leave it in the garage as well. It’s nice and dark and cobwebbed. The sun can’t get in. It’s perfect for a vampire.”
“Great, I suppose you now need us to go to that vampire shop and get some blood for your friend. Will they still be open now?”
I laughed a bit. Parents can be thick, can’t they? I mean, he seriously asked if a vampire shop would be open at night!
“Yes, they’ll be open alright. Do you need any blood right now, Pal?”
Pal nodded. “I haven’t had a pint since last night. I’m parched!”
So I headed out to the front door, followed by Dad and Pal. Pal and I still had our shoes on, but Dad had to slip his on. Mum came out to ask if we needed her, but I said that I didn’t. Dad chuckled and said, “No, don’t you worry. We’ll be able to get it all by ourselves, Roisin, me and this here bloodsucker of hers.”
I looked at him scornfully. “”Bloodsucker” isn’t politically correct; they are vampires.”
“Well, it’s true. That’s what they are and what they do.”
I could see that Pal only looked a little offended and was probably less offended than I was. But I did not like the sentiment that that word implied.
“Please, Dad, don’t use vampirist language!”
He then started to look a little cross. “It’s my own home, I can say whatever I like.”
“Just please don’t say anything offensive about vampires!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Now, let’s go and get some blood.”
Dad climbed in the driver’s seat. I asked Pal if he wanted to drive, but he said that he never learned. Dad made another unpleasant remark, this time muttering that he wouldn’t trust a vampire to drive.
I didn’t say anything this time. Instead, I just gave him the look. This is a look that I had used on occasion to warn the offending person.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Dad, smiling slightly. I could tell it was going to take him some time to get used to living with a vampire.
When we finally got to the vampire shop,the scent of vampire blood incense, the different types of blood and the old wood from which the shop’s floor was clearly built all met my nose. The light of the full hunter’s moon reflected on the glass walls on both the front of the shop and the right side (it was attached to another building (a garage, I think) on the left side). Pal and I didn’t say anything at the entrance. Our expressions of concern were enough to do the talking. As I have previously mentioned, the sale of blood directly to vampires is illegal and very secretive business. Pal had previously explained to me, whilst we were being driven to the shop, that the last illegal seller in our town had recently been caught, fined and threatened with imprisonment, forcing her to move on to another town. He had explained that he didn’t know where she had moved to. So this was not a pro-vampire shop that generally sold directly to vampires. Rather, it was the opposite; it was a shop aimed at doing business with vampire hunters, selling vampire products and selling poisons, traps, stakes, gas and other equipment and weapons for the vampire hunters. Needless to say, Pal stayed outside the door.
“Hello,” I said, greeting the shopkeeper.
“Hi there,” he said, sounding perhaps surprisingly friendly for someone who made a business out of killing and cruelty. Still, though, he could obviously tell that my dad and I were both human. “How can I help?”
He glanced outside. He saw Pal, but Pal, quite sensibly and thankfully, had his back turned, so the shopkeeper couldn’t see his red eyes and scarcely noticed his pale skin. For all he knew, he could’ve been a particularly pale vampire hunter.
“Where is the blood?” I asked.
“We have a vampire infestation in our neighbourhood and we need to do something about it before our problem gets any worse.”
“Well, I admire your quick action,” he replied. My heart palpitated, as I noticed the shopkeeper glancing outside again. “Certainly, it’s right over here,” he said after a pause.
I remembered Pal previously saying that O-negative was his favourite, but I thought that he might need more than that.
I found the O-negative and picked it up. The shopkeeper then pointed out that the blood on the very right end of the wooden shelf was his own and that it was very attractive to vampires, so I picked up a large vial of that as well.
“Do you need any acid?” He asked, pointing me to a shelf filled with acid intended to kill poor vampires.
“Nah, you’re alright,” my dad said. “We already have some.”
The shopkeeper, a little suspicious, shrugged and merely said, “Okay.”
After my dad had paid for the blood, we left the shop and went back outside to go home with Pal.
On the way back, words were spoken mainly with looks. Pal kept gazing over to me, smiling, his eyes saying that he would protect me. Then, he would gaze into space, as if lost in some unsavoury and undesirable past. My dad would also look at me and smile, but then he would turn to Pal, eyebrows raised as if in shock and anger at first and then pushed down as his eyes formed a hard glare. He would then resume his focus on his driving.
At one point, my dad made eye contact with me at the same time as Pal and then locked eyes with the vampire. The expression in his eyes became more forgiving. Perhaps he saw the level of protection that I knew that Pal had for me? My dad’s expression then turned doleful with worry. From the way that he had looked at Pal, I could tell that he had began to understand that Pal meant me no harm.
