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    Contract Vampire: A Storyteller's Collection: Vol. 1 Short Story
    Contract Vampire: A Storyteller's Collection: Vol. 1 Short Story
    Contract Vampire: A Storyteller's Collection: Vol. 1 Short Story
    Ebook94 pages1 hour

    Contract Vampire: A Storyteller's Collection: Vol. 1 Short Story

    By Stephanie Writt

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    About this ebook

    Contract Vampire
    Encased in a life of rich women and frozen corpses, George balances his two jobs (vampire fantasy icon & on-call body boy) with ease. But the need for a real purpose propels George to the breaking point. He wants more from his life (undeath) than his contract allows. In a desperate grab at freedom, George tests the company’s definition of “termination.”

    “Contract Vampire” can also be found in “Storyteller’s Collection: Volume 1 of 10 Stories from Your Favorite Genres.” Its complete short story list is:
    • Rebellion of the Princess of Argon
    • Once Every Year
    • Walk of Power
    • Twin Competition
    • Valley Girl Vampire to Save the World
    • A Future Song
    • Stranger That Saved Her
    • Contract Vampire
    • Unstoppable Force
    • Flight of Little Bird

    “The story [A Future Song]...left me feeling satisfied and touched.”
     – Charles de Lint

    The Storyteller's Collection Series
    Vibrant stories from all genres populate this eclectic series. Each story a complete telling that will take the reader, from beginning to end, on a character driven ride. Volume by volume, all packed with dozens of new characters. See, hear, feel and taste their journeys to places spicy and exotic. And to places as warm and familiar as home.


     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWayne Press
    Release dateFeb 6, 2017
    ISBN9781386457626
    Contract Vampire: A Storyteller's Collection: Vol. 1 Short Story

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      Book preview

      Contract Vampire - Stephanie Writt

      Contract Vampire

      Contract Vampire

      A Storyteller’s Collection: Volume 1 Short Story

      Stephanie Writt

      Wayne Press

      Contents

      Contract Vampire

      Read and be happy!

      Want to read more in this collection?

      Free Story: 1st in Geriatric Magic’s: The New York Collection

      Geriatric Magic

      Want to read more in this series?

      Free Story: 1st in Tony & Gage’s: The Junior Year Collection

      The Day Tony Earned Detention

      Want to read more in this series?

      Preview: Love & Jinx

      Part One

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Love & Jinx: Want to finish reading?

      Also by Stephanie Writt

      About the Author

      Contract Vampire

      As the on-call body boy for the southwest side of Portland, OR, George rarely had to deal with the wretched smell of a dirty body. Most of the ladies (and they were mostly ladies) smelled of a lingering floral perfume, laced with the musk of death, that cost a month and a half of his rent. Littered with diamonds, at times, George never snagged one off a body to pawn for extra cash, though they would never need them again. Everything on the body stayed with the body.

      That was part of the contract.

      After each body pick-up, as George watched a Control Team roll up to capture, detain and roll away with the vampire (usually new to the business) that had lost control and killed a client, George thanked his (not always) lucky stars that his version of the and incidental duties as assigned… of his contract had not been to become a member of a Control Team.

      Wrangling prettied-up rag doll bodies with a brown stain down one leg from their bowels relaxing in death into a body bag and then into his Subaru Outback (company car to be used on company excursions only), stood head and shoulders better than having to deal with a staff member in violation of their contract crying and begging to the Control Team as they hauled them away.

      Or having to do the take down.

      George took interest in which vampires ended up in a fight, or who took the flight method. Some collapsed into a heap that just needed to be swept up into the full body restraints and the jaw block (that looked like something from a horror movie mixed with medieval dental headgear), poured into the truck bed, and casket seal thrown.

      The only cool part of being on the Control Team was the freakin’ sweet ride they had.

      If Ford did a F-350 as a four wheelin’ hearse, fully decked out with chrome grill and off-road tires, lifted and polished to a slick raven-feather sheen, that may come close to their Control Team-mobile (George’s nickname for it). Made his Outback look like a moving blemish on the road. George wondered if the thing could take flight. If so, then maybe he would want to shift departments. Maybe.

      Like any night after he got a call, dropped everything and anything he happened to be doing, and bee-lined it for the indicated location of the pick-up (‘tragedy of accidental death’), he took the body back to his place in the country just outside of town, rear end kissed his car to a locked metal hatch in the back wall of his house, and slid the body down a chute into the basement.

      From there he would park his Outback in the driveway, like any normal human, and resume his previous activity.

      The chute led into a basement freezer (designed and installed by the company), where the bodies piled up until the monthly night drop at the Mountain View Funeral Home.

      George hated the monthly drop.

      With the passion of a thousand burial fires he dreaded the transfer of the body-bagged popsicles from the freezer to the refrigerated truck (company issue, delivered on night twenty-nine and picked up on night one), then drove the twenty-six point two miles to the Funeral Home, backed up to the rear entrance, and stacked up the bodies in a designated spot indoors, conveniently located to the crematory ovens. Ten in total, the most ovens on the west coast of any funeral home.

      Daug (pronounced Dog – human, hairy, over-weight, strange), George’s crematory contact, explained on George’s first visit the grand history and phenomenal birth of Mountain View, as the premier Funeral Home. George summed it down in his own mind to one thing – they were under contract.

      Probably had built the extra ovens to handle the nightly deliveries from all of the other body boys in the area. He figured Daug had told him that at some point, but George listened as little as possible.

      No matter how much he wanted to bolt, to not hear the blast of the furnace as the bodies took light, sizzled as they defrosted and steamed at incredible speeds, not have his clothes drenched in the reek of baked death (which was torture to his heightened senses), George remained contractually obligated to ensure that each and every body had ashed down and been accounted for.

      Once the final body had been swept into a little oak box, George signed on the bottom line, and escaped back into the night.

      It had been years since George had finished his four years (turned eight due to the war) and had limped off the army green C-140 with nothing but pain, loneliness, fear.

      Dead friends and absent family made the offer to sign away his life for eternal security and surety appealing. And they sold it to him with like any recruiter.

      Excitement.

      Eternal life.

      Incredible abilities.

      And the women.

      All the beautiful women a man could handle.

      And more!

      He would live a charmed life (undeath, whatever).

      …just sign on the dotted line.

      The Company had fulfilled their side of the bargain in spades, and even an attempt at hearts. The body-boy job only a sideline. On an as needed basis only. Not his day job.

      George had signed the contract to be

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