The night that the villagers lost their memory was the night that everything changed.

Nothing seemed to happen at first. Everyone went to work, to school, spent time at home. But when night fell, disaster happened.

First, the sheep and cattle were found drained of blood. The furious farmers all complained to the police and it even appeared in the local press (Stokeley really was that boring).

Then a few homeless people were found dead in the streets. Followed by a couple of people coming home from nightclubs.

About six weeks after the incident up at the castle, it happened.

Vampires flew about.

They swooped above the houses and fields and retreated to the castle at dawn. There were records of fights between the vampires and the normal people, people being bitten and found at their homes, weak and unable to recall what they did.

Then, it got worse.

Chloe Branaugh was in the kitchen, helping her mother cut up onions. The blinds rattled in the wind and she slammed up, groaning.

She'd been having nightmares recently, of vampires and darkness and somehow had lost about a year of her life. Recently, she'd been stammering, staring and waking up at night, but it didn't last. Her parents and the twins weren't exactly themselves either, but were just as perky and happy as normal again.

Robin, however, was catatonic.

He barely spoke, ate or drank, along with insomnia and talking about nightmares. He kept mentioning the name 'Vlad' quite a lot. But whenever he was…'somehow' there…he said he didn't know why he said that.

The name seemed to mean something to Chloe as well, but it seemed like an almost forgotten dream from years ago. As if she knew there had been a dream, but didn't recall what.

Chloe had finished chopping the onion and happened to look up and into the garden. She stopped when she saw a figure there. A tall, looming man in a cloak.

"Mum?" she asked warily, as Mrs Branaugh turned.

Her mother scoffed, "Oh, just some drunk. Don't worry, I'll sort it." As Elizabeth went outside, Chloe heard her shout at him to get away, making shooing motions with her arms, as if talking to birds.

The man simply walked closer, up to her.

Bearing his teeth.

"Mum!" Chloe shouted and then Mrs Branaugh ran back inside the house, slamming the door.

Mr Branaugh ran down the staircase, holding the plunger, after rushing from the bathroom. "What is it?" he asked, worriedly. As Chloe would later think to herself, it seemed as if he were about to defend his family with nothing but a plunger for a weapon. Which would be stupid, but undeniably terribly brave.

Mrs Branaugh just pointed outside. "There! It's something! And I have no clue what!"

"What is it, Mum?" Ian had come out of watching a movie in the living room. Then he saw the figure outside, by the window. "Big ugly thing, isn't he?"

The family all retreated into the living room, where Ian's twin sat down, mesmerised by the movie. Mr Branaugh argued, "Well, it's definitely a case for the police." He picked up the landline, but then groaned. "Nothing."

Paul asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing," Mrs Branaugh tried reassuring him, "it's fine."

"Vampires."

The family all turned to see Robin standing in the doorway. As usual, his eyes were wide and staring and he was uncommonly pale, even more than normal. For what seemed the first time in forever, he was wearing his vampire cloak.

"Robin, what did you say?" Mrs Branaugh asked, coming up to her youngest son.

"Can't let them in," he was saying, as Mrs Branaugh looked behind him, "they need permission. Never let them in. Never let them in. Never…"

Mrs Branaugh held her son's head close to her chest, but his expression didn't change. As if he hadn't even seen his family.

Chloe licked her lip. Memories flickered of the castle and the dark and vampires. Things she had pushed away.

Her parents were inclined to ignore Robin. After all, he had been sick and acting like a zombie. But then when Mr Branaugh saw the same man drain a housecat of blood on the road, he started to think that maybe all the weird stuff around could make sense.

It seemed, bizarrely, the only logical thing to think.

Stokeley was in uproar the next day.

People were buying garlic by the bag. Salt was also rapidly disappearing. Planks and nails and crucifixes and tent pegs were all being brought by the terrified village.

It seemed as if Stokeley had accepted the idea of vampires. But none of them wanted to flee. After all, this was their home. Where they grew up, had families, had roots.

They weren't going to let vampires drive them out. They needed to be stopped first.

The curfew went up instantly. Everyone had to be home at sunset. Children, adults, the lot. If you were outside after dark, you were stuck.

