Brian Helsing: The World's Unlikeliest Vampire Hunter Box Set 1 - Missions 1-3
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Brian tried his best, but he didn’t look very Helsingy at the best of times, let alone when he was wobbling with fatigue and clad in a wetsuit two sizes too small. A flurry of splashes from the water, then the shapes of Water Nymphs began to land all over the island, surrounding the pair in a furious ring, all hungry, all frustrated and all, to Brian’s renewed discomfort, very naked.
“God, would you all just put some clothes on?” he groaned. “You’re very distracting.”
“Indeed,” Pandora replied, with a snarl, striding closer, her webbed feet grasping with slippery rocks with no effort. “The amount of sailors we’ve lured to their deaths upon this very rock, no less, by distracting them with our beauty.” A sudden smile, and the creature changed in an instant, becoming now a slim maid of milky skin and golden hair, just like a mermaid of legend. “This form more to your preferences?”
“It’s not about preferences,” Brian told her. “It’s about being able to talk to you without there being breasts and such everywhere I look. It’s not normal behaviour.”
“It is for Nymphs,” she replied with a shrug, changing back to her true form with but a thought.
“Yes, well. You’ll forgive me if I find it all very distracting. I’m tired and cold and right now all I want is a good breakfast and a sleep.”
“Same,” Pandora replied, to a chorus of her sisters’ nods. “Which is why we’re somewhat pissed off to find ourselves dragged all the way out here just as we were about to chow down. How would you feel if you were just about to sit down to a full English and someone suddenly whipped it away from you at the last second?”
“It’s hardly a fair comparison!” Brian retorted. “My full English isn’t made of people!”
Pandora shrugged.
“And?”
“And? What’s ‘and’ supposed to mean? I would have thought it would be self-explanatory!”
“Your breakfast is bacon, sausages, black pudding; in other words, pigs. A pig had to die, that you might eat.”
“A pig isn’t a human.”
“And that gives it less right to live?” The Nymph laughed. “At least Scylla isn’t a hypocrite; she doesn’t want to eat animals, so she doesn’t eat any of them. Whereas you humans draw some arbitrary line and expect everyone else to abide by it. You find pigs so tasty you’ll discount their fear and pain. And that’s how we see you humans.” Scylla coughed at this and Pandora sighed. “Most of us, anyway.”
Brian rolled his eyes, then opened his mouth to retort, before pausing, realising he’d suddenly been backed into a corner. Her logic was actually quite sound.
“Well… that’s fair enough,” he finally admitted. “We’ve got a difference of world views going on here. And yes, I am a hypocrite, I’ll not try to deny that. But at the same time, I’ve got a job to do. And part of that job entails not letting people be eaten, be that by vampires, werewolves, or frustratingly naked fish-girls.”
“Well, it’s not like you can stop us,” Pandora told him, advancing a step closer, all her sisters about the rock doing the same, forming an ever-tightening ring of claws, teeth and other, less-lethal but still uncomfortable to witness, parts. “That was an impressive parlour trick, dragging us through the water like that. But now you’re unarmed. And very, very outnumbered.”
Brian gulped, glancing at Scylla for some kind of support. She shrugged and he sighed, having hoped for some kind of help from that quarter, but now realising neither of them had thought that far ahead.
“Come on, let’s talk about this,” Scylla told her sisters, raising her hands to ward them away from Brian. “Surely there’s some kind of compromise?”
An awkward silence descended, as the strange group all strived to think of a way out of the impasse. One of the other Nymphs spoke up, her voice higher pitched than those of Scylla and Pandora, though still with that strange, babbling cadence.
“Maybe we could just eat half of every surfer we catch?” she suggested. “And throw the other half back?”
Brian blinked, stunned, unsure whether the creature was being serious – and thus incredibly stupid – or whether she was joking.
“That wouldn’t work,” Scylla sighed. “They’d die.”
“Oh, I thought they grew their limbs back?”
“That’s starfish.”
