Stryker’s Last Orgy

April 21, 2011 at 9:55 pm (Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Stryker was a death heavy metal music star.

His label was Aulos Music and Recording.

The past six months Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell the Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording had been baby-sitting (quite literally) the 33-year-old star on his world-wide tour.

Heathcliff was sick of cleaning up the mess (particularly the bodies of the teen-aged girl groupies that Stryker had slain and drunk their blood afterwards).

“One would think you’re a vampire or something,” Heathcliff had sniffed.

“Maybe someday I will be,” Stryker laughed.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was so busy looking after the petulant spoiled brat heavy metal rocker that he had no time to look out for his more talented heavy metal protogee the genuinely authentic Vampiress Morgana (who at least did not kill and drink the blood of her fans since she knew who was paying the money that kept her bread buttered and her bacon coming).

Now Heathcliff heard the dreadful news that the Board of Directors of Aulos was going to assign another of the label executives to manage Morgana while he Heathcliff would be stuck with Stryker.

Oh, Heathcliff thought to himself, was there no way out of this mess?

* * *

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell stood outside the door of the Vampiress Morgana’s hotel room to tell his protogee the bad news and was about to knock when he heard two feminine voices from inside the room.

Heathcliff stopped to listen.

Inside the hotel room, the Vampiress Isis stood in a red evening dress and red spiked stiletto heels.

The Vampiress Morgana stood in a black tank top, black leather mini skirt, black silk fishnet nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.

“I want to know,” said Isis, “are you any relation to the Sorceress Morgana of Avalon?”.

“I’m her niece,” the Vampiress Morgana answered, “Auntie Morgana was beheaded and slain by King Arthur centuries ago.”

“This I know,” said Isis, “for I was close by when it happened. What I want to know is do you have any of your aunt’s magical powers. Can you resurrect a slain vampire from the dead for example?”.

“I have some magical powers,” the Vampiress Morgana replied, “but I do not have the power to Resurrect.”

The Vampiress Isis sighed.

Then she looked at Morgana, “Thank you for your time.”

The Vampiress Isis bowed and then opened the hotel room door where she saw Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell standing there.

“Have we not met before?” Isis asked.

“I believe we spent a delightful evening last Boxing Day over champagne and caviar on the French Riviera discussing the writer Oscar Wilde and the painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti,” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell answered.

“Indeed, we did,” Isis smiled, “we must do that again soon.”

She then walked down the hall and pressed the elevator button.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then entered the Vampiress Morgana’s hotel room where he broke the bad news to her.

Morgana burst into tears.

* * *

Upon exiting the hotel, Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell wrapped his coat tightly around himself because of the wet London evening drizzle now falling.

He looked up and recognized someone.

It was Renfield R. Renfield.

“Excuse me,” Heathcliff tried to get past the shapeshifting hamster/human because he had been nothing but trouble for Mr. Dionysus Campbell in the past.

“Do you recognize this person?” Renfield held up a photo.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put on his gold-wire rimmed glasses and looked at the photo.

“It’s Stryker,” Heathcliff replied, “the most obnoxious of the clients I manage.”

“I thought you might know him,” Renfield grinned an evil grin, “you know a lot of musicians.”

“Being in the music and recording business I naturally would,” Heathcliff harrumphed with an irritated lisp.

“I came across this man’s photo on the cover of an entertainment magazine earlier today,” Renfield explained, “in fact the same magazine where I ripped out this photo which seemed to upset the shopkeeper Mr. Patel for some reason. He demanded that I pay the cost of the full price of the magazine. Finally I was forced to shoot him after he threatened to call the police.”

“Why are you interested in this Stryker?” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell took out a handkerchief and began wiping raindrops off his glasses.

“I recognized the fellow right away,” Renfield seethed, “he was the one who swiped the last tuna fish sandwich off a plate at an upscale party I was at 2 years ago just before I could get to it myself. I swore revenge if I ever came across him again.”

“What do you plan to do to him?” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put his glasses back on and blinked at the shapeshifter.

“Kill him,” Renfield answered.

“This is my lucky day,” Heathcliff thought to himself and then he said aloud to Renfield, “What’s in it for me if I take you to him?”.

“I won’t kill you,” Renfield laughed.

“I feel like dying these days anyways,” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell shrugged, “you’ll have to do better than threats if you want me to help you.”

“All right, I’ll pay you thirty thousand pounds if you take me to him,” Renfield said.

“Show me the money,” Heathcliff held out his palm.

Renfield went to a nearby bank’s ATM cash machine and using his employer the billionaire ancient Egyptian Vampire Set’s debit card positively emptied the bank’s cash machine out of thirty thousand pound notes.

Renfield and Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then took a taxi to the nightclub where Stryker was having his post-concert orgy.

Meanwhile noted American actor Charlie Sheen walked up to the bank’s ATM cash machine and inserted his debit card.

Then he started swearing it, “I can’t believe it. This @#%^&*!*@ machine is out of @#%^!*@ cash.”

* * *

“All right,” Heathcliff spoke to Renfield, “at these orgies, there are a lot of guys and even a few girls who like to dress up as Stryker. Wait 5 minutes and then come in and I’ll direct you to the real one.”

“How will I know the real one?” Renfield asked.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell whispered inside Renfield’s ear.

Renfield grimaced but nodded.

* * *

Stryker was seated at a table surrounded by an adoring group of short skirted and mini dress wearing teen-aged groupies.

Stryker opened a plastic bag of cocaine and passed it around saying, “This is my body which is given for you. Snort this in remembrance of me.”

The girls took the bag and shoved some of the cocaine up their respective noses.

Then Stryker opened the cap off a beer bottle with his teeth and passed the bottle of beer around saying, “This is my blood (my golden blood!) of the newest and most irrevocable covenant which is shed for you and for many for the mother of all orgasms.”

Each girl took a sip of the beer and had a multiple orgasm as she did so.

Renfield entered the nightclub.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell went up to Stryker and kissed him on the lips.

“Dionysus,” Stryker looked at Heathcliff, “dost thou betray the Son of Belial with a kiss?”.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell’s face turned crimson.

“What thou doest, do quickly,” Stryker slit a girl’s throat and drank her blood.

Heathcliff Dionyus Campbell ran to the washroom and hung a roll of toilet paper over the seat and sat down and blew his nose.

And Renfield R. Renfield moved in for the kill.

To be continued.

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