It seemed to work. Whenever people peeked through the boards, they saw vampires walking around, looking angrily. Pets seemed to just vanish. And as for the sheep…people just didn't talk about what went on. Nobody would believe them.

No-one at all.

Three months passed in a sad, dark blur.

All the life seemed to have been sucked out of Stokeley. Not literally, obviously, but no-one smiled or did exciting times any more, even when it was light.

But now winter was approaching and it was more important than ever to stay indoors.

Chloe noticed that not everyone had kept to the rules. Mr Jones, from the corner shop, he had disappeared. A few kids from Robin's class had been found drained of blood after they left school early to kiss in the woods. An old man had been found in his house, dead.

People acted as if they had gone back two hundred years. The monsters loomed all around and no-one could tell who was one.

At Christmas, there were no presents or celebrations. Chloe only looked out through the window and saw her. A tall, skinny female vampire. She seemed somehow familiar, Chloe thought as the vampire stared right into her, the light showing off a small smirk. The name 'Ingrid' seemed to materialize in Chloe's brain.

She was distracted from her thoughts by her dad asking, "See anything, Chloe?"

Chloe answered, "Just one tonight. She seems…pleased."

Graham's brow furrowed. "That is not good news." He walked back to the living room, where he went back to sitting down, facing the back door with a shotgun.

Chloe just walked upstairs to her bedroom. Robin's door was open, as it was most nights. Robin was lying on his back, looking up to the ceiling, as he had most nights. But tonight, he was saying one thing over and over.

"Vlad?"

Chloe went to her room, wondering how this was all going to work. She was twelve years old and a skinny, small girl on top of that. How could she defend herself against a vampire? They were everywhere.

After Christmas, she sometimes saw the female vampire standing outside her house, staring. Once she waved. It was as if she tried to fit why she knew the vampire, but nothing happened.

"This is pathetic," Ingrid groaned, as she lay back on the throne in the Great Hall. The fellow vampires were all around the table, drinking an 1863 Lord from the wine cellar. The breather food had run out ages ago and the hall looked as if a bunch of feral cats had ripped it up. For once in her life, Ingrid wished Renfield was there.

"We are supposed to be the undead!" she shouted as she stood up from her throne and waltzed around the room, "The night-walkers, the nightmares of breathers and vicious beyond evil! How many breathers have we killed in six months? Eight. Three of them were homeless freaks that we had to make sure weren't using."

"We're scaring them, Ingrid -" a Dutch vampire spoke out.

"Princess of Darkness!" she shouted, lightning flashing outside. She looked out of the window, pressing the top of her finger against the glass. "The breathers are in hiding and we scare the valley. But we need blood, everyone, or we will run out."

She turned around. She smiled carefully, arching her fingers. "How about a challenge? I make the vampire who pleases me my second-in-command."

Muttering went all around the room.

Ingrid answered, "Thought so," as she strode up, "bring me Eric Van Helsing. Preferably alive."

She held up the sole remaining goblet of blood. "A toast," she called, "to Stokeley being run with blood!"

Mina felt hopeless. She could still remember snippets of the vampires and it was slowly coming back, but she still knew that they were out there. Jonathan wasn't much better – he'd stared into space for a few weeks, but eventually came round and started blathering about going up to attack.

Mina managed to talk him out of it by telling him that the vampires might not even be there any more, due to it being the most obvious place.

But Eric was another story. He acted like a mental patient, screaming at night and running outside at night, shouting at seemingly invisible vampires. Why they hadn't attacked so far was a mystery to her.

She really thought about getting out of there, away from the vampires. But she knew it would do little for Eric. Now she was sitting on the steps to the caravan, looking out at him trying to turn another branch into a stake. The pile was now almost as high as the caravan.

She asked Jonathan, "Jonno, I don't know what to do. I mean, how do we help him?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Maybe slay a vampire?"

She shook her head and held her hand up. "This – this is way more than I can handle. Those creatures are everywhere."

Jonathan smiled at her, trying to cheer her up. "Well, they can't get us if they stay in here, can they?"

