Vincent the Vampire Bat

Vincent the Vampire Bat This is the story of Vincent, a bat. Now, Vincent is no ordinary bat, he is a vampire bat. Now you must remember that vampire bats have a rather unpleasant habit of drinking blood, nice warm sticky blood. They just can t get enough of it. Well, apart from Vincent that is. You see, Vincent had a small problem, he couldn t stand the sight of blood, let alone bring himself to drink it. When ever he saw it, he came over all strange; a bit cold and shivery, a bit clammy and damp and then Thud.he fainted. Out cold. Now, in every other way Vincent was a splendid specimen of a young bat. He was a handsome chap. He had sleek glossy black fur, carefully groomed down, and an impressive pair of shiny wings. He looked like a squadron leader, the toughest, most fearless strong guy, who could do anything. That is anything apart from drink blood. But Vincent was not only handsome, he was smart too, and up until now this had been his little secret. But he realised it wasn t going to be his little secret for much longer, it was going to be one enormous big problem. He had to think fast. You see the problem was, Vincent was about to graduate from Bat School, and all final year students had to compete in the Valiant Vampires Valedictory Cup, known as the Three Vs for short. This had been going for as long as bat history itself. Each bat had to complete a series of tasks to gain their graduation medal. The bat judged as the best over all, won the Three Vs cup. Now, Vincent was a good student, and some would even say outstanding. He was expected to do well in all the events: the traditional awesome, daredevil stunt flying; the cunning moonless night time navigation; and the ingenious insect identification challenge; together with the more modern events of poetry reading and the vigorous vampires disco dancing competition. Vincent was not worried about these, but he was worried about the final passing out ceremony, the Blood ceremony, and if Vincent wasn t careful he would literally be passing out. One sight of the Golden Goblet of blood, let alone a taste, and he knew he would come over all strange; a bit cold and shivery, a bit clammy and damp and then Thud.he would faint. He would be out cold and the laughing stock of his school. What was he going to do? He thought long and hard until his head hurt, but still the only solution he could come up with was to fly away and never come back, maybe he could become a fruit bat? After all he liked fruit. There was nothing for it, he had to get help. The next day was a Saturday. He got up very early, just as the sun was setting, and it was not yet dark. He flew away silently, gliding on the slight breeze, so as not to disturb the rest of his family. Using his strong powerful wings he quickly arrived

at his destination. His friend Violet s house. Now all he had to do was wake her up. Not an easy task, as soon as Violet had tipped herself up hanging comfortably, nothing could wake her. First he tried a low whistle. No luck. Then a high pitched screech. Violet s father stirred but not a peep out of Violet. He then tried dive bombing past, no mean feat of acrobatic flying given the branch formation of Violet s house. Still no luck. He finally resorted to flinging owl pellets and struck lucky, a bull s eye right in the middle of Violet s back. She quickly unfurled her wings and looked around to find out what had hit her. Suddenly, she spied Vincent hovering just outside and waving his wings frantically. She checked to see that nobody else was awake and flew out to tell him exactly what she thought. What are you playing at Vincent, it s still the middle of the day, she said crossly, her tone beginning to soften as she saw how worried her friend looked. Violet was a very small bat, a fraction of the size of Vincent, but tough as old nails. Nothing bothered Violet. I m sorry Violet, I just needed someone to talk to, said Vincent looking down at Violet. Come on let s head over to the old Witch s tree. It must be bothering you if you would risk waking me up at this hour. She half smiled at him, and set off into the dusk for the shelter of the old haunted tree. This had been a secret place of their s since they had been tiny bats. Only Violet the fearless little bat had dared to venture there, and prove that the old witch no longer lived in the tree. Though he would never admit it, Vincent was always just a little scared of that place. When he was young he used to have nightmares about ending up in a witch s cauldron, part of some magic potion. Still, it was the perfect place to explain his shameful secret to Violet. He was more scared that she would laugh at him than he was of the witch s ghost. But he should have known his friend better. As soon as he had finished telling her about how he couldn t drink blood and whenever he even saw blood he would come over all strange; a bit cold and shivery, a bit clammy and damp and then Thud.he would faint. She looked up at his big sad eyes and said softly, You re afraid that everyone will laugh at you and say that you can t really be a vampire bat after all. He nodded glumly. Well there is nothing for it, we will have to sort it out, said Violet matter of factly. Right, what we need is a plan of action, you must practice for all the other events and make sure that they are perfect. Also, by doing that you will be no different to all the other bats practicing for the Challenge. And let s face it Vincent, most people think you re so good at everything that you should win. She paused for breath, and Vincent groaned at the mere thought of facing the competition and everyone finding out about his problem with blood. While, you re doing all that, I am going to do a little bit of research for myself. I have a few bats to see. Give me a week and we will meet here next Saturday at the same time to discuss tactics, said Violet preparing to fly away. She paused and turned giving Vincent a big smile, Chin up Vincent, we can sort this out. You could always rely on Violet.

