Set during season 2. It came to me in a dream...
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Let's start at the end...
It's easy to see why the regular folk may mistake them for vampires, when in actual fact they are not a member of that mythical race. Only very few of the humans have actually seen them for what they are and lived to tell the tale; although the trauma had sent them mad. Perhaps this is another acceptable reason for this capes, coffins and bats nonsense that the public drivelled into the media. There are a few similarities but mainly a whole bunch of differences, brought up by their very last victim to date. He wanted to tell the world what they really were before his untimely death. He said it all into the tape recorder:
They're like vampires but not, uh, Jesus Christ... fangs, yeah they ain't got no fangs. But their teeth are hard. Freakin' hard. They can chew through the flesh, muscle, whatever. Shit. I can hear them... uh, pale, very pale, but that's nothing to do with blood, I read that book – that old book! Betsy gave it to me... oh, Betsy... um don't mistake their charms, it's all a rouse.
Ah, shit, they've found me. Okay, real quick – they don't want to drink your blood, they want to reproduce, that's why it seems like you become one of them afterwards – crap... they're at the door!
Nox Noctis Peregrinus – that's what they're called. We call 'em the Noxy. It translates, but... no. No, they're here. Ah... ah...!
This is where the tape recorder cuts off. And that was the last victim of the Nox Noctis Peregrinus.
One Percival Ulysses Cox.
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Back to the beginning...
They were sat in the cafeteria eating their lunch when JD held up the book for all to see. "I bought it at a creepy Halloween-y place downtown."
It was large, bigger than his head, and thick with yellowing pages that were crisp-sharp at the ends. The cover was leather, dark red and look like it had been waxed on. Golden words were printed on the side, front and back of the book, saying the words: "Ancient Dark Spirits". A piece of silken string held a chapter where the last person had been reading up to, and this is where JD opened it. Inside, the pages seemed clean and unnaturally kept for such an old-looking book. The words were laid on in ink, and the pictures drawn on. On the page that JD had it open, there were small words scribbled everywhere as if this was just a notebook belonging to a messy writer, and the inked drawing was of a person with another person chewing on their arm.
"Eww." Elliot crinkled her nose at the picture, and at the odd odour that the book had released.
"Vampires!" JD grinned excitedly. "But all this is in Latin, except for that poem. I bought it so that I could find some authentic lines for Dr Acula, which we start filming for real tonight, Turk. No more cell phone cameras, actual big ones this time!"
"Awesome, dude!" Turk high-fived his Vanilla Bear and pointed at the image before them. "That looks more like a flesh-eating zombie than a vampire."
"The store clerk insisted I was on the right page," JD frowned. "Besides, it was only when I got home that I realised the poem was the only thing not in a different language. But we can still use it, it sounds so cool."
"Hey, baby, you're Latina, right?" Turk asked. "You could translate it for us!"
"You guys are idiots." Carla announced, using her spoon to play with her soup.
"I actually think that they're being productive," Elliot grinned into her sandwich. "I wish I had half the attitude to keep at something like that. I usually get bored after a few weeks."
"I could never get bored of my screenplay," JD looked sad for a moment. "Anyway, Turk, help me with this. How can I get this poem into the scene where Dr Acula announces his undying love for Dr Largenboobies?"
"I dunno, just stick it in." Chocolate Bear shrugged. "When a dude starts rambling on with big words and that, no one really listens. They just go 'ooh the writer must be clever to come up with that'."
"That's true," Carla nodded. "But you're still both idiots."
"Alright," JD ignored that comment and scribbled down something in the book. "How's this sound? Dr Acula turns to Dr Largenboobies, bracket, with sad eyes, end bracket, and says: O ye of humble mind, studious words of kind, speak with confident strife, plunge heartily the word-smith's knife, cast the spell of ages, shatter the love with delicate pages, and not for the fragile day-walkers sake, from our slumber we shall awake." JD rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "No, that sounds like nonsense. Scrap that."
"True that," Turk was also looking confused. "There was nothing good there. I still say you throw a werewolf in there or something."
"That's too obvious!" JD sighed. "Ah well, I'll figure out something. Hey guys, you all coming round to ours tonight to christen our new video game, right?"
"I'm not really into games," Carla mused, staring at her now empty plate. "But I guess if it means drinking wine, then sure. Plus I do kinda live there, you know."
"Oh yeah," Turk pretended to have forgotten, stroking his chin wisely and smiling broadly at his girlfriend.
"I like video games!" Elliot shrieked. "Seriously, once, we had this way cool racing game at home and me and my brother would constantly play on it and try to win each other but I would always beat him because of my bicep-strong pinkie-fingers and thumbs."
"Nice story," Carla joked.
And so commenced the lunch time chatter. Unbeknownst to them, the 'poem' spoken by John Michael Dorian was slowly but surely awakening a dark ancient force. And the world would never be the same again.