When we finally pulled up outside my lovely home, which was to be Pal’s temporary home as well, my dad kindly asked Pal to stay in the car whilst he got out and talked to me, to which Pal sensitively obliged.
When we got out, I noticed that my dad’s eyes were doleful and filled with concern and warning once again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Roisin, there’s no easy way to say this. When I was younger, I laid traps for vampires. I only did it for a couple of weeks. I gave it up after one caught my eye. She was the only one I ever caught. She was vicious and defensive. Yet, I saw a creature who just wanted to remain, you know, undead. I undid the trap. She must’ve thought I was gonna stake her or something beforehand, though. She bared her fangs and lashed out until I told her she could trust that I wasn’t going to kill her. I got scratched. I set her free though. She obviously had no intention of biting me, though.”
“She was probably thirsty and didn’t want to run the risk of taking too much blood,” I told him, smiling at the thought of my dad letting the vampire go unharmed.
Dad pulled out his neck and pointed to a space between his neck, chest and shoulder. There, I could see the scar of his vampire scratch. “I have never told anyone about this before. Not a single living person.” He glanced over to Pal. “And I certainly never told any undead soul!”
“That was why I was worried. I know what a vampire can do. They can bite and scratch so painfully.”
“But they can also steal your heart,” I added.
When we arrived home, and when I finally got to bed after nearly tripping over the cat and then undressing and getting changed into my PJs, I mentioned to Pal, who was sitting downstairs in the living room, reading a newspaper that I assumed Dad must’ve left out, that he could now go and clean my teeth. I also told him that Dad would get that old wardrobe out for him tomorrow but, for now, he’d have to make do with napping on the sofa for his nightly nap.
“Okay,” he said, chuckling and smiling a bit. I then put my arm around him and looked into his eyes.
“Pal,” I said softly, after finally preparing myself to ask the next question. “Do you know anything about how vampires came to be so vilified by humans?”
“Well, other than the fact that we were just always seen as monsters from the fact that we drink blood,” he began, still speaking softly and lovingly. “I think I can shed light on this. When I was a young human, many, many moons ago, I lived in a small village near London. This was Haverfield, with its most famous point being Haverfield’s Crescent, a statue of a crescent moon in the town square. That village no longer exists; after it was supposedly taken over entirely by diseased vampires, it was burned to the ground by the Government. All the humans were purposely sought out and warned beforehand. The Government even forcibly evicted people who opposed this, people like yourself. These vampires were not evil; they were infected with a rare virus known as Ro.17, named after the scientist who accidentally created it in laboratory animals. His name was Marius Roverson. His son, a certain Albert Roverson, happened to be an apprentice vampire hunter. At the time, vampire extermination was even more of a booming business than it is today, with reports of vampire activity reaching mass hysteria already, due to the so-called news of vampires arriving from Europe and especially Africa and attacking humans, sometimes killing three or more in one night, because they, like the rest of the Africans, so foreign and newly discovered to the British, were supposedly violent and savage. In reality, I met a few of the ones who weren’t infected and these vampires admitted that their kind would have only taken what they needed, but the vampires that were thought of as the so-called monsters had actually become infected on their way over here. They explained that their kind were only leaving their African homelands due to the increased colonialism, racism and violence in their homelands. This disease is still about, although because of the efforts of the vampires who were concerned to strongly advise and eventually arrest or fine those who didn’t quarantine if they tested positive using one of the Vampire Council’s Ro.7 test kits, it is rare. The Vampire Council are still working very hard to contain the disease, which was caused by human experimentation, I will remind you. This disease did not create vampire hysteria; humans will naturally fear and just want to kill anything that would be perceived as a threat to them, it’s human nature. Vampire extermination efforts by humans, who were and remain mostly unaware of this disease, also helped to curb it, I will admit. But hear me now, when I say that with combined and compassionate efforts of the vampires and the humans, vampire extermination will be completely unnecessary. Ro.7 may still be about, but violence, oppression and prejudice are by far the more prevalent diseases.”

Before I put the excerpt in, I will state that I know there’s some grammatical errors and words left out. The work isn’t even finished yet, let alone proofread, lol…
The Vampire Farm
By Victoria Salter.

As I rushed across the shiny, golden-red wooden floor of my parents’ hall (my hall, our hall), I run over everything I needed in my head. School lunch money and purse. Check. School bag. Check. Leather jacket. Check. Juice bottle. Check. Sweets for the vampires (and myself). Check. Enough money for cat food for later on. Check. Comic book that I wanted to show Hawk. Check. Enough money for scratch cards. Check. The only thing I didn’t have, of course, was the right age to be buying scratch cards. I was only 14. I did, however, look about 15 or 16, and could pass as 18 at an incredibly large push. Besides, I was, as my mum used to say, a cheeky and deceitful shite. I had my ways. I like to think of myself as the hero of this story, but I was no moral goddess; unbeknownst to my parents, or to anyone else, for that matter, I had been known to just casually swipe the odd scratch card by putting it into my handbag or purse, or “permanently borrow” items from my parents or schoolmates. One time, I even “acquired” one of Mr Jackson’s rubbers, which happened to be on his desk.