The lights went out in the caravan.

They heard the flapping of wings above them. Louder and louder, nearer and nearer, even louder than the heartbeats in their ears. Mina stood up, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Eric! Eric, get inside!"

"Vampires." He whispered to himself, looking around, waving the half-whittled branch around.

"Get away! Get back! Don't hurt me!"

He'd become a wimp.

Mina and Jonathan watched in horror as creatures began appearing all around them in the dim light from outside.

They all kept descending. Around seven of them closing in on him. Then she appeared.

Ingrid came up, closer to him. "Well, well, Van Helstink," she spat, "you're just as useless and pathetic as ever. Except now you're a scaredy-cat."

Van Helsing had his hands over his neck, screaming loudly and begged for his life.

Ingrid sniggered. "Come on, then. Who wants to be my second-in-command?"

"No, please…" Mina thought aloud.

But then what seemed to be the most violent rugby match in the world started. Three vampires immediately descended on Van Helsing, clawing at his face and chest. Another attacked his neck, biting his knuckles first. Two played tug-of-war with his body, dragging him across the ground. Ingrid watched, as if mildly interested in what occurred.

Even though Mina had few feelings left for her ex, she still felt a tear run trickle down her cheek.

When the vampires had finished, Ingrid asked, "Right, who bit first?" a tall, skinny Estonian vampire answered.

Ingrid grinned. "Right, err…"

"Eha."

"Eha, you are my second-in-command. The rest of you…you have a second chance to please me, as soon as I think of one."

As they flew away, the two survivors sat in silence. Dawn rose and the sun creeped closer to the centre of the sky. At that time, Mina finally got out, avoiding looking at what was her ex-husband, sat in the drivers' seat and began driving away, not looking back at Stokeley as they drove over the mountains.

As Ingrid looked out over the dark village between the mountains, she thought about what she wanted to have next.

While the vampires had either flown home or stayed to carry on making the castle a mess, some were shouting. They wanted breathers and they wanted them now.

Ingrid decided to set a new challenge. This one would be the cherry on top of her grand scheme to drain Stokeley of its blood. As she stood by the throne, she arched her fingers again and faced the three dozen vampires slumped, bored, in the chairs or on the chandeliers.

"I have a new offer," she spoke, "and this is going to be exciting."

"You promised us blood and fear!" a German vampire argued, sitting up in his chair, banging the table. "And what do we have? Sheep! Sheep are not a challenge!"

The other vampires started to agree, all glaring at Ingrid with cold eyes.

Ingrid frowned. "I wanted a party. A horrifying party. We swoop down and hide in shadows, snatch breathers are they go. Remember, wear really big cloaks and hang by front doors. Take breathers back here for a blood party. And my biggest prize, the ones that I will personally offer, as servants or as meals or as new vampires, are one family in particular. The Branaughs. The wretched family that dressed up as vegetables. It's been nearly six months; they'll be desperate, tired, taking risks in the dark to survive. So we can pick them off."

There were murmurs and it seemed as if this was a good idea. Then Ingrid snapped her fingers. "Well, go on, then!"

Chloe was in her room when they attacked. Her dad had gone out to get the washing in before night fell. Honestly, it was as if they were in the Dark Ages!

Chloe sat up when she heard a noise. What was it? She spun around quickly, eyes darting. Looking out of the window, she saw nothing on the ground. Still, she didn't want to ignore it.

As she walked out of the room, she felt dizzy. The room seemed to spin and she was light-headed. I need to get a drink, she thought, as she walked out. As she did so, she seemed to hear voices. Snippets of voices, from a thousand conversations, all with the same people.

The inside of a dark castle. It had to be the castle up by the village. There was nowhere else she could think of. Sure, all spooky castles melted into one, but this one seemed to draw to her. Lightning, blood, gothic, they all seemed to rush at her inside her mind.

A blurry figure in her mind's eye. A boy. A name whispered to her, in the back of her mind.

Vlad.

"Vlad." She spoke aloud. It meant something. What?

Then there was a tap nearby. It seemed to be coming from Paul and Ian's room. "What?" she heard Paul groan in his near sleep.

