My Favorite Fangs: The Story of the Von Trapp Family Vampires (3 page)

“How do you solve a problem like dead lady-parts?” Diamond asked.

Mother Zombie pouted, “That’s a problem that will never be solved. For Zombies, arousal is impossible, sort of like, well, like holding a moonbeam in your hand.” She gave Diamond, Jazzmine, and Bubbles a disdainful glare. “The three of you, return to your chambers.”

“Mother Zombie,” Bubbles asked, “why would you demand to see us, then send us on our way without really accomplishing much of anything, plot-wise?”

“Because I thought you could lend this scene some tight three-part vocal harmonies…”

“What are tight three-part vocal harmonies?” Diamond asked.

“… but I was obviously mistaken. So be gone. Brandi and Cinnamon, go find that flying flibbertijibbet o’ the wisp and bring her to me.”

Sixty-six-some-odd hours later, Brandi and Cinnamon shuffled dejectedly into Mother Zombie’s office. “Mother Zombie?” Cinnamon asked nervously.

“Yes, Cinnamon?”

“Maria is gone.”

Brandi said, “Perhaps we should have put a cowbell in between her legs.” She paused, then added, “But the whore would probably enjoy that.”

Mother Zombie asked, “Have you looked by the lake? You know how much she adores the Swamp Monsters.”

“We searched everywhere,” Cinnamon said, “even in some, um, er,
unusual
places.”

Mother Zombie perked up. “Unusual? Details, child.”

Cinnamon said, “We looked at Chez Cristin, and Coco NR1, and Donau Dreams, and Erotikbörse, and the Funpalast, and Helga’s Kabinsex, and the Kontakof, and Prinse Eugen Stasse, and Zucker Puppen, and…”

“Stop, Cinnamon,” Mother Zombie said. “I know not of any of these establishments. Are they Vampire meeting places?”

“Possibly.”

“What do you mean, possibly?”

“Well, Vampires
could
meet there.”

Brandi said, “But flibbertijibbets
definitely
meet there.”

Mother Zombie lifted her desk above her head and threw it across the room, where it hit the wall, cracked into several dozen pieces, and fell onto a pile of previously thrown desks. “You mean to tell me that you spent almost four days going in and out of
brothels
?!” she roared.

In unison, Brandi and Cinnamon said, “Yes, Mother Zombie.”

“You two do realize that Maria isn’t literally a prostitute. When we call her a whore, we mean that she’s of ill repute, not that she has intercourse in exchange for money.”

“As far as you know,” Cinnamon pointed out.

Nodding, Mother Zombie said, “I’ll grant you that, Cinnamon—as far as we know, Vampire Sister Maria doesn’t fornicate for pay…”

From a ways away, the three Zombies heard a door slam shut, followed in quick succession by a vase breaking, a bell ringing, a cat yowling, a Zombie moaning, a chair crumbling, a tympani boinging, and a Vampire cursing.

With her black cat suit in tatters—in the last revolting days of the thirties, cat suits were the favored uniform of Austrian Vampires—and her alabaster skin glowing in the dark, and crusted blood dotting her face, Maria stood in the doorway of Mother Zombie’s office and grinned. What little light there was in the room was drawn to her fangs, which shimmered like pearls.

“Good eeeeeevening, ladies,” she said, then clapped her hands together once and asked, “So what’d I miss?”

Mother Zombie shook her head sadly. “Maria. Maria. Maria. Say it loud, and there’s music playing. Say it soft, and it’s almost like praying.”

Brandi said, “Wrong musical, whore.”

Without breaking eye contact with Brandi, Mother Zombie reached behind her, picked up the nearest piece of office equipment—which happened to be a dot matrix printer—lifted it above her head, and said, “Brandi, Cinnamon, I’m sick of the sight of you. Be gone.”

Ducking to avoid being clocked by Mother Zombie’s printer, Brandi and Cinnamon said, “Yes, Mother,” then left. On their way out of the office, Brandi and Cinnamon both accidentally-on-purpose elbowed Maria on either side of her head. Unfazed, Maria than purposely-on-purpose kicked them across the hallway, sending the Zombie Sisters into the wall at a speed of 42.618 kilometers per hour.

After Cinnamon stood up and readjusted her head, she told Maria, “You repulse me, darling.”

Maria curtsied. “That’s the kindest thing you have ever said to me, dear Cinnamon.” She nodded at Brandi. “Do I repulse you, sweetie?”