I bid good-bye to my parents, who, in turn, said good-bye and wished me a good day. Prince, our big, ginger-and-white Maine Coon cat was sitting on the welcome mat by the front door, so I patted him and said bye and told him I’d see him later, and that I would try to remember to buy cat food for him.
I wouldn’t say I hated school. Rather, I saw school as a neutral thing, a system of both positive and negative events and dynamics. I hated maths, and I was never very good at it either. Plus, my maths teacher was a prick. The only science I really cared for was biology, but I refused to take part in dissections. Something just didn’t sit right with me about using animal life for that purpose. I loved English and art, though. I have given a little thought as to what I might do when I grew up; I had thought about becoming a writer, or even just scraping a living with my vegetarian cooking skills. I also liked cooking, you see.
What I really wanted to do, however, was to continue working in the field that I already worked in; working with vampires! Yes, you read it right; I worked with vampires, but not as colleagues, though. They were, much to my grief, kept as slaves, tortured and slaughtered by the man known as Hawk. Hawk Roverson, to be more precise. I hated for them to be mistreated in the way that they were, but I saw my work as a way to help them, to be there for them before they were killed, and try to advocate for them and even liberate them.
One that I did manage to save (hopefully) was called Harry. He never gave away his last name - he had been conned by his full name being given away by seemingly friendly neighbours and betrayed. He had a great sense of humour, even through the greatest hardship of his entire 500-year lifetime. He was no saint, however - he admitted that he had killed people back before the sale of blood was invented. Of course, now, the business of selling one’s own blood to vampires was banned and so had to be underground. The Government banned it for two reasons; one, to prevent the taking of blood for non-consenting people, especially with blood-drinking being so instinctual and such a biological need for vampires, and two, because of the vampires’ legal status as pests. It was done to try and deprive vampires and also benefit the work of the vampire hunters, like Hawk. The only blood allowed to be sold for vampire consumption was  for the vampire hunters to use to make vampire poison.
Most vampires, however, did use only the illegal, ethically sourced blood rather than killing to live, as most modern vampires are actually misunderstood and are actually moral and kind. In fact, unbeknownst to most humans, the Vampire Council had issued a law back in 1960 to criminalise any vampire that killed or took blood or energy from non-consenting people. Most vampires also chose to avoid killing animals for their blood.
However, attacks did still happen and these were sensationalised, especially locally. The old horror stories, such as “Dracula”, also caused people to be scared of vampires and think of them as evil.
I, however, knew better; I saw them as friends, as lovely creatures and as equals. But most people didn’t; even my parents were apprehensive about my working with them at first, until they realised that either Hawk or any of the four other, human workers would always be with me on the vampire farm.
As for how the vampires ended up there, well, it was a mix. Some were captured, some were betrayed. Some even were deemed useful and good enough to be brought there after being rounded up at any of the places that had become caught in the hysteria of having a “vampire infestation.”
I usually thought of all the poor vampires throughout most of my day at school. I would often doodle pictures of bats, of made-up vampire characters and of actual vampires on my school books, to which my teachers’ reactions ranged from discerning or concerned looks to even bringing it up at parents’ evening one time (thanks, Mr Jackson!)
After school, I would walk for about two miles through the country lanes  the vampire farm. Roverson’s Vampires.
I expect you’re probably wandering what the point of keeping vampires alive (or, rather, undead) at a farm would be to a vampire hunter. The vampire hunters do generally enjoy torturing them, but they are also used for a chemical in their blood used in everything from medicines to even cosmetic products and also for their skins, which are used for rugs (or pelts), handbags, accessories and even clothing like gloves and socks.
Vampire skin is super soft, silky and always paler than when the vampire in question had been human. It is possible for a black person to become a vampire and still retain their blackness, but their skin would be at least slightly paler than it had been when they were human.