Violet was true to her word, and was very busy researching Vincent s family over the next few days. Bats are very secretive creatures and it is often tricky to work out who is related to who. Luckily for Violet her great Uncle was the official keeper of records, and being his favourite niece she was able to get his help. Then armed with a list of aged bats, Violet headed off to talk to some of Vincent s relatives. And what an impressive list it was. First she was to see his great great uncle Dracula. She was feeling just a little bit nervous about seeing this famous bat. But she needn t have been worried. He was perfectly charming, although a little surprised to be asked about his drinking habits. My dear girl, I think that this blood stuff is a little bit over rated. I always like to curl up with a strawberry milkshake just as the dawn breaks. Does wonders for my wrinkles, said Dracula smoothing his fur. That is very interesting Sir, because I have heard tales of bats who can t drink blood and can t even stand the sight of it. Do you think But before Violet could say any more, Dracula interrupted her. My dear child, such nonsense, who has ever heard of avampire bat not liking blood. I wouldn t want you to get the wrong idea just because I like the odd strawberry milk shake. Why I have my impeccable reputation to think of. Why I was one of the most feared Vampires in my time and to think I didn t like blood would be ridiculous, perfectly ridiculous. I, I loved the stuff, just a bit rich for me these days, I mean I wouldn t want you to get the wrong idea. Dracula continued to stammer and protest his love of blood, as Violet slowly backed her way out. She could still hear him, ranting by now, as she flew away. Next she headed over to Vincent s great Aunt Battina. A very glamorous, ex movie star bat. Come in darling, drawled Aunt Battina. What a tiny thing you are, she exclaimed looking Violet carefully up and down. I understand you want to find out about my diet and beauty tips. I can see that I can help you enormously. Well let me see and with that the old bat reeled off all her beauty tips while Violet began to fall asleep. At one point when she paused for thought, Violet took her opportunity. Do you believe in the beauty properties of blood? asked Violet. Why do you ask dear? They are as ancient as the hills, I never like to drink a drop of it, too much for my tender stomach these days. Mind you I do bathe in it every other day, fantastic for glossy fur, said Aunt Battina, turning from side to side so that Violet could admire her fur. As Violet worked her way through Vincent s family, a pattern was slowly emerging. There were certainly quite a few of them who didn t seem too fond of blood. Maybe they had the same problem as Vincent, but not quite so severe. But