Brandi projectile vomited up seven of the nine brains she’d eaten that afternoon right onto the front of Maria’s cat suit. The regurgitate was brown, and loaded with living, wiggling worms.

Maria took a deep inhale, absorbed the scent, grinned, and said, “Oh, Brandi, I love you most of all!”

From her chamber, Mother Zombie roared, “Enough dilly-dallying, ladies! Brandi, Cinnamon, be gone! Maria, come closer.”

The striking, hurl-covered Vampire approached the desk, dropped to her knees, and licked Mother Zombie’s hand. Mother Zombie gagged, then backhanded Maria, first on the left cheek, and then on the right; it sounded as if she had hit a stone. Maria, who didn’t flinch, said, “Thank you, Mother Zombie. May I have another?”

“No. Two slaps is even too good for the likes of you.” Mother Zombie gestured to the chair in front of where her desk used to be and said, “Sit.”

Maria followed her order, then said, “Oh, Mother Zombie, I’m so sorry for departing from the Abbey without permission, but when my muse muses, I have to follow it. The front entrance was open, and the hills were beckoning, and my fangs needed release, and the scent of fresh kill was so overpowering and seductive that before I knew it…” She again reached for Mother Zombie’s hand; Mother Zombie pulled it away, then, for good measure, punched Maria in the chest. Again, it was like she had hit stone, and again, Maria didn’t flinch. “Oh, please, Mother, might I beg for mercy?”

“Fine, Maria. Go ahead and beg. Beg like you have never begged. Beg like you’re a dog. Which you are.”

“Mother Zombie, I beg your mercy.”

“You can’t have it. Even though you have brought me five-score fresh kills over the past month, you shall not be forgiven for your transgressions, and your blatant disregard for Zombie Law.”

“Then why did you allow me to
ask
you for mercy?”

Mother Zombie shrugged. “Who am I to refuse a request?”

“But I just requested your mercy, and you refused
that
request”

“I can refuse a request when I
choose
to refuse a request.”

“But you just said, ‘Who am I to refuse a request?’” Maria pointed out. “Thus, I refuse your refusal.”

“This is my Abbey, and I make the decisions, so I refuse your refusal of my refusal.”

“Then I refuse
your
refusal of
my
refusal of
your
refusal.”

“And I refuse your … wait, what were we talking about again?”

Maria scratched her head. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Nor do I.” She stood up, elbowed Maria in the temple, then said, “Just tell me why you left the Abbey without permission.”

Utterly unaffected by the punch, Maria rose and smiled dreamily. “You see, Mother Zombie, the summer sky was so seductive, and the air smelled of both life and death, and my cortex was so engorged with singing white cells and dancing red cells that I just
had
to be a part of it. Also, the pressure in my head was great, and had I not let my blood flow onto the mountain grass, my brain might well have exploded.”

Mother Zombie mumbled, “I wish.”

Maria cupped her ear. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Continue.”

“Very well. The Untersberg was calling for me … no, yelling for me … no,
screaming
for me! And when the Untersberg talks, people listen.”

Mother Zombie squinched up her face. “The Untersberg? What’s the Untersberg?”

“The Untersberg is a mountain massif of the Berchtesgaten Alps that straddles the borders of Berchtesgaten, Germany, and our very own town of Salzburg. The Berchtesgaten Alps are popular with tourists and Austrian Vampires alike because they’re a mere sixteen kilometers to Salzburg. The first recorded ascent of the Berchtesgaten Alps was in the first half of the twelfth Century by Eberwein, a member of the Augustinian Hydra Monastery at Berchtesgaten. As you may recall, the mountain lent its name to an 1829 opera by Johann Nepomuk, Baron of Poissl.”

Mother Zombie stared at Maria. “Could you have not just said the Alps?” she asked.

“No. Like all female Vampires, I’m quite precise.”

Mother Zombie mumbled, “Like all female Vampires, you’re quite a know-it-all bitch.”

Maria cupped her ear. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Continue.”

“The point is, that’s my land. I was transformed with an eternal bite on it. I was brought up on it. I’ve killed on it. I’ve feasted on it. I’ve bled upon it.” She paused, inched her hand slowly toward her waist, then said, “I’ve fornicated on it.”

Mother Zombie took a ruler from under her cloak—a ruler fashioned from the corpses of ten King Brown snakes—and slapped Maria’s hand just before it moved below her beltline. “Do that on your own time, please.”

