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Lightning flashed, shattering the misty darkness of the haunted village. It was a dark and stormy night. Upon the cursed hill overlooking the townspeople was a haunted mansion, forsaken by ordinary folk fearful of its dread spirits. One could see through its windows a chamber illuminated by haphazard candles strewn about, an abandoned long table flanked by cobwebbed chairs at its center, guiding the eyes of any would-be visitors to the other end of the hall. There was an ornate throne, upon which sat the Count Vanitas, vampire lord of the manor.
Bedecked in rich gothic attire, he scowled across the room between the high collars of his cloak, slouching imperiously. The doors on the opposite side opened and allowed the entry of the ghoulish vampire Noé, the Count’s right hand man. He too was dressed as befitting his station, although rather than black he wore ghostly white. He politely made his way to stand before the Count.
“Speak, Noé!” barked the irritable vampire lord.
“Lord Vanitas,” Noé began. “I just came back from the human village.”
“Oh…?” replied Vanitas, once against slouching impetuously. “And tell me what you have learned.”
“Well,” Noé began. “I first meant to go to the bakery to get tarte tatin. Thanks to all this rain, it was too dark for the sun to shine on me, so it was safe enough to leave the manor in the daytime. Also, the bakers always invite me in so there was no trouble there. However, I was told that they had run out of tarte tatin, and I was a little sad about it. But they were nice enough to direct me to another bakery that they thought still had some tarte tatin for sale. So I left on my way to this other bakery, and saw a pretty grey cat on the way. This cat didn’t mind my presence! So without further ado I went ahead to give it some scratches—”
“NOÉ!” roared the Count, his patience wasted by this rambling story. “WHY are you telling me about the cat and the tarte tatin? I had thought there was something important you wanted to tell me.” He impatiently clawed at his armrest, cutting up ebony swirls out of the wood.
But Noé patiently waited out the vampire lord’s fireworks, looking not particularly impressed.
“My lord, you’re too impatient. I was merely telling you the story from the beginning, and that’s the most sensible way to tell it. You would always just jump right into the middle without concern to how confusing that would be. I do wish you would not be in such a rush.”
The only response was the click of Vanitas’ fangs as he clenched them in suppressed rage. However, after a moment, the heat subsided and his mood turned grumpy.
“Very well, Noé. Proceed.”
“Ahem, as I was saying, I met with this lovely cat, but it was at this time that I overheard quite a strange rumor. There is unusual chaos afoot in the village! The zombie dhampirs Dante, Beatrice, and Johann have apparently been selling dubious concoctions to the village folk, leaving them with ailments and curses with no recourse. Why, I do believe the apothecary is a sheep at this very moment. The local vampire hunters have taken it upon themselves to join a nunnery and this is upsetting the nearby residents. Actually, I am curious about how Roland, Olivier, and Astolfo look at this very moment…could it be that Maria and Georges are involved too? Aside from that, I have heard that the werewolf Jeanne has broken out of her chain meant to minimize her mischief when the full moon arrives, and she’s running about playing pranks on those around her. It’s really gotten out of hand and I have a suspicion that I haven’t heard the half of it.”
“Oh, hell and damnation.” Vanitas double-facepalmed with demonic vampire claws. “I’m supposed to be in charge of a village, but here I’m learning it’s a circus. Is this Ruthven’s doing? Does he want to get back at me? Or Francis Varney? Could it be Saint Germaine? By Satan, this sounds like something he’d love to have cooked up. I have to do something about Jeanne too, ah…”
Noé rested his hands on his hips in a matter-of-fact sort of pose.
“No use crying about it, my lord,” he said. “All we can do is start somewhere. What is your command?”
Vanitas dashed to his feet in front of his throne, striking a suitably impressive pose for a vampire lord. The Count Vanitas replied “Have a cake prepared! If that woman has any weakness it’s sugar. With enough luck it will stall her long enough to bind her again.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
The Count Vanitas grimaced, the memory of what occurred the last time Jeanne had freed her bonds upon the full moon still strong.