never the less none of them were willing to admit to it. They all seemed rather embarrassed. She needed to find out more about this to help Vincent. Meanwhile, Vincent was throwing himself, literally, into practicing for the Three Vs Cup. Already, he had perfected an amazing daredevil stunt flying routine. Many of the other young bats had stopped their practice to watch Vincent. He swooped, he dived, he looped the loop; he was awesome. Unfortunately, the moon had been almost full over the last few days, which had made it difficult to practice his moonless night time navigation. But Vincent had gone one further, he had been practicing his navigation completely blindfolded and it was perfect. If it had been any other bat, they might have been accused of showing off, but not Vincent. He was good, even great, but not a show off. Even his poetry reading was faultless. When ever he cleared his voice to start a small crowd of female bats gathered to swoon over his romantic verse. It might have been Vincent who had the problem with blood, but I think some of these female bats had the same problem with Vincent. At the sound of his poetic voice they would come over all strange; a bit cold and shivery, a bit clammy and damp and then Thud.they would faint. Finally, there was Vincent s dance routine, and boy was Vincent a cool mover. He had been an avid fan of the old disco movies, and John Travolta in Bat Night Fever was his all time favourite. He could swing his hips, point his wings and slide the full length of the dance floor, he was a natural disco king. If the girls were swooning at his poetry reading, they were positively dropping like flies when he danced. Just one gyration and they screamed. There was no doubt, everyone knew that Vincent would be the winner of the Three Vs Cup this year. Only poor Vincent knew the truth. He was quaking inside at the thought of the Blood Ceremony to mark the end of the cup challenge and that moment when all would be revealed. Then everyone would know he wasn t a true Vampire bat. Violet had one final person to see, Vincent s great grandfather, Papa Fangs. He was considered to be a bit eccentric, a real batty old bat, and a recluse. She had to go to the far edges of the forest, past the old witch s tree and into the old haunted graveyard. Now Violet was not easily scared by anyone s standards, but still she felt a little uneasy passing through here. She was beginning to wonder whether it was a good idea to come here after all when she saw the crumbling stone cross that marked the entrance to his cave. She took a deep breath and flew in. Hello, anyone home? Papa Fangs, are you there? she called. There was a rustling noise from the far side of the cave. Who s that? It s a long time since anyone called me that, came a croaky voice. Much to Violet s surprise a small shrivelled, greyish coloured bat emerged from the darkness. He was almost as small as her, and despite the gruffness of his voice there was an unmistakable kindness in his face. My dear girl what are you doing here? Not many young bats would be brave enough to venture out to this lonely place, he asked kindly.

Well, I am doing a survey as to the drinking preferences of elderly bats. I mean do you prefer milk shakes, tropical juices or blood for your favourite tipple? stammered Violet. She saw a dark expression pass over his face, then it softened and he fell over laughing. He laughed so long, and so loud, that Violet feared he would not stop before he did himself some real harm. I m really sorry Papa Fangs, I shouldn t have come here. It s just that poor Vincent, your great grandson is worried about his graduation and the Three Vs Cup. Well, the Blood ceremony to be more precise. He, he can t stand. But before Violet could finish the old bat had stopped laughing and interrupted her. He can t stand the sight of it, let alone manage to drink it? Whenever he sees blood he comes over all strange, a bit cold and shivery, a bit clammy and damp and then Thud.he faints? Yes, you know about it? How? What can be done? asked Violet eagerly. My dear girl, pull up a branch, and when you are settled comfortably I will tell you all about the unfortunate curse that hangs over our family. While Violet settled herself, she couldn t help but see the sadness in his eyes. Once she was comfortable he began his tale. It began many bat centuries ago, when there were two noble bat clans, the Sonar Lunars and the Blood Claws. Vincent s family were descended from the Sonar Lunars. Now, as with many clans in history there was a lot of rivalry. There were also a lot of headstrong young bats who couldn t, or wouldn t, see the point of the old ways and traditions. It had been forbidden that bats from the two clans should join together. You can guess what happened, a young beautiful female bat fell in love with a handsome male from the Sonar Lunars. They were so love struck that they flew away, eloped and were married in a neighbouring region, by a priest bat from the Nightallis Clan. You can imagine the trouble when the young bats returned. Both Clans would have nothing to do with this young pair, and everyone said that nothing good would come of the match. They settled on the remote edge of the region away from both Clans, and next spring they had their own youngsters. A fine pair of young bats, and another that was only whispered about, a freak, a vampire bat that couldn t stand the sight of blood let alone drink it. The gossips and the old bats had a fine time saying how the family was cursed, and that marriage between the Clans was doomed. Pressure was put on the young couple to get rid of this freak bat. So sobbing one night the mother bat, Night Shade was her name, took her youngster to the edge of the forest. A remote spot, near an old graveyard, but she couldn t do it. She just couldn t get rid of her son. So instead, she put the young bat into a deep cave, and left him with some fruit and berries. She never told anyone what she had done, but she used to go back there every month, just to check he was okay. And do you know? He grew into a splendid adult bat, strong, and handsome, and clever. As time passed, Night Shade began telling everyone about a young nephew, a distant relative who was coming to stay. By this time, everyone had forgotten about the freak bat, her son, and no one suspected anything when a fine healthy bat came to stay. Why would they guess

