I Love Twilight

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A dark comedy involving vampires, vampire hunters, the twilight hour and the Twilight novels

Submitted: February 21, 2009

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Submitted: February 21, 2009

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The girl’s first reaction was to lash out with the harshest words in her vocabulary. After all what else is there to do when some idiot bumps into you spilling a whole cup of some or other nefarious punch all over your very new and very expensive top?
"What the-"
"I’m so sorry," he cut her off, "I wasn’t watching where I was going, I was, I…"
Their eyes met and the girl inhaled sharply. He was gorgeous. But more than that he was pale, had coppery-coloured hair and golden eyes. In fact he looked almost exactly as she had though Edward Cullen of the Twilight series might look.
"It’s no problem," she said quickly, "it’s just a top."
"No, no," he said quickly almost as if he were snapping out of a trance, "I was being an idiot and not watching where I was going. Please, allow me to get you another drink."
"If you insist," she replied as she got lost in those beautiful eyes.
"I do," and he gently took her hand in his.
She followed him dreamily towards the refreshment table and he got her another glass of punch.
"My name’s-"the girl said but the actual name was drowned away in the heady techno beat.
"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl," the boy replied when there really had been no way for him to have heard her name.
She blushed a bit but he did little more than smile at her with a charming and slightly crooked smile.
"Mine’s," he seemed to blush a bit, "Now don’t laugh! I know its bad with the way I look and the colour of my hair and all, but it’s Ed as in Edward."
The girl almost swooned. Her own, personal, charming Edward! She couldn’t wait to rub it into her friends’ faces.
"I don’t see why anyone would laugh at that," she replied quickly, "I think it’s cool."
"Really?" He said eagerly, "It seems I have found myself some truly pleasurable company. How about we step outside and chat for a bit? I can barely hear a thing over this music!"
She nodded and followed him out of the house and into a secluded spot in the garden. Of course, any young woman’s warning bells would have gone off by now, but the girl didn’t worry. As far as she was concerned she was with Edward Cullen himself.
"So," She asked as she sat down on a stone bench, "You mentioned Twilight and well, I personally love vampire stories, do you?"
The boy stood across from her and frowned.
"No, I actually I hate them," he replied, his all-American-boy accent slipping away to be replaced by a clipped British one, "most of these stories just create confusion about vampires and there habits in general. Some of the stuff people have written is really appalling. But I must say I have a truly special hatred for vampire romance novels. But hey, maybe I’m judging it a bit harshly; it did allow me to lure you all the way out here after all.
The dreamy smile fell away from the girl’s face, "What kind of sicko are you?!"
The girl’s muscles tensed as adrenaline pumped through her veins yelling at her to take flight. Unfortunately she did not move fast enough and before she could move the boy raised his hand and she was suddenly paralysed.
"Firstly," he said calmly, "I am not a sicko, I’m a vampire. Secondly, there is no need to be rude, or to run, or scream, or talk. In fact you don’t really have to do anything but sit there; you don’t even have to look pretty!"
The girl’s eyes widened as he sat down beside her and tilted her head to one side so that he could have better access to her neck. She wanted to scream but all that came out were a few pathetic whimpers.
"Now, now honey," he purred, "there’s no need to be afraid. It doesn’t hurt…much, and when you wake up you won’t remember a thing."
The girl’s whimpers became more urgent but the boy merely placed his hand over her eyes and gently ran his fangs along her artery and kissing the spot where he would bite.
"Nighty night."
***
The lift shuddered and groaned as it struggled to a stop on the fifth floor of the rather run down apartment building. The vampire sighed to himself as he pushed his way through the doors that never opened properly and made his way to his apartment. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The ad for the apartment said: Cosy apartment with a view of the heart of the city. Affordable and clean. It sounded nice and looked good on paper, but later he discovered that cosy actually meant small and cramped. There was a view of the heart of the city, provided the city’s heart looked like a brick wall. True it was affordable and the vampire would not argue with the statement that it was clean. The vampire had no problem with dust, there wasn’t a spec to be found; but he did however have a slight problem with the roaches that were the size of hand grenades and the rats the size of obese cats. He did a quick survey of the contents of the room (one day he had returned to find that the rats had made off with his couch and left only a few shreds of wood, stuffing and polyester to mock him.) before checking his phone. He had a message and he smiled to himself. He didn’t have to listen to it to know who it was. He dialled the number and put the phone on speaker phone.
