The call came quite unexpectedly. I was working late and deadlines were looming. Little did I know that fate was about to give me a jingle. The voice on the other end of the telephone line intrigued me with an impossible claim. I hurriedly set up a meeting and rushed out to get my story: The story of Franklin W. Fuggitt, Vampire Hunter…
So, you’re a Vampire Hunter, is that anything like a Vampire Slayer?
Of course not. Do I look like Sarah Michelle Geller? Hunters aren’t little girls with big pointed sticks and an advanced degree in bubble gum physics. Hunters are professionals.
I see… Then what, in your professional opinion is the difference between a Vampire Hunter and a Vampire Slayer?
Vampire Hunters have a very long and illustrious history, dating back to the most famous Hunter of all time, Abraham Van Helsing…
Of Dracula fame?
Exactly. Vampire Slayers, on the other hand, are a fabrication of Hollywood. They only thing they actually slay is brain cells. You won’t find websites dedicated to the fandom of Vampire Hunters, I’ll tell you that. We’re far too dignified to participate in anything so… crass.
Uh huh. And what, exactly, does a hunter do?
Well, he hunts, mostly.
Of course Vampires! What else would a Vampire Hunter hunt? Raccoons?
And what does a Hunter do, once he has actually found a Vampire?
Well, that really all depends on the situation, I suppose. If it’s a particularly friendly Vampire, he might chat it up a bit, you know, get to know it, perhaps trade a few amusing anecdotes…
So… you hunt Vampires just so you can talk to them? Why?
To learn, of course. A good Hunter gets to know his prey. It’s all very psychological.
Mm hm. Okay, so once you’ve gotten to know the Vampire, what then?
Well, assuming, once again, that this is a friendly Vampire, I might invite it out to a movie or a nice stroll in the park. Dinner, of course, would be out of the question, as Vampires have no need for sustenance as we mortals know it. Then, after we’ve gotten to know one another a bit, I might suggest that it show me where it spends its daylight hours…
Ah, get it to show you to the place where its coffin is hidden, very cunning…
Cunning, yes, well… one has to be cunning to be a good Vampire Hunter. It wouldn’t do to be a Hunter without cunning, now would it?
No, I suppose not. So, what happens once you’ve gotten your Vampire to show you where its coffin is hidden? Do you wait for daylight to make your strike, while the creature is at its weakest?
Heaven’s no! That would be unsportsmanlike, not to mention barbaric! No, no, no… once I’ve been shown to the Vampire’s lair, I make myself a bit more comfortable. I might put on some nice music, light a few candles–that is assuming such things are readily available. If not, I might sing for the Vampire.
Yes, I have a lovely singing voice…
You sing to Vampires?
Not always… just when there is no other music available.
And what on earth would singing to a Vampire do for you?
Well, for one thing, it would make the Vampire like me. Why else would one sing to a Vampire?
That is exactly what I am trying to find out! It doesn’t make any sense, does it, Mr. Fuggitt? You hunt a Vampire down, take it to a movie, trick it into showing you its secret lair, then, instead of slaying the creature, you sing to it?
There you go again with the slaying. Who said anything about slaying? I told you, Slayers are a fabrication of Hollywood! I am a Vampire Hunter!
Well, if you’re not going to slay the creature, what on earth are you going to do to it?
It’s not what I will do to it, so much as it is what I’m hoping it will do to me.
And what, pray tell, is that…
Why, seduce me of course! Why else would I go to such elaborate lengths to get a Vampire’s attention?
Let me get this straight, you call yourself a Vampire Hunter…
I AM a Vampire Hunter.
Uh huh, and once you’ve hunted down your Vampire, you woo it in the hopes that it will make… love… to you?
Oh, love has nothing to do with it! It’s raw animal sex pure and simple! You’ve experienced nothing until you’ve been taken by a Vampire in the throes of a raging blood lust. The fire in their eyes, the cold, crushing weight of their bodies and the feeling of their teeth sinking deep into your neck as they pound out their immortal passions again and again and again… Of course it’s only a one-time affair, as you’d most likely be dead when it’s over. Either that or one of the children of the night.
I see… Mr. Fuggitt, I’m going to go out on a limb here a bit, if I may. You’ve never really encountered a Vampire, have you?
Well, not exactly. Not yet, anyway. I have done a lot of hunting, though. In fact, you could say I’ve spent my entire life hunting.
And that, in your opinion, is what makes you a Vampire Hunter?
So, then once you actually find a Vampire, you’re no longer the hunter, but the prey?
If I’m lucky, yes. It’s the eternal cycle of death and rebirth. Noted Vampirologist, Ms. Anne Rice, describes it best, I think, in her magnum opus The Vampire Lestat.
You’ve based the entire tenant of your belief on a lurid paperback novel? Have you never heard of fiction?
I don’t think I like your tone. There have been several experts in the field who have written extensively on the subject of vampirism. Ms. Rice is simply the latest in a long line of brilliant thinkers who have brought vampirism into the mainstream. But, that doesn’t mean vampires don’t exist!
This is the most ridiculous load of crap I have ever heard.
No it’s not. You’re just jealous.
Jealous? Of what? A man who has spent his entire life reading gothic novels and hunting for something that doesn’t actually exist, just so he can be shagged to death by it?
You see, you admit it. You’re jealous. It doesn’t surprise me, really. Most people are. Being a Hunter is a very lonely life.
I’ll bet… Have you ever thought of writing a book of your own? You could call it A Vampire Hunter’s Guide To Death By Sodomy…
You know… that’s not a half bad idea! Maybe then people will begin to take me seriously. Who knows, Ms. Rice might actually take my calls for a change! I’ll do it!
Well, the chances of that happening are far more likely than your being schtupped to death by a vampire, I can assure you…
Oh, ye of little faith.
This story originally appeared in the October 1997 issue of Playtime Magazine. All rights reserved.