Dracadder
HERE COMES THE LEGAL PART: Blackadder is the intellectual property of John Lloyd, Ben Elton and all the rest of them. It is the corporate property of the BBC. BTVS is the intellectual property of Joss Whedon, and the corporate property of FOX. I have no intent of gaining profit from this story.
Once again, warmest thanks to Deathtramp who managed to squeeze in Beta reading in between her own job and the fun stuff.
Into every generation there is born a man One who will stand along side the thickies, the rich, and the innocent. And exploit them for all they are worth.
He is the Blackadder
+++
What has gone before: In thirties London, Blackadder's theories on the non-existence of Vampires have been proven wrong when he finds himself in the clutches of his former friend, and current Vamp Gordon Flasheart
+++
Chapter 2: and now for some REAL power.
Edmund awoke. His mouth felt like it was on fire, and his blood felt cold. He tried to piece together the events of the night before he opened his eyes. He went to see the stupid vampire film, ordered a glass of whiskey to impress Elizabeth and then, something about Flasheart attacking him, even though he was dead. Edmund quickly put the hallucination down to the one tiny sip of grog that he took. With a great deal of care and attention he opened one eye. His vision focused on white. He realised that he was under a sheet of some kind. Blackadder sat up and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He looked down upon his body and found that he was naked.
"But no sheep this time." He said aloud "Which is a plus." His body seemed more pasty and gaunt than usual. Perhaps there was something wrong with the drink that he had been sold. Perhaps Edmund could bribe the owner of the establishment - a thousand pounds a year for keeping quiet about his alcohol poisoning seemed a fair enough price. Already things were starting to look up for him.
He looked around his room and found that it was not indeed his room, but some sort of hospital. Edmund got off of his bed - which was quite cold and hard, the reason behind it being that it was not a bed, but a metal trolley.
He looked around at the other patients, and found that they were laid in the same position he had been laid in. The doctors had covered them all up with their sheets. A nasty horrid prank - one worthy of himself, Edmund admitted.
He decided to see how his fellow patients were faring, and whipped back the sheets to one of them, and was immediately taken aback by the stench of death. Hardly surprising since the chap himself seemed to be dead. People with skewers through their heads tended to be so.
"Okay, who's behind this sick joke?" Said Edmund aloud. "While I salute you for your originality, I'd be rather grateful if I could have my clothes back and be on my."
Suddenly a dark, dismal thought crossed Edmund's mind, one that revolted him so much that, shaking, he pulled aside the other sheets in the bed. One had died, apparently from choking, another from blood loss; the final had been decapitated. Blackadder sighed with relief - so he didn't get drunk and try to pull Baldrick!
As he looked at his arm, still clutching the sheet of the last body, he noticed in the blank space where the head normally was that the sheet was floating in mid air. He then ran to a mirror in the morgue, and noticed that he was completely invisible. He gave out a scream, but he was stopped by Flashheart, who put his hands around Edmunds mouth.
"Welcome to the club, Eddie." Said Flashheart. "And I don't mean the Friends of Flashheart's flash bits - WOOF!"
The thought began to settle in. Edmund was indeed a vampire, a killer, and one who would live forever. Blackadder smiled to himself and the blood lust began to take hold. In addition Edmund felt a hunger that had not been felt in those of his bloodline since the first Blackadder, or rather The Black Adder. A smile crossed his face. He lowered Flasheart's hand down.
"At last, a chance for some real power!" said Edmund.
Flasheart shot him a warning stare. "Steady Eddie, just because you're a vampire like me doesn't mean the birds will be dropping their knickers as soon as you walk in the room. Also, there are some weaknesses."
"Yes, yes, I've read the book." Interrupted Edmund. "Crosses and holy water - but I don't go to church. Daylight, well I never did get up before noon, and I'd like to see the fellow who can get up after having a stake rammed through his heart or getting beheaded."
Flasheart's face was still stern. "Wait now, there's supposed to be this girl born into every generation, they call her the Slayer. She has all these special powers, and my sire says that she's really hard to kill."
The grave expression on Flasheart's face lightened as he continued. "Although I reckon she'd let me kill her if I showed her a good time." He punctuated the sentence with a crude pelvic thrust. "But you aren't the sexy beast I am, and from what I remember at school you were always getting your head kicked in by the bullys, so mind your Ps and Qs."
"I'll do just that, " said Edmund. "Well, half of it at least. So, P off!"
Flashheart turned his back and left, whilst Edmund considered his first victim.
