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Trojans Trash Bags

June 24, 2014

Stupid villagers, you’d think they’d know better. Prerrabard thought contemptuously. Really! What possible protection could, what, were those? Yes, they were! Trash bags of all things, provide against a being capable of hearing their every heartbeat. The vampire licked his lips hungrily, avoiding the sharply protruding fangs. He raised a single black brow superciliously. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He purred with silken menace.

“Get away from here!”

“Leave us alone!”

“Yeah! We don’t want you around!” Came the various shouts from the crowd.

“Why would I do something like that?” Prerrabard snidely inquired. “The surroundings are so pleasant and the company so… welcoming.” He said sarcastically.

“Father Talbot, do your duty!” The mayor ordered.

The priest stepped forward from his flock. He wore a black cassock trimmed with white. He brandished a large golden crucifix mounted on a pole threateningly in Prerrabard’s face. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost I command you to begone Unholy Creature!” The priest thundered. The two altar boys flanking him splashed the vampire with vials of Holy Water. The priest slammed the spiked butt of the pole into the stony ground.

“Begone!” The crowd roared after him.

The crowd watched in disbelief as Prerrabard casually wiped the water from his face.

“I thought he was supposed to go up in flames.” One man whispered to his neighbor.

“He’s not even smoking.” The other man replied glumly.

“Father, Father.” Prerrabard tsked. “That won’t do you any good, I was an atheist in life. I only became a believer after death and I do not believe in your god.” He laughed wildly. “Those puny symbols of yours have no power over me. In fact, I think that I’ve been insulted.” His face twisting he savagely growled. “And for that you will all pay!” He snarled and lunged forward.

“Now!” The mayor shouted. The mob ripped the trash bags from their bodies revealing the sharp wooden stakes that had been strapped there in concealment. They rushed forward together.

Trojan trash bags! Prerrabard thought.

“Stab the heart!” Father Talbot shouted.

Stakes pricked his skin from every direction as Prerrabard was surrounded by the villagers. He yelled in pain as they struck his flesh causing it to sizzle and burn. “Garlic! You coated them with garlic!” Fire coated his body. “No!” He moaned in disbelief as he sank to the ground, scorched by flames.

“Yes demon! We know how to deal with your kind!” The priest plunged the spike of the crucifix deep within the vampire’s heart. “Let thy Master claim thy soul!” Father Talbot shouted triumphantly.

Prerrabard writhed in agony, his sight fading. He felt himself being pulled down, down towards something dark and hungry. Within moments only a patch of smoldering ashes revealed any trace of his existence.

“Oh Lord, we thank you for Your protection in this our hour of need. Amen.” The priest prayed crossing himself solemnly.

“Amen” The assembled villagers replied. Victorious they returned to their homes.


In response to Finish That Thought #51, mandatory first sentence, 500 word limit, Special Challenge: Trash bags.

Grand Champion and Special Challenge Champion!

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