The Count had been struck by how cute Jeanne looked with canine ears gracing her head, eyes wide and animated with excitement upon seeing him.
Her black clothes ragged on her frame, the swell of her full breasts evident, her décolletage in full view, the pale skin of her cleavage drawing his eye as she lunged at him with eyes full of lust and adoration, her body pressing against his.. The screams he had released rang throughout the castle, Jeanne’s howls of triumph almost as loud.
Vanitas shuddered at the recollection.“Blast it Noé, we can’t think that way!”
The Count had ordered her chain to be strengthened to prevent another escape.
“I refuse to be humiliated by that comly canine a second time!”
“Actually, Lycanthropy is-,” Count Vanitas produced a cane from behind his chair. Noé knew from experience that his lord would use it. “Very well Lord, I will prepare a cake.”
“Have the Dhams rounded up and bring them to me for interrogation, I need to know where they procured their dubious concoctions. Oh, and make sure that Roland is aware that if he comes into my village dressed as a nun I will have him flogged for his tomfoolery!”
“It will be done, Count Vanitas.” Noé suspected his Lord would once again be Jeanne’s chew toy. The Count would be impossible afterwards in his sulking if the last time had taught him anything.
---
At the same time, Jeanne was sneaking around the houses of the spooky village. She was already looking forward to visiting her lord Vanitas, whom she hadn't seen for a while.
Out of spite, he had had her put in chains, but she knew very well that this had only happened because the young lord was afraid of his own longing and couldn't run away with her.
But before indulging in the delicate dessert, it was only right not to neglect the starter and the main course. It was time to play some pranks in the village before she was caught again.
“Which way, young she-wolf?” Jeanne heard a voice say behind her.
When she turned around, Jeanne recognized a young blonde nun whose bright green eyes almost distracted from her unusually large muscles. She was also unusually tall.
Damn. Jeanne had better not mess with the church now. She batted her big puppy eyes innocently at the nun and wagged her tail.
“I just wanted to steal - I mean buy - some cake from the bakery. But unfortunately there's no tarte tatin today!”
The nun smiled graciously at Jeanne. “It seems to me that cake is not the right food for a wolf. I'd better take you home to your master.”
Jeanne remained silent, uncomfortable, and then looked sadly at the chain of her necklace. She ran in the direction of the great count's hill.
Roland noticed that those chains bore no signs of having been forced. At that moment, the mischievous she-wolf's expression allowed him to deduce what was happening. He sighed, slightly moved. "Oh, these lovers.... Young lady, wait for me, don't leave this poor nun alone!” His voice echoed in the distance, as he lifted the skirt of his long robe and ran after her.
The woman just kept going with a determined look. “Vanitas, you will not escape my jokes!”
—
Dante checked on the supply of joke potions. Sales had been great. They had random effects upon drinking that lasted about 24 hours. Anything from giving animal traits, to giving super strength and endurance. One of them could even cause the person imbibing it to lay a golden egg. This was the main reason people kept taking a chance on the potions.
The trick to good sales was making sure the golden goose was one of the last potions to be sold each year. Luckily the villagers hadn't caught on. They would allow the buyer to choose from 5 bottles and the good one remained hidden until they were down to the last 5. It was finally time to place the golden potion on the table, marked by a faint ring on the cork.
Just then, they heard voices of potential customers coming up the road. A very wolfish Jeanne bounced around the bend, followed by a strange looking nun.
“Trick potions for sale! Guaranteed to be an experience you never forget! Give it to a friend for laughs or take it yourself for a chance at the Golden Egg!” Dante's pitch was well practiced.
“It's a trick?” Jeanne's ears twitched. “Just what I need!” She grabbed one and took off.
“Wait, you need to pay for that!” Dante yelled.
“I am terribly sorry.” Roland pulled out a coin pouch, “I will pay for hers and take 3 more. If my sister's and I take these, I am sure God will grant us a boon that we can share with the people!”
—
Jeanne finally had an appropriate trick for Vanitas. She burst into the castle to see most of a huge tarte tatin on the table. Someone must have tasted it for quality control as there was a piece missing..