“Ah. Yes, come to think of it, you’re right.”
“Well, I think we should just eat Helsing here,” Pandora declared, licking her lips as her eyes roved his shivering form. “All our problems are solved then.”
“You don’t want to eat me,” Brian told her hurriedly. “I’m stringy. I’ll get stuck in your teeth. Besides, if you kill me, the ring will only find a new owner. And the next Helsing might not be so keen to talk things out. It could be all flaming swords and char-grilled Nymphs. And I know you don’t want that.”
“Well what do you suggest then?”
Brian shrugged.
“Honestly, I don’t know. We’re too alien to each other. I can’t even understand how humans would taste so nice that you’d go after them even when you can survive perfectly fine on fish.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be able to understand, would you? You’ve never eaten it.”
“What, fish?”
“No. Humans, obviously.” Pandora glanced over at Scylla. “He’s really as bizarre as the Undervine makes out, isn’t he?”
“I like him,” Scylla admitted, not quite defending him. “He’s… quirky.”
“I’m standing right here,” Brian told the pair. “And what the hell is the Undervine? Is this the weird monster version of Facebook that I keep hearing about? Where all the latest ghoulish goings on are gossiped and shared amongst the spirits and beasties of the world?”
“Kind of,” Scylla told him.
“Anyway, back to the point,” Pandora continued. “We eat man-flesh because it tastes just… fantastic. Salty, juicy, sweet. God, even just talking about it makes me want to take a chunk out of you right now.”
“I’m thankful for your self-control,” Brian gulped. “But really, if you’ve only tried fish and humans, surely there’s a world of different meats out there you’re missing out on? I mean, even Newquay over there,” he gestured to the town across the sea, “has loads of restaurants and cafes. There’s meats from all around the Earth you could try. As you suggested earlier, there’s pig. There’s beef. There’s chicken. I mean, have you ever tried a Nando’s?”
“What’s a Nando’s?” Pandora asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
Chapter Fifteen: Sink Or Swim
It was with great pleasure that Brian told the bristle-faced competition organiser to fuck off. Today’s event might have been cancelled due to the sharks, the man had snorted at him, but it would resume again in the morning and he wouldn’t be allowed to take part, not after revealing his board was powered by jet engines, of all things. Good, Brian had replied. Surfing was a ridiculous sport and he wanted nothing to do with it. And with the man standing open-mouthed in shock at his heretical words, he’d left the beach, dragging his board behind him and resolving that, if he could help it, he would never set foot in the ocean again.
“You’re a strange one,” Scylla told him as they made their way to the car.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“No, I mean it. Most Helsings would have gone in guns blazing. You didn’t. You talked to my sisters like they’re people, not monsters.”
Brian opened Bertha’s boot and began the laborious process of stuffing the board into the cavity and lashing it down. He didn’t want to ever have to use it again, but he couldn’t exactly leave it lying around, not with its payload of armed missiles. It had already been nicked once already and he’d only been in Newquay five minutes, even if it already felt like a lifetime.
“Well, I think it’s possible to be both,” he mused. “I mean, no offence, but you’re a lethal, shape-shifting water spirit. And at the same time, we had a laugh last night, didn’t we?”
“Exactly. The Masters would have me believe that all supernatural creatures are enemies of mankind. And, yeah, with vampires I kind of get it; they just exist to feed on and manipulate us mortals for their own ends. But your sisters don’t seem all bad. They just need to widen their culinary horizons a little bit. Shift their tastes to something less lethal. It’s like moving from cigarettes, which are harmful, to vapes, which are just gay.”
She nodded, following his crudely worded point.
“Is this Nando’s place really so nice that they’ll forget about eating people?”
“Well, I eat there semi-regularly, and I’m yet to eat a person, so yeah, I hope so.”