I loved spending time with the vampires. I had particularly taken a liking to a certain vampire named  Paul Ackerson. He liked his first name, but he kindly and laughingly allowed me to affectionately call him Pal, as that was truly what he was to me. In fact, my relationship with Pal wasn’t even just friendship; it was love. At that age, I wasn’t sure that it was romantic love, but it was almost more like family love, or like the love you’d have for an animal companion. And it felt even more important to me because, at the time, my parents had been arguing more and more. But I had to keep a lot of this love between him and I; I couldn’t risk Hawk finding out and potentially giving me the sack. I do, however, doubt that Hawk would’ve sacked me; he seemed to have taken a liking to me, if not for my still obvious sentiment for the vampires. Although it may seem cruel, I sensed that the real reason why he sometimes coerced me into working extra hours was, in fact, because he liked me and he would get lonely otherwise, after all of the other staff had gone. He used to bribe me with extra pay. I never told my parents about this; I would always just say that I chose to work extra hours in my labour of love, helping the vampires. I knew that, if I told them the truth, they might demand I quit or report Hawk for child labour. And there would go my opportunities to care for the vampires and help as many of them escape as possible (on many occasions, I had been known to casually leave the doors to the vampires’ cells unlocked and leave the doors and the back gate unlocked, with a wink to the vampires trapped on the farm, and then leave an anonymous note of illegal sabotage from “the vampire rights people” on any of the desks in any of the three buildings where the vampires were housed)! Besides I didn’t want to create tensions between my parents and Hawk.
After school assembly had finished, I hurried out of the main school and out of the school car park. I then hurried along my usual route past some houses and then under the bridge by the station, across the pavement, up past the usual pubs, past the graveyard, down Moorview Road and then along some country lanes. Eventually, I saw the familiar place; Roverson’s Vampires. I heard the oh-so familiar and most heartbreaking sound of screaming in pain. Yep, it was a poisoning day, and it sounded as if only a couple of vampires were being tortured to death. With a gulp and a gasp, I rushed to the slaughter chamber. I unlocked the door and swung it open.
The two vampires, both behind the bars of the actual kill pen in the slaughter chamber, glanced towards me, amidst their anguish and pain. The extra-strong chains were still on floor and clattered as I walked into them, and the plastic instrument used to force the poison down the throat of non-compliant vampires was right next to them. Actually, the non-compliance of the vampires who were wise to the poisoning and strong enough to resist their instincts around the blood was referred to as “bait shyness” by vampire hunters, but that’s for later on.
Hawk was sat there, on a bench in front of the kill pen, watching with glee and great pleasure as the vampires struggled. I did the only thing I could think to do.
“Really sorry to interrupt your viewing, Hawk,” I said to him, trying my best to show urgency in my voice. “I’ve just been told to inform you that a vampire has gotten loose from Block B.” I attempted an uncomfortable face, in order to try to keep this believable, as Hawk definitely had his suspicions about my attitude towards the vampires. Still, though, when he looked at me suspiciously, I could pick up on his vibe. He was clearly thinking that it would be better to be safe than sorry and give me the benefit of the doubt. He got up, ever so reluctantly, huffing as he did so, and left the slaughter chamber.
That was him dealt with. Now, I only had to find the key to the kill pen. I searched around the room with my eyes. I was not actually looking for the key, but rather I was looking for a place where I thought Hawk might’ve hidden it.
Panic! I had the thought that he might actually keep them in his pocket!
As I searched the room, my eyes met with the two vampires. There was one male and one female, and they were now both on the floor, still screaming and crying in pain.
I then had a beaming idea. What if he kept the key in his office? He had a drawer in his desk that he kept locked. But then I’d have to find the key to unlock the drawer! And Hawk might be in the office!
All I could do was try. “Look,” I said to the vampires. “It’s gonna be okay. I know you might not believe me, I’m human, but I’m a friend. I’m just gonna go and look for the keys to the pen.
The vampiress struggled to speak. Then, wearily, the dying vampiress began to try to speak. “He took them with him. He put them in his pocket after he locked us in.”
Bummer! Oh, well, I still had to try. So, I went Hawk-hunting. I checked the whole yard as fast as I could. I then thought back to Hawk’s office and rushed there as fast as my teenage legs could carry me.
There they were! Led on Hawk’s oak desk, which also served as a reception desk - yes, the vampire farm had a reception desk! Hawk and his staff still needed to talk to people who turned vampires in, of course! The metal keys lay, as a much-needed prize, upon that desk, and I seized them as quickly as I could, rushed out the door, allowing it to slam behind. I then cantered off right across the yard and back into the slaughter chamber. I then quickly unlocked the pen and went in and started stroking and cuddling the vampires. I remembered reading that salt water would cause any vampire that drank it to be sick and regurgitate all that they had consumed, be it blood or anything else. But where was I gonna get salt water from at the vampire farm?
Then, I had an idea; Patrick, one of the other staff members, was always bringing in salt in his lunchbox to season whatever weird and wonderful gastronomic delight he had brought in to eat in his lunch break. I could then use my water bottle and fill it with water from one of the taps and mix in the salt. Only thing was, Patrick’s lunch break was two hours ago! What if he had used up all the salt?
