Zara the Slayer

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UncleBob
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Zara the Slayer

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She watched his eyes widening with astonishment, as if he couldn’t believe that this little girl had withstood all his schemes of destroying her, but there was also a faint panic, like a silver lining, in his composed features, a first crack in the stronghold of arrogance that is his immortality. His lips curled, the tongue searching for the so well known taste of salty blood that couldn’t be found, and opening his mouth, showing his razor sharp fangs, shining in pure white like a mockery of their deadly deed, he hissed, almost as if spitting his anger out at her “Women shouldn’t be allowed to play around with stakes. It’s unnatural.”
“Oh, yeah?” she said, giving him a cheeky grin “Suck on this!” and ran the stake deep in his forehead, impaling him for good.
The vampire shrivelled up, quietly, without a sound, as if still captured by his disbelief that a barely 5” 5’ tall and thin as a match woman could so tremendously kick arse.
“Better stay out of the sun,” she said down to his ashes, giving them the twisted victory sign before running her shoe through them and spraying them in the mild air of spring. “’nough for one day. Anyone for pancakes?”

- excerpt from the children’s book “Zara rocks the Vampire.”

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UncleBob
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Re: Zara the Slayer

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It burned in the eyes of those who watched, a moment of shock, frozen in time, the dash of Zara suddenly forced into a stumble and a fall. The point of her stake, still leading her momentum, aimed now at the feet of the Vampire, but not at the feet of mercy.
The Undead’s wax mask of mortal fear broke into a smirk, his body’s flexing muscles prepared to grab and smash, a lazy comment about high heels and sport in common forming on his delighted lips, but it remained unspoken. Still caught in flight, Zara turned her momentum into a somersault, smashed with her back hard onto the turf, her rolling over legs stretched out, stiffened, and pushed hard. The Vampire’s dying eyes wandered slowly down, over his frozen smirk to his satin doublet and the spot where the core of his unholy life felt the touch of Zara’s high heel, sticking good and proper in his chest. “Damn you, woman”, he uttered in disbelief a second before his words and body were blown in the wind.
Zara took a moment panting and crossing her fingers in mind before getting up. The match was still on the go, a quick glance at her fellow team-mates still pushing to reach the end-zone, a second glance at the board to check that there was enough time left for a visit to the side-line.
Spinning the stake absent-mindedly in her hand she set out towards the Vampires’ dug-out. Since those blood-suckers preferred to stay hidden than facing her on the pitch, life had been so much harder, she thought, while slowly falling into a run towards a Necromancer frantically signalling for the ref, and a dug-out, slowly blazing up in panic.

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