Jeanne was nearly side tracked by the treat, but she noticed a tapestry rustling and saw familiar spats-clad ankles poking out below the heavy fabric.
Jeanne pounced, bringing the entire tapestry down with Vanitas trapped inside.
“Hey! Careful! Your treat is on the table.” Vanitas squirmed and managed to get his head out, to find his face very close to certain curvy assets. He jerked his eyes upwards and saw the hungry look in Jeanne’s eyes. “What are you doing?”
Jeanne grinned, wolfishly, and pulled the stopper from a strange bottle. “First we need the trick!” She shoved the bottle into his mouth and dumped the contents before he even knew what was happening.
Vanitas tried to spit it out, but at least half of it went down his throat. Vanitas felt a strange heat in his body that seemed to center on his derriere and his head.
“You have ears! Now we match!” Jeanne exclaimed with glee, grabbing the cat ears that sprung through his hair to stroke them.
Vanitas shook them away from her, ears clinging back along his hair. He had to distract her somehow. "You'll need a treat to go with the trick, then. Have some of the tatin, Jeanne."
He pushed her aside and stood, despite the white tapestry clinging around him like a shawl. He extended a hand to help her up, ignoring the unusually curved claws on his hands. More nonsense from the potion.
Jeanne took his hand to stand, then raised it above his head so she could grab the tapestry and twirl him out of it. She pulled him into a hug, and suddenly those bright blue eyes were looking down at her.
He broke free and walked off, before she could move. This annoyed Jeanne— but it did let her notice the black cat tail swaying out behind him. She stroked it as she walked past him towards the tarte tatin.
He stopped in his tracks and shivered at the contact. "I'm going to kill Dante later... these had better be temporary," Vanitas groaned quietly, looking back at the tail.
She had two plates in one of her hands (fortunately, he realized, she had cut him a smaller one than the wide wedge on the plate that must be hers), and was holding a piece of his out to him on a fork. He saw the eager look in her eyes, the excitement in her ears, and couldn't quite refuse the cloyingly sweet bite of apple.
She held up the fork closer to his mouth, the idea of the sugar making contact with his lips causing him to shudder. Vanitas didn't want to fight Jeanne on her endeavors, especially not now when her energy seemed too high to get her to actually cooperate. He noticed the playful glint in her eyes as she tried to feed him a bite of the desert, wondering how she could possibly be so enthused by the whole ordeal. Regretfully, he parted his lips, opening his mouth just wide enough for her to slip the forkful inside.
Jeanne giggled as she watched his ears twitch, his nose scrunching up at the taste of the sweetness on his tongue. Her own eyes were blown wide as she watched him swallow it, surprised that he let her do such a thing considering how he had made it clear before that he didn't like sweets, but nevertheless, she persisted. "My turn~" she said, offering him her fork.
Vanitas gave her a confused expression, not at what she was wanting him to do, but why she was having him do it. Regardless, he figured compliance was key in this situation, taking a large piece of her slice and feeding it to her in return. She took the bite eagerly, licking her lips afterwards to clean up the remnants of the sugar. Jeanne stared at him as she did so, her gaze filled with a different kind of energy than before…
Vanitas only stared back at her, mortified at the realization of her expression. She wanted more, whatever "more" was. Jeanne leaned in forward, almost pouncing on him, eyes blown wide with lust and hunger, hunger for something she desperately wished to be satiated. She bit her lip, eyeing him up and down as her little wolf tail wagged back and forth. "You're absolutely adorable, you know that?" She said, her grip on his shoulders tightening.
She sprung, tackling the vampire lord in pure wolfish enthusiasm.
Vanitas hit the floor with an “ACK”, the impact distracting him from what Jeanne was doing until he felt canine teeth nibbling at his neck.
It finally happened, he’s become this wild animal’s chew toy! He knew the moment Noé told him of Jeanne’s escape that this was what was going to happen eventually, that regardless of whatever threats or bribes he could invent, Jeanne would circumvent them all to get to her real prize. Vanitas, disoriented but fully reaching the peak of annoyance, flailed his limbs (and new tail) pointlessly while Jeanne proceeded to nibble on the neck she often admired.