I cantered off, once again, towards the office building. In the lunch room, which was the next room along from Hawk’s desk, I saw Patrick’s open lunch box, left on the table. I looked in it, and there, in one of the compartments, beside a used salt sachet that hadn’t been disposed of, was unopened salt sachet! My prize! I kept my water bottle on the shelf in that same room, and there was a water fountain in the room. I grabbed my empty water bottle and filled it halfway at the fountain. I then added the salt and mixed it around with my hand, before securing the lid back on and cantering out of the room, out of the office, across the yard and into the slaughter chamber. I noticed the two vampires still lying there on the floor. They were now motionless, but obviously still alive (well, alright then, undead), as proven by the groans and cries of pain. I approached the vampiress first and opened her mouth before pouring about half of the saltwater in and forcing it down her throat and stroking her throat. Her eyes shot back to vitality as she got up and began barfing.
I then moved on to the male vampire and did the same thing. His eyes also came back to vitality, and he got up into a crouching position and began throwing up the poison (and just about everything else he had consumed for about the last three weeks!)
The vampiress began to speak. “You barely saved our lives! We are forever grateful!”
“Come on,” I said, urgently, as I beckoned them both to stand. I supported them to walk out of the slaughter chamber and all the way to the entrance. Then, they seemed okay to walk by themselves again, having stopped throwing up and regained a lot of their strength with walking. I unlocked the gate and ushered them out.
“Bye,” the male vampire called. “And thank you so much!”
“How can we ever repay you?” the vampiress asked, sounding ever-so relieved.
“Don’t worry about it! You better get outta here now! Bye!”
“Goodbye,” she called back, as she and her companion left for good.
I wandered back up to Hawk’s office. There, behind the desk, sat a very angry-looking Hawk. “You lied to me!” he shouted. “You fucking ruined my fun! Lemme tell ya something! Would you like it if one of those blood-sucking vermin got you?!”
I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. I was just messing around. I’ll get back to work now.”
“You had better! Roisin, this is your last warning! You know, I have zero tolerance for vampire sympathisers!”
I feigned shock and disgust at being called such a thing. “I’m not a vampire sympathiser! Now, do you have any other jobs I can do?”
Hawk shook his head, muttering the word “no”. “You can, uh, go and get your stuff together. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He frowned. I assumed that one of the other staff members had told him that we had been raided by vampire rights activists again.
I decided to head in to visit Pal in Block A. I unlocked the door latch and plodded in solemnly. I noticed that Pal was in there on his own. He looked the picture of sadness and solemnity, his head down and deep in thought, and a look of brokenness on his face.
“Hello there,” I greeted, trying to cheer him up. “What happened to all of the others?”
He shuck his head. “Think they took them to block C.” He took a long pause, as his doleful eyes gazed into mine. He smiled at me briefly, happy to have someone who cared nearby. Then, he went back to his solemn expression. “You remember that story I told? About Marilyn, the vampiress who was found staked in the barn in the field in Croaker’s Lane? I wish someone would just stake me so that I won’t have to suffer this - this despair, this terror, this…” He paused for thought. “This guilt, of surviving. And then the pain.” He paused again, extremely sadly and solemnly. “But they won’t do that. You know what my fate will be.” He sighed.
The only reasons I hadn’t already freed him were that Hawk always kept the keys to all the cages in his trouser pockets, and that Hawk would only suspect me even more and he could fire me, and then that would be the end of this great opportunity to help as many vampires as possible. However, I looked into Pal’s eyes once again, lovingly and seriously. “Now, you listen here. I’m gonna get you out of here. You’re not gonna die in here if I can help it! That’s a promise.”
“But you’ll get into trouble!”
“”Trouble” is my middle name! I’ll be all right, don’t you worry! I’ll do my best for all of you vampires! You know, this is going to sound weird, but my heart truly does beat for you, for all of you! I’ll get you out! A promise is a promise! Now, goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow, and don’t worry!”
Pal smiled. I could tell he felt very close and loving towards me, not in a creepy or inappropriate way, but in a nice, family kind of way. “Goodbye,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
That night, I was so filled with anxiety that I barely ate anything. Throughout the evening my parents kept pressing me and asking what was wrong, but I refused to open up to them. What if they didn’t understand? They weren’t vampire lovers. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about this at school either, such was my society’s view on vampires. The only people I could talk to about this were Pal and the other vampires, and they were the ones that needed the help! How were they supposed to have any answers? Surely if they had any ideas about how I could get them out, they would’ve already told me, or tried to get out by themselves?
After much mulling over it over night and little sleep, I decided to leave my parents a note about what I was going to do. After all, they were my parents, and they weren’t as anti-vampire as some people were. What harm could it do?
I then quickly got dressed and did my teeth before my mum did my hair ready for school. I then quickly downed a bowl of cornflakes and soy milk and a glass of orange juice before heading off on my way to school.