"Hello?" came the familiar female voice.
"Hey there lover!" the vampire replied happily.
"Michael!" she squealed in delight, "I left a message but I didn’t expect you to phone so soon."
"What can I say," the vampire, Michael, replied as he pulled off the wig to reveal his long jet black hair, "I like to surprise you."
"And I like being surprised, how are you doing?" She continued.
"Quite good actually," he removed the gold contact lenses to reveal the natural blue of his eyes, "I discovered something new, and I’ve fallen in love with it!"
"Oh? Now I’m jealous," she moaned playfully, "What is it?"
He pulled off the beige jersey he had been wearing and smoothed down his black waist coat, "Its called Twilight."
There was a pause, "As in twilight the hour or Twilight the books?"
"The books," Michael replied as he popped his collar and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.
"You read them?" She asked in shock, "I though you hated vampire romance novels!"
"I read enough to establish the character," he amended, "And I still hate vampire romance novels, but I discovered something quite interesting. There are, and I tell not a lie, hoards and I mean hoards of girls out there who would claw out their best friend’s eyes to be able to go out with Edward Cullen. So all I have to do is dress appropriately, throw in a bit of Michael charm and dinner is served within moments. No effort and no real seduction required which means I can eat quickly and get to the party early. With Twilight you always get your girl."
"Sounds like a lot of effort to me, why not just go to a Bloodworkx?"
Michael wrinkled his nose at that, "Those places are so disgusting! Do you know how unhygienic the cattle they keep there are?"
"You’re such a girl sometimes," she gently chided him, "And I do believe the ladies prefer to be called "Hostesses of the night kin" rather than "cattle". But that is neither here nor there. I can’t believe you are exploiting young women’s desires to find their perfect man!"
"And why not?" Michael replied as he dropped down into his chair.
"It’s cruel to mess with them like that. And besides I find the romance between Bella and Edward just as cute as they do."
"Cute?!" Michael scoffed, "I believe unnatural is a better word! I mean really! Falling in love with a human? Please, did that boy’s mother never teach him not to play with his food?"
"Come on!" she protested, "It’s sweet how an unremarkable, clumsy girl finds the guy of her dreams and against the odds they work together at a wonderful relationship. Can’t you understand that?"
"No, what I so understand is that the guy hadn’t had a girl in like a hundred years and he was starting to feel it. I can forgive that for the duration of the first book he was enthralled by her but really, by the second book he should have figured out her personality. I mean after that fiasco in the beginning I would have snapped her neck and been done with the business all together!"
"Michael, how can you say that?!"
"Think about it," he retorted, "The members of your coven, beings that are hundreds of years old, take the effort to arrange an extraordinary party for the human whelp and then all she not only hates it but also doesn’t want presents, causes your brother to succumb to bloodlust and then had the final discourtesy of bleeding all over the floor."
"Sometimes I worry about you Michael."
"Sometimes I worry about you!"
There was a long silence.
"When are you coming back?" he asked.
"Not for a while yet," she replied.
"That’s what you said last time and the time before that."
"And it is as true now as it was then," she replied.
Michael sighed, "Goodbye lover."
"Ciao."
Michael sighed before putting the phone down and making his way out of his apartment. The night was young and there was still plenty of partying to do before dawn.
