[#155] Bloodsucker (Torchwood)

[badly_knitted]

Theme Prompt: #155 – Vampires
Title: Bloodsucker
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 841
Summary: Something is killing animals, draining them of blood. Surely it couldn’t really be a vampire…



Thanks to being built on a Rift through space and time, the good people of Cardiff seemed to have just about everything thrown at them at one time or another. Aliens, both hostile and friendly, mysterious artefacts and technology capable of doing things that were hard enough to fathom, let alone believe, monsters from the past, and now, apparently, mythological creatures.

In the last couple of weeks, in and around the Welsh capital, five cows, nine sheep, three pigs, and a Great Dane had been found drained of blood, with two little puncture wounds in their necks. Understandably, people were beginning to worry; just because the victims so far had all been of the four-legged variety didn’t necessarily mean the situation would stay that way.

“It’s got to be a hoax of some sort,” Owen insisted. “Someone’s idea of a Halloween prank. There’s no such thing as vampires.”

“Maybe not on earth,” Jack agreed, “but who knows what lifeforms have evolved on other worlds?”

“Who’s to say our legends of vampires aren’t based on an alien that got stranded on earth at some point in the past?” Having distributed coffee to everyone, Ianto took his seat to Jack’s right. “What I can say for sure is that the crows are restless. They’re congregating in larger numbers than usual, and they’re not happy.” Being a were-crow himself, Ianto had taken to studying what he saw as his half-brothers and sisters, sometimes joining them in crow form, studying their flying tricks, and leaning to be more crow-like.

“Aren’t crows supposed to be like familiars to vampires?” Gwen asked.

“That’s bats,” Owen corrected, but Ianto shrugged.

“Depends who you ask. Some say crows, because they’re associated with death, are vampire allies. Others say they make excellent vampire hunters. The truth is probably somewhere in between. Crows will eat any carrion they find so it makes sense for them to congregate around dead animals, but I’ve noticed they tend to avoid aliens, even dead ones. They can sense when something doesn’t belong.”

“That’s all fascinating, but it’s not exactly helpful, is it?” Owen glared around at his teammates. “Doesn’t help us figure out what we’re up against.”

“Alien vampires.” Jack flashed Owen that megawatt grin. “What else can it be?”

“Suppose you expect us to break out the garlic, crosses, holy water, and pointy sticks,” the medic grumbled.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “That would be a bit pointless. I suppose it’s possible that alien vampires might be allergic to garlic, but I doubt they’re religious, and pointy sticks are much less efficient than bullets. That’s if we even need to kill our unfortunate visitor. It might just be doing its best to survive in an alien environment.”

“We could sit here all day, theorising over how to stop the killings, but shouldn’t we be out there trying to find whatever’s responsible?”

Jack nodded. “Tosh is right, we’re not doing any good here.” Downing the last of his coffee, he set his mug down. “Let’s go vampire hunting!”

Leaving his clothes neatly folded in Jack’s office, Ianto joined the rest of the team in crow form, figuring he’d be more useful providing air support. With his sharp crow eyesight, he’d be able to spot things the rest of the team might not be able to see at ground level.

While his friends scoured the area where the most recent killing had taken place, Ianto circled overhead, gliding effortlessly on a brisk wind. Crows didn’t have the best sense of smell in the bird world, but like vultures and other carrion eaters, they were able to detect the distinctive aromas of blood and decay, so he sampled the air currents constantly, alert for the faintest hint.

It took him a while to realise that although there were plenty of fellow crows around, making a racket in nearby stands of trees, and enjoying practising their flying skills, there was one small copse at the edge of a field devoid not only of crows, but of all other birdlife. Even the sheep were grazing in a cluster at the opposite end of the field. Flying down to Jack’s shoulder, Ianto alerted his lover.

“I’ll take a look,” he cawed in Jack’s ear.

“Be careful, just check it out and come straight back, okay?”

“Caw!” Apparently even crows could roll their eyes. “I’m not stupid.” Taking off, Ianto flew in a straight line towards the copse, circling above it, before dropping down among the trees. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, and he studied it for a moment from a nearby branch before heading back to re-join the others.

“Find anything?” Jack asked.

“How d’you feel about bats?”

“What sort?”

“The vampire kind, what else? Caw!”

“How many?” Owen wanted to know.

“One.”

“That’s it?” Owen snorted. “I think we can handle one little bat.”

“Idiot! Caw! Never said it was little! It’s hanging from a branch, asleep.”

“Must be nocturnal,” Jack said. “Most bats are. With any luck we can capture it before it wakes up.”

That proved more complicated than it sounded. For one thing, the bat was halfway up the tallest tree. For another, from feet to head it must have measured over two metres.

“Now what?” Owen sounded nervous.

Jack shrugged. “We wake it up, and if it attacks, we shoot it.”

“Wake it how?”

“Allow me. Caw!” Risking life and limb, Ianto flew up into the tree and pecked at the giant bat’s foot.

The effect was somewhat unexpected; the bat fell off its branch, landing in a heap on the ground, blinking blearily up at them.

“Ow, my head,” it complained in strangely accented Galactic Standard.

“Sorry, just trying to get your attention. Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood. You’ve been causing a few problems.”

“My apologies. Merfyn Drakul, at your service,” the bat introduced itself, untangling its wings. “I hope I haven’t caused offence. I appear to be lost.”

Jack grinned. “Perhaps we can help you with that.”


The End