Why did school have to get in the way of everything? I just wanted to help the vampires!
As soon as school had finished, I rushed off on my usual route to the vampire farm as fast as my 14 year-old legs could carry me. I then pushed open the gate and hurried into Pal’s block. I knew that Hawk may have wanted me to do something, but Pal was more important now.
I pushed open the unlocked door and looked into Pal’s cell. Usually, he would still be sleeping right now, but today, my vampire was nowhere to be seen! I then heard a yelp!
My heart was beating like a zillion beats a second! I rushed out, of the block, almost crying. Without thinking, I yelled “Pal!”
I then began frantically searching the entire farm! I began to hear more pain-filled cries. I decided to follow them. They led me to the wall of the slaughter chamber.
There, Pal was being held in chains and lashed with whips with sharp ends by a couple of other workers whom I, my eyes in tears, didn’t recognise.
“Leave him the fuck alone!” I hollered, getting involved. Usually, Pal was not helpless, but he was heavily restrained by chains. I grabbed one of the men’s hands. He slapped me hard with the other, but I punched him. I managed to knock the two men away.
I looked around to see that we were not alone. Hawk was there. Uh oh.
“That’s enough!” He snapped loudly. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m saving a life! It’s not right!”
“These vampires are dangerous! They’re evil! They’re fucking child-killing, undead demons!”
“That’s not true! They’re people, just like us! They’re just of a different subspecies, a different nature, a different…”
“These dangerous beasts have killed hundreds of humans!”
“That’s not true!”
“This one’s going to be slaughtered! Get the fuck off of my property before I do the same thing to you!”
“I’m not leaving without Pal!”
There was a pause.
“I’ll pay you!”
Of course, I didn’t believe in the slavery of vampires, but I was prepared to pay for one if it meant saving their life. I didn’t have the money on me; I held a couple thousand in the building society, or so my parents said. I knew that the price of a live vampire of Pal’s perceived “quality” was going to be around £400, but his skin could’ve been much more.
“How’re you gonna pay for a bloody vampire?” Hawk asked.
“I have lots of money in my building society,” I told him. “I can offer £400, if need be.”
He smiled wickedly. £400 was a lot of money; a lot of money to buy more equipment, another vampire off of another farm, or perhaps another werewolf hunting dog.
On the other hand, this was a vampire that deserved to be made into a pelt, and his could sell for £600 or so. Yet, he still smiled, for he actually, deeply down, liked this little girl before him.
“Alright,” he chuckled, having lost his anger. “I tell you what. You pay me £400 and work off the rest by working for free. But, if that vampire gets away from you, he’s fair game again.”
Well, that was that sorted, for now at least. Pal was safe, and I kept my work here.
Hawk walked over to Pal, who tried to back away. I looked at Hawk, stern and concerned. He just smiled as he undid Pal’s chains.
I was excused for the rest of the day on the promise that I would work extra over the weekend.
You should’ve seen my parents’ faces when I came in with Pal! “Who’s this?” Mum asked.
“Mum, Dad, please don’t be too alarmed,” I began, as I noticed the horror still present upon both of their faces. “This is Pal. He’s like another parent to me, a great friend. I love him. I saved him from slaughter today.”
My mum and dad had known of my love of vampires for a while now. I could tell.
“But dear, it could eat you! It could-“
“Please don’t say it! And he won’t! He’s lovely! He will just feed off of the blood of consenting donors who sell it. There’s a vampire shop in town. That’s what most vampires do. They’re not the evil demons we have been led to believe.”
“That’s right,” Pal chimed in. “I would do anything to protect your daughter.”
“Creepy!” Mum yelled. “You’re much older than her!”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “He won’t hurt me.”
“Okay, but if he shows any signs of bloodlust or wanting to harm you-“
“He won’t!”
“Where will he sleep?” Dad asked.
“Do we still have my old wardrobe? The one that grandad made that had that crack on the side?”
Dad nodded. “It’s in the garage.”
“We can use that. We’ve got some spare bedding, haven’t we?”
Dad nodded again.
“We can leave it in the garage as well. It’s nice and dark and cobwebbed. The sun can’t get in. It’s perfect for a vampire.”
“Great, I suppose you now need us to go to that vampire shop and get some blood for your friend. Will they still be open now?”
I laughed a bit. Parents can be thick, can’t they? I mean, he seriously asked if a vampire shop would be open at night!
“Yes, they’ll be open alright. Do you need any blood right now, Pal?”
Pal nodded. “I haven’t had a pint since last night. I’m parched!”
So I headed out to the front door, followed by Dad and Pal. Pal and I still had our shoes on, but Dad had to slip his on. Mum came out to ask if we needed her, but I said that I didn’t. Dad chuckled and said, “No, don’t you worry. We’ll be able to get it all by ourselves, Roisin, me and this here bloodsucker of hers.”