The tap again.

"Come in, then!" she heard him snap.

"Pleasure." A voice answered from inside.

Chloe swung the door open and saw. A tall, thin male vampire draped in furs was standing there. Paul jumped out of his bed and onto the floor in fright, his lower half getting wrapped up in his duvet. Ian was shuffling up against the wall in fear.

All Chloe could do was scream. She felt too scared to run. Her mind was telling her that's what she used to do, but her mind was just too woolly to think straight.

When Graham Branaugh heard his daughter screaming, he dropped the washing basket and looked up at the house. Three or four vampires had already gone in through the twins' window. Running, Graham raced inside and tripped over the sofa as he attempted to enter the hallway.

He then heard Elizabeth screeching at the top of her lungs. And the sound of the twins shouting for something to get off of them.

Graham reached the twins' room to find it empty. As he got to the window, he saw the vampires carrying five struggling figures across the skyline and toward the castle.

Chloe kicked at the air below her as the large, muscular female vampire held her in her grasp. All Chloe was doing was making herself tired, but what she couldn't understand was how – and she couldn't believe it – floppy Robin looked. He had a dazed look on his face and almost smiled. It was the first time he'd smiled in months and Chloe would have appreciated it, if they hadn't been eighty feet up in the air, about to be dinner.

"Weeeee!" she heard Robin faintly squeal. Chloe stopped pushing at her captor's beefy arm and looked at her brother properly.

"Are you completely mad?" she called above the noise of rushing air.

When they got to the castle, however, Ingrid had prepared everything for them.

Around fifteen other breathers had also been taken, by their front doors or out in their gardens. Problem was, quite a number of paranoid breathers had taken refuge in the churchyard every night and it was unheard of for any vampires to try and attack there.

Still, she had a good catch. And they were all being scared, their blood ready to suck from their vibrating veins.

Eight of the breathers, including the Branaugh females, were being held in wooden cages from the roof of the Great Hall. A few of the younger vampires were swinging on the cages, terrifying the lot of them.

Chloe held out an arm from between the bars to her mother, before a vampire swung further back, causing the girl to scream. Elizabeth was cowering inside the cage, as if having a terrible flashback.

Meanwhile, the twins and the other captives were being held in the dungeon. Ian and Paul slumped on the floor next to each other, their arms raised above their heads and shackled to the wall. The Russian vampire who had imprisoned them there had snapped, "Be grateful. Maybe you'll be a half-fang, and not a meal. I myself wouldn't mind having a boy with a good spirit, but I don't want to damage the goods, so behave yourself!"

When the door locked, Ian had asked, "What do you think he means?"

Paul then asked, "How long do you think we'll be down here? What do we do?"

There was silence for a few moments.

Then Ian started.

"A thousand bottles of pop on the wall, a thousand bottles of pop…"

Ingrid had decided to give Robin an ironic punishment. He was chained inside one of the coffins in the crypt. She had gone down herself to see him.

She had leant over the edge and smiled, "Long time, no see, Robin. Do you even remember me?"

He'd looked up at her with wide eyes and the dazed look about his face. "You're prit-tee." He giggled.

Ingrid sighed. Vlad hadn't mind-wiped him; he'd given him a lobotomy! As she thought about it, maybe the longer you knew about the existence of vampires, the longer your mind-wipe stayed or how powerful it was. Robin had believed in vampires all his life. Maybe it was why Van Helsing hadn't been much of a threat. And Robin spent so much time inside the castle, no wonder he was like a ragdoll.

Then she looked deep into Robin's eyes and asked, sweetly, "Do you remember me?"

Robin murmured, "Ingrid. Oh, hi, Ingrid." He seemed a lot chirpier now. "Can I have a kiss?" she slapped his face and then walked back upstairs. Still as obnoxious as ever.

Meanwhile, the auction had begun. Six vampires had asked to have their choice and the selected breather would be paraded in front for them to choose.

The cages were all shoved together and a victim was taken out one by one. The first choice was an elderly woman who lived a few doors down from the Branaughs. As she was pushed out, cowering and begging, Ingrid gave the voiceover.