+++
Blackadder arrived at his home. The lights were on - he hoped Baldrick wasn't nicking the silver now he was dead. Then he paused for a moment. Actually chances were that Baldrick was probably nicking the turnips. Still he had plans for Baldrick, but first he had to take care of George.
He entered his house and saw George, crying his eyes out in the living room. Baldrick was stood in the corner, looking dismayed. Finally, Blackadder pushed the ajar door open and revealed himself to his 'companions'.
"Hullo Boys!" said Blackadder
"Mr B you're alive!" Exclaimed Baldrick
"Balders, you told me he was dead, you bally fool!" exclaimed George.
Edmund chuckled "Actually, and believe me, I would rather run naked covered in dog food in Battersea dogs home than admit this, but for once, but Baldrick is 100% correct. I am indeed dead."
"Ah, so it was all a white wash eh? Being dead isn't as fatal as they make out! It must be a conspiracy between the governments of the world and the funeral homes of the world." Said George genuinely fascinated.
Bladckadder rolled his eyes "No, normally, death is the end. but when you're bitten by a Vampire, it's just the first step." Edmund's face twisted and contorted into that of his demonic visage. George's face merely held a confused expression.
"No, I don't follow." He said.
Blackadder put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Even in death, he couldn't escape the thicky twins.
"OK, one more time." Said Edmund. "I was killed by a Vampire. I was made into a Vampire afterwards and now I am a Vampire."
George's gormless expression didn't change. "Ah. and so what does a Vampire do then?"
"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Blackadder, still bearing his demonic mask "You only watched Dracula last night! Have you forgotten it already?"
"Oh, you mean that frightful fil - yes I rememb-arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh" The realisation dawned on poor George and he began to cower.
"Ah, now that's better." said Edmund. He swooped forward and sank his teeth into George's neck and drank the toff's blood
Edmund let his body fall and savoured in the euphoria that came from his feeding from his former friend. Baldrick yelped, and tried to leave. Blackadder didn't want to let his servant get away; he leaped after him, and caught his shoulder in a vice like grip.
"Please sir, please don't bite me!" begged Baldrick
"Baldrick, I wouldn't bite you if you were washed, scrubbed, de-loused and served with an 1901 vintage wine and a blindfold for me. No, I have plans for you my boy."
+++
What does the sinister Edmund have in store for our little troll? R and R, and you might just find out!
HERE COMES THE LEGAL PART: Blackadder is the intellectual property of John Lloyd, Ben Elton and all the rest of them. It is the corporate property of the BBC. BTVS is the intellectual property of Joss Whedon, and the corporate property of FOX. I have no intent of gaining profit from this story.
Once again, warmest thanks to Deathtramp who managed to squeeze in Beta reading in between her own job and the fun stuff.
Into every generation there is born a man One who will stand along side the thickies, the rich, and the innocent. And exploit them for all they are worth.
He is the Blackadder
+++
What has gone before: In thirties London, Blackadder's theories on the non-existence of Vampires have been proven wrong when he finds himself in the clutches of his former friend, and current Vamp Gordon Flasheart
+++
Chapter 2: and now for some REAL power.
Edmund awoke. His mouth felt like it was on fire, and his blood felt cold. He tried to piece together the events of the night before he opened his eyes. He went to see the stupid vampire film, ordered a glass of whiskey to impress Elizabeth and then, something about Flasheart attacking him, even though he was dead. Edmund quickly put the hallucination down to the one tiny sip of grog that he took. With a great deal of care and attention he opened one eye. His vision focused on white. He realised that he was under a sheet of some kind. Blackadder sat up and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He looked down upon his body and found that he was naked.
"But no sheep this time." He said aloud "Which is a plus." His body seemed more pasty and gaunt than usual. Perhaps there was something wrong with the drink that he had been sold. Perhaps Edmund could bribe the owner of the establishment - a thousand pounds a year for keeping quiet about his alcohol poisoning seemed a fair enough price. Already things were starting to look up for him.
He looked around his room and found that it was not indeed his room, but some sort of hospital. Edmund got off of his bed - which was quite cold and hard, the reason behind it being that it was not a bed, but a metal trolley.
He looked around at the other patients, and found that they were laid in the same position he had been laid in. The doctors had covered them all up with their sheets. A nasty horrid prank - one worthy of himself, Edmund admitted.
He decided to see how his fellow patients were faring, and whipped back the sheets to one of them, and was immediately taken aback by the stench of death. Hardly surprising since the chap himself seemed to be dead. People with skewers through their heads tended to be so.
"Okay, who's behind this sick joke?" Said Edmund aloud. "While I salute you for your originality, I'd be rather grateful if I could have my clothes back and be on my."