I looked at him scornfully. “”Bloodsucker” isn’t politically correct; they are vampires.”
“Well, it’s true. That’s what they are and what they do.”
I could see that Pal only looked a little offended and was probably less offended than I was. But I did not like the sentiment that that word implied.
“Please, Dad, don’t use vampirist language!”
He then started to look a little cross. “It’s my own home, I can say whatever I like.”
“Just please don’t say anything offensive about vampires!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Now, let’s go and get some blood.”
Dad climbed in the driver’s seat. I asked Pal if he wanted to drive, but he said that he never learned. Dad made another unpleasant remark, this time muttering that he wouldn’t trust a vampire to drive.
I didn’t say anything this time. Instead, I just gave him the look. This is a look that I had used on occasion to warn the offending person.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Dad, smiling slightly. I could tell it was going to take him some time to get used to living with a vampire.
When we finally got to the vampire shop,the scent of vampire blood incense, the different types of blood and the old wood from which the shop’s floor was clearly built all met my nose. The light of the full hunter’s moon reflected on the glass walls on both the front of the shop and the right side (it was attached to another building (a garage, I think) on the left side). Pal and I didn’t say anything at the entrance. Our expressions of concern were enough to do the talking. As I have previously mentioned, the sale of blood directly to vampires is illegal and very secretive business. Pal had previously explained to me, whilst we were being driven to the shop, that the last illegal seller in our town had recently been caught, fined and threatened with imprisonment, forcing her to move on to another town. He had explained that he didn’t know where she had moved to. So this was not a pro-vampire shop that generally sold directly to vampires. Rather, it was the opposite; it was a shop aimed at doing business with vampire hunters, selling vampire products and selling poisons, traps, stakes, gas and other equipment and weapons for the vampire hunters. Needless to say, Pal stayed outside the door.
“Hello,” I said, greeting the shopkeeper.
“Hi there,” he said, sounding perhaps surprisingly friendly for someone who made a business out of killing and cruelty. Still, though, he could obviously tell that my dad and I were both human. “How can I help?”
He glanced outside. He saw Pal, but Pal, quite sensibly and thankfully, had his back turned, so the shopkeeper couldn’t see his red eyes and scarcely noticed his pale skin. For all he knew, he could’ve been a particularly pale vampire hunter.
“Where is the blood?” I asked.
“We have a vampire infestation in our neighbourhood and we need to do something about it before our problem gets any worse.”
“Well, I admire your quick action,” he replied. My heart palpitated, as I noticed the shopkeeper glancing outside again. “Certainly, it’s right over here,” he said after a pause.
I remembered Pal previously saying that O-negative was his favourite, but I thought that he might need more than that.
I found the O-negative and picked it up. The shopkeeper then pointed out that the blood on the very right end of the wooden shelf was his own and that it was very attractive to vampires, so I picked up a large vial of that as well.
“Do you need any acid?” He asked, pointing me to a shelf filled with acid intended to kill poor vampires.
“Nah, you’re alright,” my dad said. “We already have some.”
The shopkeeper, a little suspicious, shrugged and merely said, “Okay.”
After my dad had paid for the blood, we left the shop and went back outside to go home with Pal.
On the way back, words were spoken mainly with looks. Pal kept gazing over to me, smiling, his eyes saying that he would protect me. Then, he would gaze into space, as if lost in some unsavoury and undesirable past. My dad would also look at me and smile, but then he would turn to Pal, eyebrows raised as if in shock and anger at first and then pushed down as his eyes formed a hard glare. He would then resume his focus on his driving.
At one point, my dad made eye contact with me at the same time as Pal and then locked eyes with the vampire. The expression in his eyes became more forgiving. Perhaps he saw the level of protection that I knew that Pal had for me? My dad’s expression then turned doleful with worry. From the way that he had looked at Pal, I could tell that he had began to understand that Pal meant me no harm.
When we finally pulled up outside my lovely home, which was to be Pal’s temporary home as well, my dad kindly asked Pal to stay in the car whilst he got out and talked to me, to which Pal sensitively obliged.
When we got out, I noticed that my dad’s eyes were doleful and filled with concern and warning once again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Roisin, there’s no easy way to say this. When I was younger, I laid traps for vampires. I only did it for a couple of weeks. I gave it up after one caught my eye. She was the only one I ever caught. She was vicious and defensive. Yet, I saw a creature who just wanted to remain, you know, undead. I undid the trap. She must’ve thought I was gonna stake her or something beforehand, though. She bared her fangs and lashed out until I told her she could trust that I wasn’t going to kill her. I got scratched. I set her free though. She obviously had no intention of biting me, though.”
