16 June 2012
. Chapter One ..........................
Vladimir Fang swooped over the rooftops of Cherrybottom with all the grace a bat could muster. He had never been very good at flying, given his extreme fear of heights, but over the years he had learned to look straight ahead and forget about height. However, as passed over a street he couldn't resist the mad temptation, and looked down.
He couldn't draw his eyes away, and didn't see the town-hall weather-vane fast approaching. His wing whacked against it, causing the little brass cockerel to spin unstoppably in an anti-clockwise direction. Vladimir was unable to regain balance, and it was all he could do not to drop right out of the sky. The town hall tower was by far the tallest building in the town, which was a good thing for Vladimir, as although he was fast descending, he was able to cascade over two streets and land with an ungraceful thump on a gargoyle overhanging the church doorway.
Vladimir spun himself around, spread his rings out like a sinister cloak and perched ominously, watching the street below. Unfortunately, he was only about one floor up now, and didn't have the omnipotent view of the town he so preferred, but he could ascend again when he caught his breath.
Suddenly, the door below him swung open, but despite the fact he had almost had a heart attack, he remained as still as a shadow. "Well, thank you for coming, Peregrin. Your advice is always gratefully received." That was the vicars voice, and he stepped into Vladimir's sight, and he could see the outline of a small, slightly stooped man. Then another, stronger voice was heard.
"You are very welcome reverend, but I would be more than happy to do the deed myself. Free of charge, of course. You don't know what satisfaction it would give me to deal with this particular beast. You could say we have...a History."
The vicar shook his head. "Oh no, Mr Beetroot. This is a matter for the town's people to resolve. Besides, there are believed to be more of Them in the town than just him, but they cause us little bother, and we don't want you to get carried away, do we?" Peregrin Beetroot grunted. They stepped out of the yard and into the street, shook hands and went their separate ways.
Vladimir was not sure what to make of this, but he had an idea. He had to pay a visit to Augustus Fang, his cousin. If Vladimir was correct, he was in grave peril, no pun intended.
Fang • Opuss № I