At Brian’s behest, Scylla threw her backpack into the boot, then climbed into the passenger seat of the Camaro, as Brian posted his lanky frame into the driver’s side, his wetsuit squeaking in protest on the leather. Off to the B&B now, then after that, Nando’s, where the Nymphs had promised to meet them for lunch. Brian started the engine, the V8 burbling from its quartet of exhausts, causing the chatting surfers, officials and various passers-by to glance over in curiosity, jealousy or perhaps just thinking that he was a bellend. Scylla opened her eyes wide in thrill at the bassy noise as Brian snicked the car into gear and pulled away from the car park.
“This thing is incredible,” she murmured. “I can feel the power. And the sound; it’s like Poseidon clearing his throat! Can I have a go some time?”
“Have you ever driven a car?” he asked in return.
“Nope. Never been in one before today, to tell the truth.”
“Then much as I like you, no. This thing has so much power it’s caught me out once or twice. And I used to sell cars for a living.”
“Ah, so that much was true then?” Suddenly she paused, sniffing. “Do I smell unicorn piss?”
Brian rolled his eyes as he drove.
“Most likely.”
“And… is that Knacker tears? How do you even get a Knacker to cry? Those things are terrifying.”
“God knows. I don’t even know what a Knacker is, nor do I want to, to be honest.”
“Don’t blame you. Nasty, gangly buggers they are. They look a bit like you. No offence.”
“I’ve been called worse than a Knacker. Anyway, back to the B&B, we’ll get out of these wetsuits, then we’ll take a stroll. You think your sisters will be on best behaviour in town? Not gonna make our way there and find a bloodbath are we?”
She grimaced.
“I hope not. We might be creatures of instinct, but usually when we make a promise, we keep to our word.”
“Good. That makes you better than most humans, in my book.”
Newquay was a small town, so it only took them a few minutes to reach the B&B. As they pulled onto the driveway, Stu was there, smoking one of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of cigarettes. He gifted Brian a nod of greeting as he pulled up, then his eyes widened as Scylla climbed out of the car, her figure-hugging wetsuit tight in all the right places and emphasising legs as long as the Nile. Stu wafted his cigarette smoke away, before striding forwards.
“Well, Brian, it didn’t take you long to make friends. Who’s your lovely new companion?”
“Scylla, Stu. Stu, Scylla,” Brian introduced the pair.
“What an interesting name. Never met anyone called Scylla before.”
He stuck his hand out in greeting.
“And I’ve never met anyone called Stu before,” Scylla replied with a beaming smile, before taking his hand and shaking it.
Stu’s knuckles popped beneath her iron-grip and his eyes bulged. When they’d finished shaking hands, he waved his hand to shake away the pins and needles.
“Christ, girl; you’re as strong as your lanky friend here!”
“You’ve no idea,” Brian chuckled, before turning to Scylla and inclining his head to the door. “Shall we?”
The pair made their way up to the bedroom, Brian closing the door behind him and turning to find Scylla having already thrown her backpack on the bed and starting to strip out of her wetsuit. Beneath it, she was stark bollock naked.
“Whoah, erm.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at him.
“What?”
“You Nymphs really don’t have any qualms about showing off your skin, do you?”
“Why would we?” she shrugged. “We’re naturally naked. Most creatures are. It’s only you silly humans who clothe yourselves in the skins of other animals.”
“Well, yes. But unlike you we’d catch a chill if we didn’t. We’re not covered in hair or scales or anything else to keep us warm.”
She dropped her wetsuit to the ground and turned to face him, a curious light in her eyes, as Brian averted his eyes from her now entirely bare form.
“Do you see any hair or scales on me?” she asked.
“Nope. And, look, not being funny but if you’re going to just stand there all naked in my bedroom, can you do it not looking so human? It’s... distracting me from the task at hand.”
An instant’s look of concentration, then suddenly Scylla was standing there in her natural form.
“Better?”
He risked a glance at her, regarding her shape so similar, but now her skin a pale, olive green, her eyes larger and darker, her hair now the colour of kelp yet still smooth, silky and training down to just, but not quite, cover her bosom. He gulped.
“Strangely enough, not really, no.”