“Jeanne, damn it, you’ve gone too far now!” Vanitas did an adorable cat hiss that was precisely not the intimidating aura he wanted to project. “You’ve had your treat and clearly you’re playing a trick, now put an end to this right this instant!”
Jeanne seems to have heard but responded with nary an interest in complying. Instead, she casually entangled their legs to reduce the thrashing somewhat so she could more easily separate shirt buttons from buttonholes and reveal more skin for the biting.
The feel of Jeanne’s wandering hands infiltrating his clothes was terribly exciting, inconveniently exciting. The evening wasn’t done yet, after all! There’s still villagers to untransform and nuns to force out of nunneries, so there’s no time for him to waste playing savage beast and ravished maiden with Jeanne while she has him in a jujitsu hold on the floor.
“Jeanne…” Vanitas grit his teeth. “I surrender. What do you want? I’ll give it to you, just let your rampage come to an end.”
She raised her head to stare him in the eyes, a victorious gleam shining in them.
***
Noé was in the kitchen, cleaning up. He wasn’t the one to bake the tarte tatin, of course, Vanitas had expressly forbid him from taking on any of the cooking in the household after too many disasters from Noé’s uniquely “expansive” tastes. But Noé told the cook to leave the clean up to him and go ahead home (the nice fellow was a zombie who lived in a graveyard that was a bit of a walk, no need to keep him now that his work was done.) He figured the dhampir business could wait just a little longer. Everything was just about in order when a piercing cry broke the silence.
“YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”
The pathetically miserable, unmistakable voice of the Count.
“He’s in danger!” Noé turned fiercely, dreadful claws revealed, and charged to the other side of the manor to fight whatever was threatening Vanitas.
He burst through the doors ready for vampire hunters. But there were none. He was confused until he saw Vanitas on the floor.
All of his clothes were missing. The vampire was anguished and beet red, weakly wrapping himself in a fallen tapestry in an attempt at modesty. Also, he had some cat features? Noé didn’t know where to start.
“She…” Vanitas said, voice shaking. “She can’t get away with it…”
“Away with what?” Noé asked, totally perplexed and the question just escaping his mouth before he intended to speak.
“For shame, Noé.” Vanitas grit his teeth. “Jeanne stole everything .”
“Uh…”
“NOÉ!” Vanitas cried out. “Go down to the village, we don’t have to worry about Jeanne anymore. But we still have those blasted nuns and undead dhampirs to deal with. I’ve had enough! Enough of this foolishness! Go. I will follow after you…later.” He hung his head.
Noé marched to execute his master’s orders, pleased he'd maintained his composure in the face of the vampire’s unique state. He would have to ask Jeanne how she’d bestowed feline ears upon his master, and what she’d done with Lord Vanitas’ clothes so he would be able to have them properly cleaned. He would have to locate her after finishing his current errand.
Noé found himself wondering if he would enjoy having cat ears.
Before he could make progress down that road of thought, he arrived at the village. Would he go deal with the nuns or the dhams first….
Pulling out a coin, he flipped it in the air, and caught it as it fell back to the ground. Placing the coin on his palm, he saw his first task would be.
A smile full of conviction spread across Noe's face; fortunately, he was almost sure where Dante and company might be. He just had to follow the rare fragrance of the potions.
So, without wasting any more time, he put away the coin that decided for him and soon quickened his pace with incredible leaps from building to building.
The wind blew against his face on this peculiar Parisian night.
—
Meanwhile, Jeanne lay half-naked on Vanitas's bed; the count watched her sitting next to her.
Who would have thought that such a mischievous little wolf could look like a delicate fairy now?
He took a deep breath and took a sip of his white wine. He wasn't used to drinking, but this time it was warranted; perhaps a glass could calm his poor heart.
It seemed unfair that she could sleep peacefully after everything she had done to him while he had to deal with the memory of her playful actions; not to mention that she had turned him into a cat man.
This is ridiculous! Vanitas clicked his teeth, forming a grimace on his face as he touched his pointed and furry black cat ears.
