“Goddamn it.” Jane Squire seemed to shake herself from her frightened trace and grabbed a fallen tree branch from the ground. Refusing to be intimidated, she began battling alongside Slade, beating the Wood Elves with the wooden club. “Goddamn it.” She caved in one of their skulls and cringed at the gush of green blood. Still, she kept fighting. It was impressive courage for a human. “Goddamn it, what are these things?”
“They are Wood Elves. They no doubt work for the Werewolf usurper of this land.”
“Elves? Like fucking Santa Claus?!”
Slade had no idea what that meant and he was too busy slashing through the torrent of vile monsters to ask. The first Wood Elf must have been the leader of the group. As the others kept Slade busy, it skittered closer, looking for an opening. It found one with Jane Squire. The creature lashed out at her as she swung her branch.
The Wood Elf latched onto her arm and Jane Squire gave a cry of alarm. She tried to push it away, but the Wood Elf was unrelenting. It drove her to the ground. Poisonous teeth bared in a snarl, it prepared to rip into her flesh.
“Slade!” Jane Squire screamed.
Slade felt his Dark Instincts come over him as she cried out his name, his own fangs lengthening and his fingernails sharpening into daggers. Seeing Jane Squire in danger let lose the inner animal that Vampires usually suppressed. For once, he didn’t try to stop the bloodlust. He grabbed for the Wood Elf, a roar leaving his throat. He pulled it away from Jane Squire, intent on killing it for touching her. His claws shredded the creature’s lanky body, tearing open its neck.
“I should’ve been a contender for… something.” It gasped and finally stilled.
Jane Squire scrambled backwards from the fountain of gore, her eyes huge in her face.
“You are safe now.” Slade dropped the creature’s body to the ground, breathing hard. “Fear not. I shall protect you from the monsters of this world.”
Jane Squire stared at the carnage, wheezing and dazed. “Was it misquoting Brando?” She got out weakly.
“I do not know who that it.” Therefore, the man couldn’t have been very important. Slade stood still for a moment, taking stock of the battlefield. With their leader dead, the other Wood Elves quickly scattered back into the trees. He could feel his teeth and claws returning to normal and the adrenaline fading as the danger passed.
In all, that had been the most interesting fight Slade had engaged in since he and Damien used to try and slaughter each other. Far more satisfying than hunting Vespas. And Jane Squire had battled beside him. His new servant was a worthy partner on his quest and far more hardy than must humans. He couldn’t imagine Melessa facing down Wood Elves, in such a way. His petite ex-wife would have fainted at the sight of so much green blood. Jane Squire had bravely killed three of the fiends. She was a study lass.
He glanced down at her, smiling widely. “The enemy has retreated! Our campaign is off to a splendid start.” He saw that they were standing on a wide path, so he even had a trail they could follow out of the forest. Clearly, this was all part of destiny’s great plan.
Jane was still on the ground, looking shell-shocked. “You’re really a Vampire.” She blurted out.
Slade’s eyebrows drew together. “Yes.” He agreed. “I have repeatedly told you as much.”
“But, you’re really a fucking Vampire!”
Had the woman bumped her head? She seemed very confused. Perhaps a recap was in order.
“I am Slade, King of the Vampires.” He reminded her in a slow voice. “You are my trusted servant, Jane Squire. We are in the enchanted realm of Infinia, where I shall defeat the Werewolf overlord and claim the kingdom as my own.”
“Oh.” She whispered and swallowed hard.
Slade frowned at her faint tone. “Are you alright?” He demanded, crouching down beside her. “You look unwell.”
He rested a hand against the top of her head, reluctantly noticing the feel of the toffee-colored strands touching his palm. The Vampire Isle had the most luxurious silks imaginable, but even they couldn’t compare the softness of Jane Squire’s hair. Like most supernatural beings, Slade had always been fascinated by humans’ curls and Jane Squire’s seemed purposefully designed to tempt him.