that this was the very same bat they had banished all the years before. Night Shade was ecstatic to have her son back, and no one ever guessed their secret. Now Night Shade was a wise bat, she knew she had to help her son over come his fear of blood if he was going to survive in the Clan. So, she consulted the old witch of the tree for a potion, a medicine to help her son. The potion couldn t be used all the time, but could be taken at those times when he knew he had to face blood. Old Papa Fangs paused and sighed. Violet looked up at him and asked, How do you know all this, and how come nobody else has been affected? He smiled and carried on with his story. Well, it turned out that the family hadn t actually been cursed, but that they were just different in how they were made. This meant that some of them couldn t stand blood and couldn t tolerate it at all, and others just didn t like it very much because it made them feel ill. Most of the family are fine, and are just mildly affected, like Great Uncle Dracula. They, like him, just prefer a nice strawberry milk shake to a glass of warm fresh blood. Then there are a few like Vincent who were really badly affected, and couldn t stand even the sight of blood. There hasn t been anyone in the family like that for a long time. Well, in fact, not since myself. I guess, you are wondering how I got through the graduation ceremony in my day? Well, just like Night Shade s son I managed with the help of the old tree witch s potion. A wonderful medicine. Papa Fangs stopped talking, flew to the back of the cave and came back with a small bottle on a string. He looped it round Violet s neck. There, that will help Vincent. And don t worry I have plenty of it. We have moved on a lot since the old tree witch s day. You didn t think you had to go and pester the old ghost for a potion did you? I worked on the formula for many years, and I now have my own chemical still set up at the back of the cave. I m relieved to hear that, said Violet smiling. She thanked him, and promised she would be back soon to visit. Soon the next Saturday came, and Violet was waiting for Vincent as night was falling at the old witch s tree. As he swooped in, he good see that she had good news for him. Even before he landed, she was telling him all about his family history, and how helpful Papa Fangs had been. Holding up the bottle of potion for him to see. He now knew that everything would be all right. How right he had been to trust his friend Violet. He could now even look forward to the Three Vs Cup, and no little blood ceremony was going to cause him any trouble, not with his new medicine. The night of the Three Vs Cup came. It was a black velvet moonless night, perfect for the competition. All the bats taking part, and their proud families were there. It was going to be a wonderful night. Vincent couldn t remember the last time he felt so happy. The competition got off to a good start with the daredevil stunt flying. There were some spectacular acrobatic moves, but none of them could compare

with Vincent s routine. He swooped, he dived, he looped the loop; he was awesome. Then there was the moonless nighttime navigation, and Vincent was perfect. He was positively enjoying himself by the time it got round to the poetry reading. He cleared his voice to start, and there was a collective sigh from his young adoring fans, swooning over his romantic verse. Finally, it was the dancing, and Vincent was already dancing on air. He was swinging his hips, pointing his wings and gyrating like the king of rock and roll. By now the females were dropping like flies, and the air was filled with adoring screaming. He was a real star, and everyone knew he had won the competition. The Three Vs Cup was certainly his. They all crowded round for the final passing out ceremony; the Blood Ceremony. The Principal bat swooped in majestically, carrying the golden goblet of blood. Vincent looked up, and panicked at the mere thought of the blood. Oh no, the potion wasn t strong enough, the medicine wouldn t work. He was so close to the cup now. He could feel his knees going weak. He could feel himself coming over all strange, a bit cold and shivery, a bit clammy and damp and then, it stopped. He was fine. He had done it he had graduated, and won the Three Vs Cup. Everyone cheered as Vincent was carried proudly on everyone s shoulders through the crowd. Hooray, for Vincent, Hooray for Vincent, they called. Vincent had won with a little bottle of medicine, and a lot of help from his friend Violet. No one could question that he wasn t a true Vampire bat now. A little bit different perhaps, but that was his family secret.