The Villain Is Really The Hero [FICTOID]

“I would not recommend the chicken with paprika here,” said Count Mordred.  “Quite dreadful.”

“I’m going to slay you!” the young vampire slayer shouted.

“Hmm?  Oh, yes.  Quite, quite.  Very well, do your worse, but try to be finished by the time the entrée arrives, hmm?”

The vampire slayer unleashed his full repertoire on Count Mordred:  Stakes, crosses, holy water, garlic, even fisticuffs and chewing gun.

Nothing worked (though the count did roll his eyes in disdain at the gum).

“Are you done?” he asked as the waiter brought his main course.  “Are you quite done?”

“…yeah…” said the vampire slayer, panting heavily from the exertion.

“Good.  Now, sit down and let’s discuss this like civilized human beings -- “

“You’re not human!”

“Point taken.  All right, like civilized beings.  

“What do you want -- and please, don’t say ‘to slay you!’  Sounds so childish a motive.”

“Well…you kill people…”

“Who says that?”

“…well…people, y’know.”

“No, I don’t know.  Elucidate, please.”

“Well, you drain people of blood…”

“I have never drained anyone of blood -- at least not in the last fifty centuries.”

“But…you’re a vampire, a foul fiend from hell -- ”

“Oh, please, stop with that infuriating gibberish.  I realized long ago that if I kept draining victims, I’d son end up with no humans and a world full of hungry vampires.

“I think ahead, young vampire slayer.  I realized I needed to find an alternate food source to keep our numbers down and spare human lives.”

The vampire slayer’s eyeballs grew as large as sand dollars.  “No!  We’ve been tracking your kind down -- “

“We let you think you kill us so we can move on to new locales.”

“But…how?”

“Witchcraft.  Witchcraft modified meat, to be precise,” said Count Mordred, biting into his blood red steak.

© Buzz Dixon