His mind was instantly filled with captivating images of the shiny tresses sliding against his body. Sliding down his body. The beautiful spirals dancing across his skin as her lips sealed around him. His fingers tangling in the tight ringlets as he thrust into her suckling mouth…
Slade swallowed hard, trying to focus. The fantasy was not like him. She was a small and delicate creature under his protection. He should not be imagining all the brazen things he wanted to do to her small and delicate body. Vampires were gentleman.
He cleared his throat. “Have you need of something, Jane Squire?” He prompted when she just sat there in a stupor.
She nodded vaguely, her gaze still locked on the decapitated Elf. “Yeah, I seriously need a drink.”
Chapter Three
INT.- DRUNKEN DRAGON TAVERN- NIGHT
It’s been a hard day of doing whatever it is blacksmiths do all day. ROLAND is looking forward to having a drink and maybe picking up the bartender. (Note: It’s important that we show ROLAND sleeping with other women, besides just the heroine. This proves to the audience that he’s very manly and awesome. She, of course, can’t sleep with anybody but him or she’d be a slut. That’s just how movies work.) Anyhow, as ROLAND works his blacksmithy charms on the locals, little does he know that destiny is about to come knocking…
There is a knock at the door. Everyone turns as a stranger stumbles into the tavern. He’s a DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY, with a bunch of arrows in him. Looking around the bar, his eyes fall on ROLAND.
DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY
Roland, you are the last of a mysterious, beautiful, but tragically extinct royal clan.
You were hidden among peasants for your own safety, but you are far better than them.
You are a hero.
ROLAND
I knew it!
DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY
I have come to give you the enchanted Silver Sword. Use it to defeat Fang and save the kingdom.
Also marry Princess Allandrina.
ROLAND
(Taking the Silver Sword, which is silver and about the size of a letter opener)
It’s kind of small isn’t it?
DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY
We had to think about its marketing potential in toy store aisles.
ROLAND
Whatever. Look, this is cool and all, but I got a band to think about, man.
Once we figure out the instruments, we’re really going to go places.
I can’t be tied down to some princess chick.
DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY
You know that Allandrina was the centerfold in last month’s Waxed and Wet Wenches, right?
But, she’s definitely not a slut. That needs to be explicitly stated, even through my agonizing pain.
The nude photo shoot was part of a royal sorority initiation. Allandrina is very free-spirited.
…But, not a slut.
ROLAND
(Recalling that picture in the men’s magazine)
That hottie with the killer rack? Oh fuck…I totally have to save her!
DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY
I knew you would do the right thing, Roland. You are destined to help reshape Infinia’s future.
It is now unclear what role you will play, but…
ROLAND
(Cutting him off)
Unclear? How is my role unclear? You just said I’m the damn hero!
DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY
(With Yoda-y wisdom)
It seems there is another…
ROLAND
Hang on? Another? Which another? Where’d he come from?
What the hell are you talking about?
The DYING OLD KNIGHT GUY gurgles and dies. It’s way sad, but also dramatic. Like with violin music in the background and
stuff. (Note: He should totally be played by ANTHONY HOPKINS or that dude who’s ALFRED in the Batman movies.)
Redrafted Film Script- “From Here to Infinia”
Jane sat on a barstool and glared at the Slade. She’d been doing that for half-an-hour.
The good news was Slade was damn easy to look at. At six foot eight, with shiny golden locks brushing his wide shoulders and a face straight out of a fairytale, the guy was undoubtedly the handsomest nut job in Chicago. She’d been surreptitiously gawking at him ever since he’d shown up in aisle five of the grocery store.
Slade was so damn… shiny.
Yeah, he dressed like a pirate, with tight black pants and an open-neck white shirt. Yeah, he probably spent all his waking hours admiring himself in the mirror or working out at the gym. Yeah, he expected roses to be thrown at his feet, just for walking into a room. But, none of that distracted from the pretty, pretty view.