"This breather is an old bag who hasn't got much time left. Well, we are saving the best for last. Any takers?"

There was a small murmur and soon the old woman went for only a hundred old Transylvanian coins. The taker had the woman taken to the dungeon, where he said he would have her. Apparently, he said old European women tasted like fruitcake.

The next one was much appreciated by the buyers. A girl from Ingrid's year at school. A nasty little blonde moaner, so Ingrid was glad to be rid of her.

A Portuguese vampire paid for her and seemed very happy about it.

The others quickly went. A dentist to the Russian vampire, draped in furs ("she'd be a great servant – I need someone to help my fangs"), a small woman with dyed blonde hair to a French vampire, a middle-aged nurse for five hundred old Russian coins ("I had a new partner") and so on.

"The last item is a bargain. Can come together or separately. Elizabeth and Chloe Branaugh," Ingrid read aloud and clapped her hands as the two females were dragged out in front, chains wrapped around their waists and clasped with a padlock.

The six vampires immediately started squabbling.

"I've preferred my victims be to mature women," a Chinese vampire in black silk said to Ingrid, "I'll give three million yen!"

A younger, American vampire shoved him out of the way. "I've always wanted to have a mother and daughter," he giggled, "Nick likes to stir the pot."

"I like children," a Danish vampire with long hair and scraggly beard interrupted, liking his lips, "they're such screamers."

"Blondes are my favourite," a tall Japanese vampire in a pinstripe suit from the Twenties called out, "skinny, feisty blondes."

"That one's too small!" a German vampire groaned, "The mother's more my type. She'd be mighty fine in pearls."

The last one argued, "I go for twos. Always had my victims in twos, me. I like to drain one, then the other, make a nice selection as I swirl both bloods in my mouth at once. I've never had British gals, before. And I'm pretty sure the older one will make a fine spouse."

"I give ten thousand Transylvanian coins," a voice called out loudly, "and not any more."

The crowd parted to show a figure in a cloak and cowl. Ingrid sat up from her chair. "And that's a promise?" she asked.

The figure nodded. Ingrid shrugged and then Chloe was pushed forward to the figure, who then held her upper arms in an iron grip. Elizabeth, however, was pushed towards the other six vampires. The figure seemed confused and then asked, "But I paid for both."

Ingrid smiled sweetly. "Sorry, but you didn't say if you wanted both."

The figure then dragged Chloe out and into the corridor. She was screaming the whole time, struggling against the chain and sobbing.

Then he pushed her up against the wall. She began slipping a little and just shook her head from side to side, pleading, "No, no!" he pulled the cowl down and then her eyes widened.

"Dad?" she whispered, as Graham Branaugh nodded. "Do you know where the boys are?" he asked her, as he unlocked the padlock.

She nodded, the chains falling to the floor. "The twins are in the dungeon. I saw Ingrid force them down there."

As they rushed down, Chloe then held his wrist and asked, "Dad, do you – remember being in the castle?"

Graham blinked slightly. "Vaguely. I remember you and Robin having a friend here. Can't remember his name, however."

Chloe nodded. "I was up in the cage, trembling and sweating. I could remember a few things." She groaned. "It was mostly a blur. But I could remember a boy. Vlad. And Ingrid, the head vampire, she's his sister. I don't know what happened to him."

Graham held his daughter close and hugged her, as he let Chloe cry into his shirt.

Ingrid had just sold Elizabeth Branaugh to the German vampire for a thousand franks. Now she was lying back in her chair as a tower of wine glasses were set up, ready to be filled with Welshwoman's blood. All seemed well. She's bring the twins up soon, hypnotize them into being little lap-dogs, just as she'd fantasized for two years before everything went haywire.

Will would have loved this.

She stiffened as she thought of him. She squeezed her eyes tight. It was dangerous to get emotional in front of this lot. But whenever she thought of Will, she'd think about how he should be king, next to her as she sat on the throne, by her side for eternity.

But still, she was wrecking Stokeley and that was what she wanted.

Chloe followed the mumblings from the corridor as she ran.