***
Annabelle Cornelia von Helsinger was in a foul mood. Her business had kept her out till the wee hours of the morning and worse than that she still had another ten or so minutes till the last train of the night arrived. She looked around the station and hissed through her teeth upon the discovery of a poster advertising the new Twilight movie. Annabelle hated Twilight. In her personal opinion it presented an entirely inaccurate depiction of vampires and in doing so put hundreds of young women’s lives in danger. It was through pure luck that most vampires had no love for vampire romance literature and had therefore not discovered the phenomenon. If they ever did discover it Annabelle was quite sure that there would be a world wide epidemic. The strong gust of wind from the train pulling into the station drew Annabelle from her thoughts. She stood up, smoothed out her skirt and stepped into the train. It was completely empty; but at such an early hour that was to be expected. She found a clean seat and made herself comfortable. She glanced around the train again and once it was well on its way she relaxed and closed her eyes. She had had a stressful evening and she was happy that there would be no more surprises that evening. After a while she opened her eyes; she almost jumped out of her skin. Sitting across from her, lounging casually across the four seats was a highly attractive, if somewhat pale, young man. He was looking at her with a slightly amused expression.
"I’m sorry," she said, "I didn’t notice you on the train before."
"That’s perfectly understandable," he replied in a pleasant British accent, "I wasn’t on it before."
"Ah," Annabelle continued, alarm bells ringing in her head, "Then you got on the moving train, how?"
"It was easy enough," he answered, "its dark, and I’m a vampire."
A Vampire! That was a problem.
***
Michael had seen no harm in telling her. After all, he was hungry and with a bit of charm he could use the situation to his advantage and have a quick meal before he disappeared into his apartment for the daylight hours. Michael frowned a bit as he watched her. There were four possible ways in which a person might react after being told that they were talking to a vampire. The first is that the person throws themselves at you and begs you to bite them and give them immortality. This not only shows that they are desperate but also that they are ignorant of the fact that vampires can choose who they infect, whether the person remembers the encounter or not and other little nigly bits like that that literature doesn’t mention. The second is that they show some good sense and become afraid. Thirdly, they don’t believe you and fourthly, they become very still and get a certain look on their face. That normally means that they’re vampire hunters and there was trouble coming. For a moment the girl was reaction-less and Michael began to worry that he had just revealed himself to a Hunter; then she laughed.
"A vampire?!" she chortled," Are you kidding? Vampires don’t exist!"
Michael grinned, "Then you had better start worrying, because you’re talking to something that doesn’t exist."
"Really now," she grinned, "I would believe you but is that the smell of alcohol I detect?"
"I admit," he said matching her grin, "That I am not as sober as I might be, but that does not make a liar out of me."
"Indeed," she shot back, "A vampire whose thirst for blood is matched only by his thirst for strong booze."
"Now, now," Michael retorted, "Do you really think it is wise to mess with a vampire?"
"No," She admitted, "Neither do I think it wise to mess with a drunk. But I would inform you that I have pepper spray on my person."
"My, my, dangerous then are we? I shall have to stop watching your mouth and start paying more attention to mine."
"Sounds appropriate," she agreed, "So, you’re a vampire right? Can you, like, go into the sun?"
Michael laughed, "of course I can, but I will admit that too much sun is not good for me. Then again, you could probably say that about most people."
"Ok," she thought for a moment, "If someone put a stake through your heart, would you die?"
"Of course I’d bloody die!" he scoffed, "The day you meet someone who wouldn’t you should start to worry."
"You’re not helping your cause by telling me how much you’re like everybody else you know," she groaned, "alright, next question. As a vampire do you have any special powers such as mind control, the ability to hear thoughts, you know, that kind of thing."
"What the hell is this? Interview with a vampire?" after a moment he grinned crookedly, "A guy’s gotta have his secrets you know."
His abilities were one trump card Michael never played unless he had a losing hand.
The girl looked away and they sat in silence as the train pulled into the station.
"Are you," she hesitated for a moment, "going to bite me?"
Michael grinned even wider, "Why, do you want me to?"
She shook her head and stood up as the train came to a stop.
"This is where I get off," she said as she made her way to the door.
"I didn’t quite catch your name," Michael replied.
"Nor did I yours," she shot back.
"Michael."
She smiled as she stepped off onto the platform.