Slade glowed with vitality and flawless masculinity. He could land the lead in any summer blockbuster just by smiling at the casting director. He was perfect.
Then, he started talking.
The bad news was Mr. Perfect registered off-the-scales crazy. “I’m the Vampire King of an enchanted island” crazy. And the worst news was he didn’t seem to be morphing into a cute surfer, or an astronaut rabbit, or a bumblebee who talked backwards. Ergo, she wasn’t going to wake-up and forget this even happened over her second cup of coffee… Because this wasn’t a dream.
So, maybe Slade wasn’t so crazy.
Except, he had to be crazy, because if he wasn’t crazy then Jane was crazy and Jane didn’t want to be crazy. She had enough problems. Except, if she was sane, then Jane had been magically transported to a creepy forest filled with killer Elves. That was an even bigger problem. Was it better to be crazy yourself or to be stuck in a galaxy far, far away with a crazy person? Assuming Slade was crazy. Maybe he wasn’t. It was kind of hard to deny that something a teeny bit weird was going on.
So, maybe neither of them was crazy.
Except that would mean that this was really happening and that was the worst possibility of all. If neither she nor Slade was a raving lunatic, then she was stranded in some alternate dimension with an egomaniacal Vampire and monsters who were trying to kill her. How the hell was she supposed to deal with that possibility?
Jane wasn’t even sure what to hope for. Her mind was racing, trying to think of some reasonable explanation for all of this. So far, it was just a jumble of panic and confusion and fury.
And Slade’s jabbering wasn’t helping to clear things up.
He stood in the middle of the woodsy, folksy, old time-y pub, weaving that dumb story of his destined crown, and the grimy looking locals were actually buying it. Creatures of various unknown species stared at Slade with enraptured expressions, eagerly nodding at each ridiculous detail. Wasn’t it lucky for his majesty that everyone here spoke English and had the IQ of a doormat?
“I’ll have another round of the strongest one.” Jane told the blonde bartender, finishing off a glass unidentified liquor. “Make it a double. In fact, just leave the bottle.”
Jane’s short term coping strategy was to get as hammered as possible. Hopefully, they took debit cards here in “Infinia,” because she fully planned to rack up a tab in the triple digits. Unlike the size two actresses who got cast in all the best parts, Jane was big enough to hold her alcohol, so getting blackout drunk might take a while. It would totally be worth it though, because she didn’t want to remember anything about today.
Especially not that freaking Vampire.
She’d spent hours walking through the forest, listening to Slade talk about some stupid movie script he’d used to travel here, and how “magicks” existed, and how this wasn’t Earth anymore. …And damn if she wasn’t almost plastered enough to believe it.
Try as she might, Jane couldn’t come up with another explanation for what she’d seen. She’d always been a pragmatic girl and there didn’t seem much point in denying reality. A degree in preforming arts might have rendered her virtually unemployable, but it did give her a high tolerance for the bizarre. She knew an Elf when it tried to bite her on the arm. Jane kept trying out different scenarios, but they all led back to the indisputable fact that she was sane and this was actually happening.
If that didn’t call for getting wasted, then nothing did.
“Wonderful news!” The golden-haired cause of all her problems came bounding over, looking like a model from a cologne ad. All he needed was a horse, a beach to ride it on, and a French-accented voiceover promising that seductive passion awaited all those who bought his perfume.
Jane pretended he wasn’t there.
Slade didn’t notice the snub. He leaned in closer, his body language shouting that he considered them united in this madness. Hell, if she knew why. “These men know of the rebel forces who seek to overthrown the evil Werewolf Fang.” He told her happily.
“Fang?” Jane repeated dubiously. Ignoring Slade was impossible when he said shit like that. She poured herself another drink. “Jesus, there’s just not enough booze in the world to deal with this.”
“Fang is a nefarious villain. I’ve faced him before and I’ve seen his cruelty firsthand.”
“Uh-huh.”