"Twenty-seven bottles of pop on the wall, twenty-seven bottles of pop…"

As Graham unlocked the door, he looked inside. Among the dazed, terrified prisoners, he could see his two elder sons sagged by the stone wall. "Dad?" Ian asked as the prisoners all turned to look at the open door.

"We're here to help you," Graham assured him, pulling at the shackles, "Where's Robin?"

Paul muttered, "I think Ingrid took him down to the crypt." Paul grinned inanely as he looked back at Ian, "Ingrid's still hot, isn't she?"

"She's a murderer!" Chloe pulled a face.

Ian mumbled, "So?"

Ingrid had gone back down to the crypt. She told Robin, in a bored, dulcet tone, "Well, looks like you're finally going to become a vampire. So, what would you prefer? The oak coffin, the ash coffin or the deluxe mahogany lined with red satin?"

Robin held his head up and tried to look over at her, which was really hard seeing as he could barely move. "You mean it?" he asked, almost overjoyed. Then he frowned, as if trying to desperately remember something. "But…Vlad…argh! I know I had a friend, and I know his name, but I can barely remember what we did."

Ingrid replied, "The mindwipe's still strong on you. Anyway, isn't this what you always wanted?"

Robin's smile faded. "But what about my family?"

Ingrid snorted. "You don't let family pull you down." Then she told him, "Well, the twins and Chloe are still in the castle. I'd have them drained if you want."

Robin seemed to think about it. "But, what about Mum?"

A loud, ear-piercing scream seemed to come from upstairs, chilling Robin to the bone as he looked around.

"I'm afraid she won't make it." Ingrid answered.

Chloe listened from outside the crypt door, hearing Ingrid chuckle from within. Graham and the twins stood behind her, waiting nervously. Graham had pulled a poker from a backpack ("always be prepared, Chloe") and was waiting. This was it. The most vicious vampire of the group. And they were going to get out of here.

Chloe stood in front of her father, sweat running down her forehead, as she kicked the door open and strode through. Ingrid looked at the Branaughs as they trooped in.

"Well, well, the whole family's turned up. Pity Mummy's dead."

Graham tensed up with fury as he shouted, "You filthy –"

"Hey, watch the language. Your kids are here." Ingrid snapped. Then she asked, "Well, don't you want to be vampires? Robin's pretty happy about being undead."

"I'm not." His quivering voice came from the coffin. "Not really. I still want to live."

Ingrid rolled her eyes and groaned, "You're never happy."

The twins walked quickly past her to free Robin, as Ingrid kept her eyes focused on Chloe. "You were always a whiny, little brat, Chloe Branaugh. And look, I had you just where I wanted. Be grateful I didn't order you ripped limb from limb like Van Helsing. I was going to be lenient, but I can see you're all just a waste of space, just like I always said. Well, I'm thirsty. And when a vampire's thirsty…" she giggled, as the five of them began backing up the stairs, "I need blood."

Before she could strike, Graham held the poker at arm's length. She stared at it, unsure of what to think. Then she laughed loudly.

"Seriously? A poker's the best you can do? You always were stupid, Graham."

But then he used his other hand to slam the crypt door shut. Ingrid froze for a second, then began banging on the door. She started screaming, as the Branaughs ran up the stairs and out of the front entrance.

As Graham hopped into the car, on top of which were their belongings and furniture piled some feet high, all held down with tarpaulin, and the boot and most of the back seats cluttered with bags and food (including a string of garlic hanging down from the mirror), the rest of them shoved their way inside.

The vampires had now sighted them and were flying over, shrieking.

"Go!" Chloe cried loudly, as Graham pressed his foot on the pedal.

Chloe and Robin, sat in the back seat, watched behind them as the castle became a blink in the rising sun.

When outsiders finally came to Stokeley, they found that bodies were littered everywhere. The people still barricaded inside their houses were jabbering wrecks and the government did their best to hush this up.

An estimated seventy percent of the village had died, mostly the old, feeble and ill. Others had fled.

But even when the castle burnt down, after an attack by angry survivors coming back, no-one dared live in the village any more.

The village haunted by the rumours of vampires.