He briefly remembered that she had given him an affectionate nibble, causing a slight shiver both then and now.
Unlike the pink little wolf, Vanitas was already dressed like the dignified count he was, but he couldn't hide those damn cat ears.
With his bare fingers, he dared to brush the girl's cheeks, careful not to wake her.
Vanitas! She suddenly spoke in her dreams with a sweet smile, surprising the vampire.
You don’t stop your mischief even when you’re asleep! he murmured, blushing as he hid his face with his free hand before taking one last sip of his drink and getting up.
---
Roland arrived at the nunnery where Olivier was smoking, resigned to the tomfoolery. Astolpho seemed happy that he made so much cuter a nun than Roland. Astolpho did everything better than Roland, but somehow Roland always seemed able to sweep people up with his annoyingly cheerful personality. Like tonight. Roland was grinning that stupid grin and holding up 3 mysterious looking bottles.
“God has given us a gift tonight! These potions are said to bring great fortune, and I can feel God's will on our side tonight.” Roland handed a bottle to Astolpho and Olivier before popping the cork from his own.
“I believe I will pass. Whatever this is, haven't you caused enough trouble tonight?” Olivier took another drag at his cigarette and wished Roland had brought liquor instead of whatever this was.
“Don't be afraid to trust in God. Let's all drink together. Unless you're scared.” Roland teased.
Astolpho pulled his own cork, “I could never be afraid of anything you can handle.”
“Fine. I can't have the 2 of you getting into trouble on your own. What does it do?” Olivier eyed the bottle skeptically.
“We’ll find out when we drink and that's half the fun! I assure you it will be harmless and has a chance to be very valuable! 3! 2! 1! Drink!” Roland downed his potion in a single gulp.
Astolpo hurriedly drank his even faster than Roland to prove he could do this better also. Olivier winced, just knowing this was a bad idea, but pulled the cork with the little gold mark and downed his potion too.
Each of them felt a tingling warmth coursing through their bodies which started changing shapes.
“What in the world did you do to us???” Olivier squacked as he felt a very unpleasant tingle of pin-feathers poking through his skin. Astolpho was growing fur and long bunny ears, and Roland…. Roland was a bleeping dragon. Green, scaly, 12 feet high with a mop of yellow hair on top. And still, somehow, wearing a nun’s habit.
Olivier continued to change shape I to a large goose. At which point he felt a very strong urge to sit on a nest. He was pretty sure he was about to lay a bleeping egg. He glared at Roland “SQWAWK!” (I hate you right now.) “HONK honk HOOONK Squack!” (F! This is a big egg and very uncomfortable)
–
Noé sniffed at the air again. Why would Dante be at the nunnery, of all places? But he could smell the potion there, stronger than anywhere, and he had to sort out the vampire hunter nuns anyways. He leapt onto the roof, debating whether to sneak inside or just knock— it seemed so untoward to barge into a convent, but Vanitas had sent him off in such a rush…
Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to. A goose burst out of the door honking wildly, a nun following in chase of it. Noé jumped down to catch the goose as it ran around the corner of the building, wrapping the panicking thing under his arm.
“Here you go, Sister, were you getting it ready for All S—”
“YOU!” He was interrupted by a kick spinning towards his face. This nun had legs, too. Luckily Noé was tall enough to take it on the shoulder, but he dropped the goose, leaving it to waddle rapidly away.
Noé wasn’t sure what to do. Was it okay to hit back in a convent? Should he get away from it and see if she chased? And why was there a dragon behind her with a massive grin, roaring in laughter at them both?
The dragon seemed like the most pressing problem, so Noé grabbed her by the collar and tossed the very startled nun the same way the goose had run. He could handle a dragon… probably.
The jet of fire incinerating his hat begged to differ, but at least he’d ducked fast enough to avoid it and grab onto the dragon, as its strangely amused roar sounded all the louder. Now he had to find some way to bind it— the nun was angry enough already, he sure wasn’t going to kill anything here. He stripped off his coat, and used the nun’s clawlike hands to help pull it around the beast’s head as she flew past him in a rage. That should holds its (insufferably grinning) mouth shut.