Maria gave her lady-parts a rueful flick, then said, “That’s what compelled me to come to the Abbey, Mother Zombie.”

Rolling her eyes, Mother Zombie said, “For the love of all that’s evil in the world, do I have to listen to this story again? How many times must you…”

Maria launched into her tale. “The year was 1331. I was a young woman just getting in touch with her sensuality…”

“For the love of Jesus Christ burning in
Hölle,
yes, I know…”

“… and I’d come down from the mountain and fly to the top of a building and look over into your courtyard. I’d see the Zombie Sisters eating their luscious brains, and I’d hear their mournful moans as they made their way to vespers…”

“You have mentioned this several hundred…”

“… then one afternoon, while skipping gaily atop the Berchtesgaten, I was attacked by a bat. A beautiful, beautiful bat…”

“I recall…”

“… and this bat changed my life! The bite! The blood! The fever! The … the … the
transformation
! The magic! The boys! The men! The release! The
multiple
releases!”

Mother Zombie yawned, then slapped her own face. “Apologies, Maria, I almost nodded off. Are you still talking?”

Maria again dreamily moved her fingers down to her lady-parts, but she caught a glimpse of Mother Zombie’s snake ruler, then abruptly stopped her hand and changed the subject. “Which brings me to another transgression, Reverend Mother. I discharged my teeth today without permission.”

Shrugging, Mother Zombie said, “Honestly, Vampire, I could care less.”

“But there are rules, Mother. Everybody knows that in Zombie Law, there are edicts against unauthorized bloodletting.”

“I’ve told you dozens of times, that only applies to the bloodletting of
postulants
. You can let out your
own
blood as often as you wish.”

Maria ignored Mother Zombie and bulled ahead. “And what’s even worse, I’ve developed a tendency to burst into song.”

With that, Mother Zombie perked up. “Songs? What sort of songs? I like songs. Especially ones with tight three-part vocal harmonies.”

“Songs with nice melodies and interesting chord changes, but corny lyrics.”

“Would you care to sing one right now?”

“I’d love to, but there might be issues with royalties.”

“Royalties as in King von Habsburg of Austria?”

“Er, no. Royalties as in usage-based payments made by a licensor to a licensee for use of an ongoing asset—the asset, in this instance, being a song lyric—sometimes, for instance, an intellectual property that…”

Under her breath, Mother Zombie said, “Know-it-all bitch.”

Maria cupped her ear. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Go on about this singing.”

“There isn’t anything more to go on about. I sing corny songs that have very little to do with what’s going on around me. Also, they do very little to advance the plot.”

“What’s this
plot
business that everybody’s talking about?”

Maria disregarded her, and again changed the subject. “And I’ve been having many a disagreement with Zombie Sister Brandi, who has taken to calling me a whore.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“But I’ve taken to yanking off her arm before our disagreement has even started, because I know I’ll eventually get to that anyhow.”

Mother Zombie turned around and banged her head against the wall. And then she did it again. And again. Then, with her back still turned to the Vampire, she said, “Maria, when you saw us over the Abbey wall and longed to be one of us, did you not realize we were zombies?”

“Of course I realized it. But you’re undead, and I’m undead, and I believed the undead can live together in harmony, regardless of how they were killed then reanimated. I was mistaken, of course—Zombies are scum and Vampires are beautiful, and the two genera can’t cohabitate without the disdain boiling over into outright hatred—but I believe that after six centuries, I’m finally learning how to co-exist with you vile creatures.”

“We find you equally vile, Maria.” She spun around. “And while vileness is an essential part of our lives here at the Abbey, and while we have come to tolerate your presence, enough is enough. It is time for you to be gone.”

“Oh, no, Mother Zombie! I beg you, don’t do that! Don’t cast me away! I belong here in my feces-smelling home. You’re my ghastly family. It’s my entire life, er, my entire undeath.”

“Life is unfair, Maria, and undeath, even more so. Perhaps if you go out into the mortal world for a time, you’ll have a chance to find out if you’re worthy of being in the eternal company of Zombiekind, to see if you have the capacity to
truly
live your life under Zombie Law. There’s a brood near Salzburg in need of a Governess. You’ll be taking care of seven mortal children. How do you feel about kids, Maria?”

“They have stringy necks, but they generally taste sweeter than adults. The combination of innocence and premature death makes for a well-nigh irresistible dessert.”