The bartender smiled enticingly at Slade, posed so her ample bosom was shown off to best advantage. “Can I get you something, my lord?” She cooed. “I know that supernatural patrons don’t imbibe alcohol, but we have a nice selection of holy water.”
“No, I’m fine.” Slade didn’t even glance her way. As usual, his Caribbean blue eyes watched Jane as if she was the only person in the room. It was like being under a brilliant, cerulean spotlight.
Jane refused to be impressed, no matter how unique it felt to be the center of someone’s attention. Slade probably didn’t even realize he was so focused on her. The man’s personal charisma was off the charts, but he was also a complete and utter idiot. No wonder he wanted to get into politics.
“I’m Tegan.” The bartended told Slade. “Call if you need anything.” She bounced away, giving him one last come-hither wink.
Slade barely seemed aware she’d been there, at all. “This is our only chance, Jane Squire.” He grinned at her, his teeth far too white and even. No fangs were evident, but they’d sure been there when he’d killed the Elf who’d attacked her. “We shall meet with these rebels, secure their help, and together we will claim this kingdom as my own.” He banged a triumphant fist down on the countertop, launching Jane’s drink in the air with his irritating Vampire strength. “It’s all as you said it would be.”
She caught hold of her glass. “As I said it would be?” Jane might have been above the legal limit, but she didn’t recall saying anything that stupid.
“Yes. You told me I should find a new land to rule and I have. I just need to fight for it.”
“And what about me?” Jane demanded.
“You shall fight for my kingdom, too.” He slung a companionable arm around her shoulder. The son-of-a-bitch smelled like magic. “You’ll be by my side. And when we win this land, I will grant you all that you desire.”
“I desire to go home.” She shoved him away. “You brought me here. You can send me back. Do it. Now.”
Seeing as how he was an actual, genuine, for real, holy-God-how-is-that-possibly-possible? Vampire, she should probably be wary of Slade. She’d seen the guy behead about a dozen scrawny little monsters back in the forest and rip one apart with his bare hands. Upsetting him was a lousy idea.
Jane had never been very good at watching what she said, though. Thoughts just popped out before she even finished thinking them. Especially around conceited jerkoffs who’d basically kidnapped her. No way could she even pretend to be civil to the guy. Every word out of his mouth made her want to punch him. Slade was like the worst of all possible ex-boyfriends. Sickeningly handsome, emotionally oblivious, and apparently immortal. Everything that had gone wrong today was hi
s fault and she had every right to blame him for it.
Besides, retractable fangs or not, Slade wouldn’t hurt her. Growing up on the Southside, Jane had been around plenty of tough guys. She knew how to spot the dangerous ones and Slade wasn’t dangerous. Not to her. It was impossible to fear a man who tried to donate to homeless kittens and stood in front of you when Elves attacked.
…Even if he was armed with a sword and a fully loaded golf bag.
Slade had the audacity to look hurt by her words. “Send you back to what? That dreary world, where men in aprons shout at you? I’ve freed you from that life, Jane Squire. Now, you serve a higher purpose.” He splayed a hand over his annoyingly muscular chest. “You serve me. Together we shall write an epic tale for the ages.”
Jane snorted at that idea. She wasn’t destined to be the star of any epic tales. She was too plain looking for the role. Too large. She wasn’t so much overweight as she was “sturdy.” At least, that’s what her Aunt Maybelline had called it. Jane didn’t play the delicate or beautiful heroine. She was the character who made the wisecracks and encouraged the film’s stars to follow their dreams. Jane got cast as the servant, who helped the spunky heiress flee her stifling life of tiaras and dukes. The anonymous computer geek, who cracked the code for the adventurous spies. The faceless extra, who held the knight in shining armor’s helmet, while he kissed Sleeping Beauty awake.
And it pissed her off.
“I’m not going to be your sidekick, Slade. Aside from the fact sidekicks usually die in these kind of movies, I don’t even like you.”
Vampire Charming Page 4