“She was probably thirsty and didn’t want to run the risk of taking too much blood,” I told him, smiling at the thought of my dad letting the vampire go unharmed.
Dad pulled out his neck and pointed to a space between his neck, chest and shoulder. There, I could see the scar of his vampire scratch. “I have never told anyone about this before. Not a single living person.” He glanced over to Pal. “And I certainly never told any undead soul!”
“That was why I was worried. I know what a vampire can do. They can bite and scratch so painfully.”
“But they can also steal your heart,” I added.
When we arrived home, and when I finally got to bed after nearly tripping over the cat and then undressing and getting changed into my PJs, I mentioned to Pal, who was sitting downstairs in the living room, reading a newspaper that I assumed Dad must’ve left out, that he could now go and clean my teeth. I also told him that Dad would get that old wardrobe out for him tomorrow but, for now, he’d have to make do with napping on the sofa for his nightly nap.
“Okay,” he said, chuckling and smiling a bit. I then put my arm around him and looked into his eyes.
“Pal,” I said softly, after finally preparing myself to ask the next question. “Do you know anything about how vampires came to be so vilified by humans?”
“Well, other than the fact that we were just always seen as monsters from the fact that we drink blood,” he began, still speaking softly and lovingly. “I think I can shed light on this. When I was a young human, many, many moons ago, I lived in a small village near London. This was Haverfield, with its most famous point being Haverfield’s Crescent, a statue of a crescent moon in the town square. That village no longer exists; after it was supposedly taken over entirely by diseased vampires, it was burned to the ground by the Government. All the humans were purposely sought out and warned beforehand. The Government even forcibly evicted people who opposed this, people like yourself. These vampires were not evil; they were infected with a rare virus known as Ro.17, named after the scientist who accidentally created it in laboratory animals. His name was Marius Roverson. His son, a certain Albert Roverson, happened to be an apprentice vampire hunter. At the time, vampire extermination was even more of a booming business than it is today, with reports of vampire activity reaching mass hysteria already, due to the so-called news of vampires arriving from Europe and especially Africa and attacking humans, sometimes killing three or more in one night, because they, like the rest of the Africans, so foreign and newly discovered to the British, were supposedly violent and savage. In reality, I met a few of the ones who weren’t infected and these vampires admitted that their kind would have only taken what they needed, but the vampires that were thought of as the so-called monsters had actually become infected on their way over here. They explained that their kind were only leaving their African homelands due to the increased colonialism, racism and violence in their homelands. This disease is still about, although because of the efforts of the vampires who were concerned to strongly advise and eventually arrest or fine those who didn’t quarantine if they tested positive using one of the Vampire Council’s Ro.7 test kits, it is rare. The Vampire Council are still working very hard to contain the disease, which was caused by human experimentation, I will remind you. This disease did not create vampire hysteria; humans will naturally fear and just want to kill anything that would be perceived as a threat to them, it’s human nature. Vampire extermination efforts by humans, who were and remain mostly unaware of this disease, also helped to curb it, I will admit. But hear me now, when I say that with combined and compassionate efforts of the vampires and the humans, vampire extermination will be completely unnecessary. Ro.7 may still be about, but violence, oppression and prejudice are by far the more prevalent diseases.”

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/773746/sponsors/new?token=kjWwPHcxyjg3xjvutjtw
Require all prison inmates convicted of animal cruelty to only be served 100% plant-based food in order to introduce them to a kinder lifestyle and to provide incentive for them to never break animal cruelty laws, such as the Animal Welfare Act, again.
Requiring all prison inmates who have ever been convicted of illegal animal cruelty, including those who have been imprisoned for other crimes as well, to be served only plant-based food and drink during their entire prison sentence would introduce them to a lifestyle opposed to animal cruelty, deterring and preventing future illegal animal abuse, and also result in an overall reduction in the animal welfare breaches and environmental harm inherent in these industries.

Please sign and share, or at least tell me what you think of this idea.
Thank you.

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/773746/sponsors/new?token=kjWwPHcxyjg3xjvutjtw
Require all prison inmates convicted of animal cruelty to only be served 100% plant-based food in order to introduce them to a kinder lifestyle and to provide incentive for them to never break animal cruelty laws, such as the Animal Welfare Act, again.
Requiring all prison inmates who have ever been convicted of illegal animal cruelty, including those who have been imprisoned for other crimes as well, to be served only plant-based food and drink during their entire prison sentence would introduce them to a lifestyle opposed to animal cruelty, deterring and preventing future illegal animal abuse, and also result in an overall reduction in the animal welfare breaches and environmental harm inherent in these industries.

Please sign and share, or at least tell me what you think of this idea.
Thank you.