The nun’s rage looked oddly familiar. “Sister… Astolfo?” He realized. “You look even more like a girl than usual. And do you have rabbit ears?”
This was not a sentence that would calm the vampire hunter. The dragon- Roland, he realized, finally seeing the hair for whose it was- was kind enough to hold on to the edge of the habit with one hooked claw and spare him all the rage that this very angry nun could direct at him.
It took some persuasive apologizing (and a persuasive dragon) to convince Astolfo that he was looking for the dhampirs to reverse these curses, too. At least he seemed to want the same thing as Noé. Olivier had to be fetched from the chicken coop, but he seemed much more cooperative, even relieved, as Astolfo dragged him out.
Noé jumped up onto the blond dragon and extended a hand to help Astolfo up. He received a glare and was handed the goose, as the nun clumsily drug himself up as well as he could in a skirt. Once Astolfo was settled, he pointed towards the town with his ruined hat, little but the rim left unburnt. “To the dhampirs!”
****
Dante was feeling rather satisfied with himself.
He’d kicked back his feet on a table at a tavern in the town center, counting up his stacks of coins from a day that’d had gone well. Johann and Riche were properly sloshed at the bar, chatting about something that he didn’t care too much about. The point was that he made loads of money and that was one of Dante’s few pleasures in life, getting paid and knowing that his skills had pulled it off.
He was just considering what he’d buy first when the doors to the tavern violently slammed open. A veritable menagerie tumbled in, a blonde dragon, a constantly honking goose, Astolfo in a nun costume with long pink ears and the friendly servant of evil, Noé.
Dante had a bad feeling about this. He quickly started scooping his money back into his sack.
“Uh, sorry, store’s closed and there’s no more potions for you guys—”
The goose flung itself onto his table, scattering coins everywhere in a flurry of angry honks. Dante shielded himself from exasperated bites and wing slaps.
“Hey, quit it! I don’t know what’s your problem you stupid bird!”
The dragon calmly made itself a spot next to a stunned Johann and Riche by the bar, somehow perching its huge body on the tiny stool. Astolfo found himself a corner to sulk in.
The honking continued for a few seconds more before it was suddenly silent. Dante was confused until he realized it had just laid a perfectly polished golden egg. The goose jumped off the table to waddle off in a huff.
“Ahaa…” Dante let out in a sigh, seeing that the final golden potion had found its way to someone.
The door slammed open again, Dante jumping wondering if an elephant or a flock of ducks was about to barge in to harass him. Instead, it was the dark ruler of the town, Vanitas. Except he was devoid of his usual mocking attitude and rather shabbily dressed compared to what he usually wears, having donned his laundry day outfit of old slacks and a frilly shirt. He also looked extremely tired.
He raised one hand and uttered syllables in an Eldritch tongue, and suddenly all the beasts in the room transformed into their real selves.
“Dante.” Vanitas said in a dead voice.
Today’s successful salesman looked at Count Vanitas with surprised panic.
“I’ll make you pay for this.” Vanitas hung his head as he said these words.
“W-why don’t I give you the golden egg and we’ll call it even?” Dante stuttered while trying to play things off with a lighthearted smile.
“And you’re paying for the chasseurs' drinks! Hey, you chasseurs, you’re not nuns so stop it already!”
Roland gratefully accepted an ale from the tavern-owner, who had just left hiding when he realized there were no more monsters in his establishment.
“Mmhmm! Sure thing, my lord, it’s just about time we were going home. How about it, Olivier?”
“I want to forget this day as soon as possible. And I need a cigarette.” Olivier winced.
“That settles it then,” Roland replied cheerfully. “How about you Astolfo?”
“You don’t need to tell me…” Astolfo grumbled back.
Vanitas turned his back to the room to go back outside. Before he took a step, he looked over his shoulder to call out to Noé. “Let’s go home. There’s probably tarte tatin left for you as a reward, dear Noé.”
“Tarte tatin!” Noé cried out in triumph.
It was, as Jeanne would call, a happy ending.