Right, this short story idea comes from me and the good folks over at Later Levels (see AI Dungeon: a year-long story). During a New Year’s Eve live stream, I came up with an OUTSTANDING prompt for AI.

One about vampires wanting excellent employment contract perks, such as free sandwiches each morning.

I’ve decided to have a BITE (see?!) at this as a short story idea. Be prepared to be terrified to your very core. Also, don’t forget to check out Fiddlesticks the Destroyer from last week. Do it. NOW!

Vampires Ordering Sandwiches: A Short Story of Blood Suckers, Fillings, and Crusts

Synopsis: Tired after a night of work, a bunch of vampires head to a greasy spoon café before the sun rises. Their goal? To cadge some sandwiches before they hit the hay for the day.

Cast:

• Valerie the vampire
• Vyvyan the vampire
• Vera the vampire
• Frank the greasy spoon proprietor

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The vampires clocked out for the night from Vampire Enterprises Ltd. factory and headed straight to the local greasy spoon café.

It’s their favourite. Because it does fantastic sandwiches.

The sun wasn’t up yet, which was just as well. If it was there then the vampire colleagues Valerie, Vyvyan, and Vera would all now be dead. Instead, they were HUNGRY after bleeding humans dry all night and wanted some hearted comfort food.

Shuffling their way into Frank’s Café, with big cloaks swooping behind them, they took in the downbeat greasy spoon emporium situated on a street corner and home to truckers and Back In My Day types.

The vampires confidently glided up to the counter, only to meet the blunt and unwelcoming stare of Frank. He was standing in his stained apron, hands on hips, shaking his head.

Frank: No. I said, your kind aren’t not welcome ‘ere, you bastards!

Valerie was expecting this, so decided to put on a charm offensive and win over the grotesque proprietor.

Valerie: Now, now, Frank, we are in here every morning! Just get us some sandwiches and we will be out of your hair in no time! Haha! What little hair you have got left, that is!

The vampires all chortled about that line, with Vera snickering merrily whilst wiping blood and saliva off her lips as she eyed up a bacon butty being prepared in the background by the café’s cook.

This joke didn’t go down well with the very bald Frank. Rolling his eyes and wagging a finger at the vampires, he rolled up a copy of The Daily Express and began brandishing it at them aggressively.

Frank: Comin’ in ‘ere, makin’ jokes about me ‘air! Bastards! And all for what, eh!? Look at this! ‘ere!

Frank turned his head to one side and jammed a grubby finger against the vampire bite marks on the side of his neck.

Frank: You bastards have been at it again! Suckin’ me bloody blood! Then think you can come ‘ere and get some bloody sandwiches, made by me, right now!? OUT WIT’ YER! Go on!

Valerie was willing to admit he’d raised a solid point for non-service. Normally he refused them as he didn’t like how pale they all are and how, as vampires, they have this gliding way of floating across rooms—as if disembodied. Frank sure hates the floaty, sliding bit… they couldn’t do anything about it! It was how vampires moved about.

But today, sure, Frank was sort of on the money with a refusal.

A new tactic was in order to ensure sandwich foodstuffs were delivered in haste—Valerie was aware they had less than 15 minutes before the sun was up!

Valerie: Oh yes, sorry about that, Frank! That was me. Apologies, you were just on my rota for the night so I was under strict instructions to get you. Tell you what, I’ll pay you double for a cheese and tomato toastie then we’ll call it evens.

Frank’s eyes bulged out of his head. This was a very real anger, he was even turning a bit purple as the full reality of this situation struck across the grey matter encased in his skull.

Frank: IT WERE YOU!? Why I oughta throttle yer within an inch of your life!

Valerie: Well, that’d be assault, Frank, so I wouldn’t…

Frank: OUT! OUTTA MY RESTAURANT NOW, YOU BASTARDS!

Valerie: I think “restaurant” is a very optimistic description for this establishment, Frank.

Frank was now waving the rolled up tabloid around in the air whilst huffing and puffing. Valerie clocked he didn’t seem to have it in him to cause any physical turmoil, he was more of a sayer than a doer.

This bought more time to haggle for sandwiches.

Valerie: Yeah, sorry Frank. It’s nothing personal, we have a contract of employment to stick to. Like I said, rustle me up a cheese and tomato toastie and we’re out of here!

Vyvyan: I WOULD LIKE A CURED BEEF AND SMASHED AVOCADO SANDWICH WITH A SIDE ORDER OF CHICKEN LIVERS AND andeggo hehheawfdnn fwriir…

Vyvyan’s ranting become incomprehensible due to the mass of saliva pouring forth from his hungry, fanged mouth. Vera jabbed him in the ribs.

Vera: Vyvyan! There’s no need to shout like that!

Vyvyan: Sorry…

Frank wasn’t listening, anyway, his expression was blank and his face had shifted into an intense red colour. The situation kind of stalled out for a bit as the vampires waited for Frank’s brain to process what was happening.

From the kitchen behind him the cook, Doreen, came over with a disturbed expression on her face. She was clutching the bacon butty Vera had spied. Before Doreen had a chance to do anything, Vera was on the case.

Vera: Human! Give me the bacon butty and be at peace.

Doreen stepped back a moment in uncertainty. Then she ignored Vera in a battle axe kind of way before roaring out for a customer called Dave. An enormous gentleman emerged from the rear of the greasy spoon café and lumbered up to the counter, reaching out to clutch at the bacon butty whilst grunting, “Ta, love!”

Dave then sneered at the vampires and lumbered off out of the establishment.

Valerie, Vera, and Vyvyan were hungry and running out of time! A quick glance outside showed the sunrise was breaking out. It was now or never. Either they haggled hard or there’d be no delicious sandwiches this morning.

Valerie: Doreen, any chance you could cobble together a bacon butty or two?

Vyvyan: Three! Three bacon butties with mayonnaise.

Vera: Vegan mayonnaise for me, please! Thank you.

Vyvyan: What? That does not make any sense, you are not vegan.

Vera: No, but I am watching my waistline, unlike you! And the vegan alternative is the best for keeping the pounds off.

Doreen: PISS OFF you pale pricks! Look what you’ve done to me ‘usband! Blind with rage, ‘e is! Why should I serve you right ‘ere, right now, eh?!

The vampires shuffled on the spot nervously. Then Valerie had an inspired moment and realised she could barter with this individual to win her over and claim the delicious goodness for their pre-bed snack.

Valerie: We have fiscal renumeration for you, far beyond mere “money” you humans rely on so dearly! Here, behold!

Valerie rustled in her handbag and drew forth multiple human hearts she’d acquired that night, a foot she’d ripped off a particularly stubborn individual, and a small supermarket bag containing various entrails. She dumped all of this onto the café counter and all the innards and effluence spilled out and sploshed all over the counter and floor.

Frank and Doreen hit the roof.

The hollering was so vociferous an onslaught the vampires had to make immediate haste and get out of there. Once forced out on to the street, Frank violently shut, and locked, the door in the vampires’ faces. He stood there just behind the door eyeing them angrily, effing and jeffing, his blotchy fat face still filled with the rage of someone who’s been properly done over one.

The vampires, their stomachs rumbling, turned and shuffled hurriedly back home to their coffin caskets. For sleep was the only route for them now.

Valerie: We shall try again tomorrow, colleagues, for I really fancy trying their egg butty.

The vampires agreed as they floated across the awakening streets, the humans heading to work making sure to take a wide berth around the pallid, fanged fiends as they bustled into their human offices craving cheap coffee and sausage rolls.