“Hmm.”
With that monosyllabic statement, of which Brian didn’t know what to make, Scylla shrugged, allowing her human disguise to come to the fore once again, before rifling through her backpack and selecting some clothes, starting to pull them on, much to Brian’s relief. A sudden, loud cat-call whistle, that Scylla couldn’t hear, even with her supernatural senses. Brian glanced to the mirror, to see XII pointing to the Nymph and giving two big thumbs up, a wide shit-eating grin on his wizened face.
“Oh, go away.”
“Hmm?”
“Not you.”
“Who you talking to then?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You’re weird.”
“And you’re unreasonably attractive given the urgency of the situation. Now get those clothes on.” With that, he started to disrobe himself, removing his own wetsuit. Unlike Scylla, Brian had at least a modicum of modesty, angling himself away from her prying eyes as he struggled from the suit and started to clothe himself; it was cold, especially so after his prolonged dip in the sea, and the girl seemed to like him, therefore he was keen not to dispel any illusion of manliness he might have accidentally managed to cultivate.
Finally, the pair of them were clothed, Brian in an Iron Maiden hoody, Scylla in a tight white t-shirt and skinny jeans, and whatever strange, sexual tension had been arcing between the pair seemed, not to die, though to at least diminish for now. Which was good, because any minute now the rest of her sisters would be descending upon Newquay town centre, like the world’s most lethal hen party.
And Brian knew that if he wasn’t there to guide events, it probably wouldn’t just be chicken on the menu.
The two made their way back down the stairs, out of the door and into the fresh mid-day air. The wind was biting, that cold Atlantic breeze that was less caress and more the slap of a spurned lover. Scylla practically dragged him along the pavement by the hand, moving quickly, though whether that was from excitement or simply worry at what havoc her sisters might be already wreaking upon the seaside town, Brian didn’t know. Should he have retrieved his sword from the car? Possibly, but too late for that now, besides, he hoped that he wouldn’t be needing it.
As they walked along the pavement towards the town centre, Brian noticed the stares of both men and women, gawping their way. Was it the fact they looked like s
uch an odd couple, he wondered? Him all tall, gangly and scruffy, her looking picture-perfect, even her hastily thrown on jeans and t-shirt looking stylish on her swim-suit model figure? No, he thought, it was more than that; when people gazed, they were gazing at her, not him. There was a strange sense of longing in their eyes, almost as if they’d been caught in a daydream. He recognised that look from the pub only the other night, when Boaterhead were playing.
“Do all supernatural creatures possess glamour?” he asked her as they walked.
“I can’t speak for all of us,” she replied. “But us Nymphs do. Vampires do too, obviously. There’s a few others as well; sirens, dryads, fairies. Even the scarier and less pretty-looking creatures do, after a fashion, though their effect is more to hypnotise their prey into not moving rather than to seduce them.”
“How does it work?”
The girl shrugged.
“I dunno. You’re asking me about my physiology as though I’m some kind of crypto-biologist. I don’t know any more about how my body works than you do yours. Could be pheromones. Could be magic. All I know is that it works and that my sisters have used it for centuries to lure sailors for their tea.”
“Is it automatic? Or do you have to put effort into it?”
“Both,” she explained. “Affects everyone around me, but at the same time if I concentrate I can force people into doing my bidding, which was why it was so easy to persuade the barman last night to give me the vodka, where you failed. One of the things that puzzles me about you, how it doesn’t seem to have any effect on you. Why is that, do you think? Is it the ring of the Helsings?”
“Not sure,” he admitted. “Even when I first met Cassandra, I didn’t seem to be affected by her glamour. If anything, I was all the more scared of her for how sexual she seemed.”
“How bizarre,” she commented. “I mean, her glamour is extremely potent. Even I wanted to rip her clothes off last night, till I figured out who she was, and I’m neither a man nor human. I think you might be broken, Brian.”
“And for that I am very grateful,” he replied, before freezing in place and staring straight ahead. “Shit.”