"A girl’s gotta have her secrets."
***
Michael sat in his apartment thinking about the girl on the train as he waited for the twilight hour to fall. The phone rang and, upon recognising the caller ID he put it on speakerphone.
"It’s taken you long enough," Michael answered crossly.
"Is that how you answer your phone nowadays?" she shot back.
"Sorry, lover," he replied coldly, "I suppose a particularly icy ‘hello’ would have put the same message across."
"Michael, you’re overreacting."
"Am I?" he retorted, "You haven’t phoned me in a week!"
Although Michael had to admit that her lack of phone calls had not been the primary concern on his mind during that time. How many times had he gone to the train station in the past week with hopes of seeing the girl? Or more importantly what the hell was wrong with him?
"I’m sorry."
"It’s alright, I’ve been keeping myself busy and I guess I was overreacting a bit. How are you?"
There was a long silence on the other end.
"What’s going on Michael?"
"I don’t know what you mean."
She sighed, "Normally my not calling you would have left you devastated; now it’s alright?! Moreover, unless you have something interesting or exiting to tell me, you’re moaning at me about being away for so long, now it’s just a ‘how are you’! I mean, really Michael! What the hell is going on?!"
"Nothing really," Michael replied icily, "I met a great girl at the train station. She’s fantastic, but unfortunately still human."
"No one ever teach you not to play with your food Michael?" she replied cruelly.
"You know what?! I’m tired of you! You can go off for months at a time and play with the heart of any man-thing you find and I have to stay here a wreck of a man, moping in my apartment wishing you were here because I’m not complete without your presence or some other kind of bullshit like that! Well honey, I have news for you, it doesn’t work that way!"
"Honey?" she hissed, "Since when do you refer to me like you do to those mindless blond, girl-next-door floozies that you so like getting your teeth into!"
"Since when? Since you stopped deserving better!" he shouted, "But you know what? I’m gonna go out and have some fun with my human girl, so don’t bother calling, sugar, because I don’t think I’ll be back for a while yet!"
Michael cut the call and began putting on his Edward get up. It was still too early for him to go out because his powers were not yet properly active, but if he got some blood into him he’d probably be fine for the evening. He left the apartment in a sour mood. He wanted to talk to someone and there was only one person who he could think of who might fit the bill.
***
Annabelle hated these kinds of parties but in her experience they were the best places to find, business. She ran her hand through her hair as she looked out over the dance floor. It wasn’t even properly dark yet and the people were already inebriated. She began to push her way through the sweaty bodies. The pulsing beat was going straight through her head and the heady smell of sweat was making her a bit claustrophobic. She left a path of disgruntled dancers in her wake as she pushed out into the fresh air of the night. It felt good in her lungs and she felt slightly invigorated. It was then that she saw him. Standing under a tree watching the girls as they went past was the vampire from the train station. He was almost unidentifiable in his coppery wig and his all-American-boy outfit; but he was defiantly Michael, his aura was unmistakable. She made her way towards him and was inwardly disgusted. He was a near splitting image of Edward Cullen, which he was probably using to his advantage in order to pry on poor helpless girls. Damn Twilight! She knew this was going to happen!
"Hey there Michael," she was greeted with a bright smile, "or should I say Edward?"
"Michael will do fine, sugar," he replied, "what ya doin out here?"
"Sugar?"
"You didn’t grace me with your name remember?" He answered.
She smiled, "Considering you’re sober I see no harm in telling you. It’s Annabelle."
"Annabelle, a pretty name for a pretty girl," he said charmingly.
"I bet you say that to all the girls."
***
"You don’t know the half of it," Michael thought, aloud he said, "I do, but it’s been a long time since I’ve meant it."
"My, aren’t you charming!"
"Charming enough to get a date?"
She thought about it for a moment, "I would think…yes, but not dressed like that."
"That poses somewhat of a problem," Michael replied, "I can hardly shed my vestments here, but, I do live a mere ten minutes away and if we were to make our way to my apartment then I will be able to clothe myself appropriately."