Suddenly a dark, dismal thought crossed Edmund's mind, one that revolted him so much that, shaking, he pulled aside the other sheets in the bed. One had died, apparently from choking, another from blood loss; the final had been decapitated. Blackadder sighed with relief - so he didn't get drunk and try to pull Baldrick!
As he looked at his arm, still clutching the sheet of the last body, he noticed in the blank space where the head normally was that the sheet was floating in mid air. He then ran to a mirror in the morgue, and noticed that he was completely invisible. He gave out a scream, but he was stopped by Flashheart, who put his hands around Edmunds mouth.
"Welcome to the club, Eddie." Said Flashheart. "And I don't mean the Friends of Flashheart's flash bits - WOOF!"
The thought began to settle in. Edmund was indeed a vampire, a killer, and one who would live forever. Blackadder smiled to himself and the blood lust began to take hold. In addition Edmund felt a hunger that had not been felt in those of his bloodline since the first Blackadder, or rather The Black Adder. A smile crossed his face. He lowered Flasheart's hand down.
"At last, a chance for some real power!" said Edmund.
Flasheart shot him a warning stare. "Steady Eddie, just because you're a vampire like me doesn't mean the birds will be dropping their knickers as soon as you walk in the room. Also, there are some weaknesses."
"Yes, yes, I've read the book." Interrupted Edmund. "Crosses and holy water - but I don't go to church. Daylight, well I never did get up before noon, and I'd like to see the fellow who can get up after having a stake rammed through his heart or getting beheaded."
Flasheart's face was still stern. "Wait now, there's supposed to be this girl born into every generation, they call her the Slayer. She has all these special powers, and my sire says that she's really hard to kill."
The grave expression on Flasheart's face lightened as he continued. "Although I reckon she'd let me kill her if I showed her a good time." He punctuated the sentence with a crude pelvic thrust. "But you aren't the sexy beast I am, and from what I remember at school you were always getting your head kicked in by the bullys, so mind your Ps and Qs."
"I'll do just that, " said Edmund. "Well, half of it at least. So, P off!"
Flashheart turned his back and left, whilst Edmund considered his first victim.
+++
Blackadder arrived at his home. The lights were on - he hoped Baldrick wasn't nicking the silver now he was dead. Then he paused for a moment. Actually chances were that Baldrick was probably nicking the turnips. Still he had plans for Baldrick, but first he had to take care of George.
He entered his house and saw George, crying his eyes out in the living room. Baldrick was stood in the corner, looking dismayed. Finally, Blackadder pushed the ajar door open and revealed himself to his 'companions'.
"Hullo Boys!" said Blackadder
"Mr B you're alive!" Exclaimed Baldrick
"Balders, you told me he was dead, you bally fool!" exclaimed George.
Edmund chuckled "Actually, and believe me, I would rather run naked covered in dog food in Battersea dogs home than admit this, but for once, but Baldrick is 100% correct. I am indeed dead."
"Ah, so it was all a white wash eh? Being dead isn't as fatal as they make out! It must be a conspiracy between the governments of the world and the funeral homes of the world." Said George genuinely fascinated.
Bladckadder rolled his eyes "No, normally, death is the end. but when you're bitten by a Vampire, it's just the first step." Edmund's face twisted and contorted into that of his demonic visage. George's face merely held a confused expression.
"No, I don't follow." He said.
Blackadder put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Even in death, he couldn't escape the thicky twins.
"OK, one more time." Said Edmund. "I was killed by a Vampire. I was made into a Vampire afterwards and now I am a Vampire."
George's gormless expression didn't change. "Ah. and so what does a Vampire do then?"
"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Blackadder, still bearing his demonic mask "You only watched Dracula last night! Have you forgotten it already?"
"Oh, you mean that frightful fil - yes I rememb-arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh" The realisation dawned on poor George and he began to cower.
"Ah, now that's better." said Edmund. He swooped forward and sank his teeth into George's neck and drank the toff's blood
Edmund let his body fall and savoured in the euphoria that came from his feeding from his former friend. Baldrick yelped, and tried to leave. Blackadder didn't want to let his servant get away; he leaped after him, and caught his shoulder in a vice like grip.
"Please sir, please don't bite me!" begged Baldrick
"Baldrick, I wouldn't bite you if you were washed, scrubbed, de-loused and served with an 1901 vintage wine and a blindfold for me. No, I have plans for you my boy."
+++
What does the sinister Edmund have in store for our little troll? R and R, and you might just find out!