Author's Note: I just found out that they're rebooting Buffy the Vampire Slayer with a black lead. I love Buffy, but I can't write her dialogue very well. This is a new character facing off a sympathetic female monster, I hope, which was another article on The Mary Sue.


Elizabeth Anne Summers patrolled the alley with her stake. Her search for a vampire had led her outside a gay club, with neon lights flashing on and off, and no bouncer at the door. It looked warm and inviting, and despite not being male, Elizabeth was gay.

Elizabeth was also black and adopted by white parents. She didn't fit right, and she was the Chosen One for her generation to top it all. She should be at home watching TV and revising homework.

Her parents didn't mind her going out at all hours. They just gave her a phone with a list of taxis and believed her promise that she would stay safe. They thought she was out clubbing.

Did a male gay club count as clubbing? She didn't know, but the tracks had run cold, and the night was chilly.

Elizabeth entered the gay club and waved to the guy behind the bar. He was pouring glasses, lots of fruity cocktails to the clientele. She scanned the room and blushed at the number of men half-naked, and grinding up against each other, sometimes three or four.

Music blared out, and she didn't recognise the song. The singer sounded camp.

At the bar, she spotted a pale woman, tall and thin, dressed in edgy black, like an old-fashioned emo goth. Aha! A vampire! She had an empty glass, and was resting her hand on an elderly gentleman's knee, who looked uncomfortable. The vampire laughed.

Elizabeth huddled close to the wall and went round to the bar. She hid her stake inside her hoodie pocket.

The barman said, without looking at her at first, "What will it be, dear? Hold on, you're too young to be in here-"

Elizabeth grabbed his shirt from across the bar. "Who's that?" she hissed, staring at the vampire. Lots of the clientele nearby were making hands signals about her, like rude gestures.

"That's Miss Lorde," he replied, sounding a bit shaky. "She's in here most nights, making eyes at the men. She knows we're all gay, but she's writing a slash novel."

"Slash?"

"M and M. About two gay kids. She says she's researching."

Elizabeth relaxed and let him loose. It might just be a crummy old writer instead, but she gave off an imperious air.

Miss Lorde tilted back her head and tittered again. She felt inside his thigh, and he shifted her off, annoyed. He even stood up. "We're gay, you know!" he bellowed and stormed off.

Miss Lorde ordered another drink: tap water. She sipped it, and her sleeve fell back, revealing a skeletal wrist. She looked starving, as Elizabeth approached her. She fingered her stake.

Vampires who hunted tended to be on the porky side. The hunters tended to be leaner and harder to kill. And the blood bank raiders were the fattest of all. Miss Lorde looked like she shunned all methods.

Miss Lorde wrote down daintily in a red notebook with a quill-like pen. A fountain pen, Elizabeth corrected herself. Sort of. She just smelled old.

Elizabeth sat down on the bar stool. "Who are you?" she asked.

Miss Lorde looked shocked. "A black slayer? We haven't had one of you before in years!"

"You know who I am?"

"I can smell you," she replied. "What do you want with me? I don't hunt. I'm a writer."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "You're a vegetarian?! They don't exist."

"Lots of vegans exist, but I don't eat at all. I'm striving to be perfect. Hunger hones the soul, after all."

"I didn't know vampires had souls." Elizabeth grabbed her by her fragile wrist. "We should go outside. You're attracting a lot of funny looks."

Miss Lorde sniffed. "The gay boys, they love me. I'm their new mum."

Elizabeth laughed. "I don't think so. You're just using them to write stories."

"I'm researching my latest e-novel. Two young princes in love, but tortured by the times." She showed her the notebook, ruffling back through the pages. "What do you think?"

She sighed. On the first page, Elizabeth read two Mary Sues dressed up as men, crying overly emotionally without ever hugging, and described with rich, purple prose. "Nice," she lied. "Outside, now."

Miss Lorde left her water glasses, and stood up. She brushed minute bits of paper from her black skirt. She returned her notebook and pen to her handbag. Instead of checking her hair and make-up in the bar's mirror, she turned round and gave the gay men a ghastly leering smile.

Elizabeth dragged her out, all the time having her staring at men's swaying crotches and sweating bare chests. Some of the gay guys cheered as Elizabeth pinned her up a wall outside. They probably thought Miss Lorde owed money, and didn't care about her as she thought they did.

Miss Lorde's eyes widened. "What-what are you doing, you daft girl? Not in front of my gay boys! You'll scare them."

The gay men returned to making rude gestures. It looked like one of them was deaf, what with all the hand signals.

Elizabeth hauled her off the wall, and kicked her in the shin outside where it was quiet. She twirled her stake and threatened with it, point first.

Miss Lorde hobbled. "I-I think you've broken my leg."

"That was just a kick, vampire!" she snarled, but her heart thumped. She didn't like hurting people, and it was usually just a quick stake to the heart that worked.

Elizabeth punched her in the shoulder. There was a sickening crack.

Miss Lorde clutched at herself, and sat down. "I'm breaking! But I was so close to perfection!"

"Perfection?"

Tears sprung to her eyes. "I'm ever so fat. I'm striving to become leaner."

An anorexic vampire? thought Elizabeth. She had taken her for a humanitarian liar.

But she didn't want to miss her opening. She aimed with the stake, and stabbed Miss Lorde in the heart. She imploded into dust, crying.

Now there was nothing to do but tidy up.


Elizabeth resurrected Miss Lorde in a safe place. She poured a mound of vampire dust on the floor and splattered some animal blood onto it. She backed off.

Miss Lorde formed, rising upwards, dusty and tall. She looked upset.

"What ever was that for?" she asked, teeth chattering. It had been cold, dead.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I'm a slayer. You're a vampire."

"A slasher. A writer, I'd prefer."

"You won't be able to write any more until you get better." Elizabeth introduced to her to some uniformed staff. They were dressed in pale blue medical scrubs.

They snatched away her handbag and tipped it out onto the floor. A red notebook; a bottle of ink; a carved, quill pen; some eyeliner.

"You don't pay for drinks?" asked Elizabeth, expecting a purse, or even better, a map to her vampire lair. She could find the others...

"I drink tap water. It's healthier." One of the orderlies laughed, low.

They walked forward now, and held her by both arms. They escorted her out of the door to a ward. Elizabeth knew it was filled by monsters, most coming off a reliance to humans and making their own way in the world. It was the best place for her.

Elizabeth left and spoke to the administrator. "Will she be pardoned? She did eat a few gay men, I suspect."

The administrator sighed. "We'll try truth serum. She'll have prison reform for her crimes." He shook her hand. "So good to have a vampire slayer in the community for once. All the others just... staked and saved the world over and over again." He wiped his hand on a wet tissue because he was like that.

Elizabeth strolled out, proud of herself for once.

THE END