"Is that an indecent proposal?"
"Do you want it to be?" Michael replied.
She smiled prettily, "Ah, the same sly wit you subjected me to in the train. Well, I do not want it to be an indecent proposal but I will accompany you to your apartment."
Michael smiled and led her off on the relatively short walk to his apartment building. He was rather surprised that she would so quickly agree to accompany a stranger to his apartment, but he wasn’t too bothered. After all, as far as he was concerned sorrow was best soothed in the arms of a pretty woman. It was not long before they found themselves in the rickety old elevator watching the door attempt to open to reveal his floor. It only got about halfway.
"Sorry about this," he said, "It’s a bit old."
"No problem," Annabelle replied, "I can squeeze through."
Michael smiled wolfishly to himself as she began to do just that. She looked hot trying to get through and her twisting and turning revealed several pleasant angles which she probably would not have liked him to see. He watched as her shirt began to rise up.
"Ah such a pleasant-"his thought was cut short by icy panic. He had only seen a fraction of the tattoo but that was enough.
***
Annabelle gave a sigh of relief when they were both through the elevator and making their way into Michael’s apartment. The twilight hour was almost upon them and she did not want to be there when darkness struck. They entered the apartment and after locking the door Michael went about the business of taking off his Edward getup. He removed his jersey to reveal an outfit much like the one he had been wearing when she had first seen him. It was only a few minutes before dark but Annabelle allowed him to disrobe. She would at least give him the decency of being able to look like himself when the time came. He made his way to the window to look out and Annabelle retrieved her crossbow from the hidden pocket in her coat and loaded it.
"It’s almost dark," he commented.
"I know," Annabelle replied,"That’s why I have to do this now."
She took careful aim. As it was twilight the vampire would not be at his full power; therefore she only needed, and only had, one bolt.
"Fair enough," He replied and he turned.
He was fast but at that hour Annabelle was faster. The bolt thudded home and he bent over and clutched at it desperately. He then stood very still, his black hair falling down and obscuring his face. Annabelle’s triumphant smile fell as quickly as the vampire’s smirk arose. He pulled the bolt out and then reached down his shirt and pulled out the book ‘Breaking Dawn’. It was the last and largest book in the Twilight series. Damn it! How had she not noticed that?!
***
Michael’s smile widened as his theory was proved correct; the Hunter, on account of hunting at twilight, had only brought one bolt. He pulled himself up to his full height; his hair falling away just enough to reveal one cold blue eye. The gambit was won; the twilight hour was over and the hunter had foolishly followed the old custom of hunting with only one bolt at Twilight. It was a hunter tradition because due to the weakened state of a vampire, one bolt would be enough to bring him down.
"Not a very good hunter are you?" he asked as panic quickly spread across Annabelle’s face, "Well, I’ll give you some advice that someone should have given you before, but you will never be able to use again. You don’t challenge a vampire at twilight and you never fight a vampire in the dark."
***
The phone rang and Michael gently tapped the speakerphone on.
"Hey there lover."
There was a long silence.
"Are you there?" Michael asked after a moment.
"I thought you wouldn’t answer."
Michael smiled to himself, "Evidently you have forgotten how hard I find it to stay angry at you."
"You know what Michael," she said, mimicking the way he said it, "You’re the most wonderful person I know!"
"Yeah, I do know that," he replied.
"And, well," she seemed unsure of how to start, "I’ve decided to come back; that is if it won’t interfere with you and your new girl."
Michael grinned widely, "Firstly, that’s fantastic, and secondly, it won’t."
"Oh?"
"You see, I had her up here about an hour ago…"
"I don’t think I want to hear the details Michael," she interjected.
"That’s good," he replied, "cause there aren’t any. Turned out she was a Hunter."
"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, "Are you alright?!"
"Of course," was the reply, "But all I’ll say is that with Twilight you always get your girl."
"As in twilight the hour or Twilight the books?"
"Both in their own ways," he answered, "but that’s really beside the point. All I have to say is that I love Twilight!"


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