Roy wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and exhaled slowly as he stood at the edge of the kerb looking up at the old Wallerston clothing factory. The building was a long, broad wooden structure with tiny windows high up in the walls. On one side of the building an old tarmac parking lot was now overgrown with weeds, tendrils poking up through the faded surface and wrapping around the partially collapsed chainlink fences. To the other side the broken remnants of an old cheese factory slumped like an old skeleton against the late afternoon sky. Between these barren neighbours the old clothing factory looked almost respectable, despite the many holes in its wooden cladding.
Roy had a letter in his hand. This was not unusual, Roy being a mail delivery worker, but he’d never had to deliver a letter to this building before. He passed it every day on his route but he’d always thought it was abandoned. He pushed his bicycle up the kerb and headed up the cracked path toward the doors. As he neared the building weeds gave way to dust, the shadow of the factory choking the life out of the ground. Roy kicked out the stand on his bike and balanced it at the bottom of the steps. He looked over his shoulder quickly, checked that the street was empty, and climbed the steps.
He’d expected to find a mail slot in the building’s front door, or perhaps a mailbox, but the dilapidated wooden doors hung slightly ajar on their hinges and there was nowhere to put the letter. A paler patch on the wall indicated where a mailbox had once hung. Shrugging to himself Roy pushed on the door gently and it swung open. It was cool in the shade of the building, so Roy wasn’t in a hurry. He stepped into the dimly lit interior of the old clothing factory and looked around. There were old machines covered in dust, rotten fabric in piles, and a row of mannequins all staring towards the door. Their blank faces looked somehow sad in the silence of the large building.
“Hello?” Roy called out, the letter held out in front of him. “Anyone here?”
For a moment there was only silence, then a voice called out from somewhere inside the building. “Down in the basement, please.”
It was a gentle voice, with a slight European accent. Roy was surprised to find anyone in the building but he had a job to do, an envelope to deliver. He pushed past the first row of mannequins and walked between two bulky steam-press machines. A trap door stood open in the middle of the floor with stairs leading down.
“I have a letter for you, Mr Alucard?” he called out, reading the name off the envelope as he tentatively stepped down onto the top step.
“That’s great, my friend. Please bring it down,” replied the smooth voice.
Roy smiled and felt himself relax. Something about the voice was so cultured, so friendly that he found it impossible to be nervous when he heard it. He bounded down the stairs like a Labrador returning a stick to its owner, full of enthusiasm.
At the bottom of the stairs a man stood in the shadows, his eyes glinting slightly. He was dressed in elegant evening dress, as if he were ready to attend the opera or a state ball. He reached out a white gloved hand and took the envelope without speaking.
“Have you been here long?” Roy asked to break the silence. “I always thought this place was empty.”
“It has felt empty, until now,” the man replied. He smiled, showing pearly white teeth. His canines were abnormally long, wickedly sharp. “But I need not be alone any more.”
The man dropped the letter, unopened, and fixed his eyes on Roy’s. He raised a hand dramatically like a stage magician mesmerising his assistant and let out a quiet hissing sound. Roy smiled blissfully and began to sway gently in time with the man’s hand movements.
“Do not worry my child, it will be over quickly and you too will be a creature of the night,” the man reassured Roy as he stepped forward and bit into his neck.
Roy smiled to himself and patted the mailbag at his side. He’d been right. Alucard was a vampire. It had been risky coming here, but it was going to pay off after all. He ripped the bottle of holy water out of his bag and tipped it over Alucard’s head, tearing himself away from the vampire’s iron grip. Smoke began to pour from Alucard’s head as he flailed and screamed, and Roy grabbed the wooden stake from his bag.
“Why? I would have shown you the night as you had never seen it!” the vampire screamed.
“Whatever sucker,” Roy replied, lunging forward and plunging the stake into the vampire’s heart. “I don’t want to be a postal worker forever. I’m turning monster hunter, freelance.”
Roy was talking to a pile of ash now, but that didn’t stop him.
“I can collect a small fortune for these.”
He bent down and picked up two fangs from the pile of ash, popped them into his pocket. The letter, a lure in Alucard’s own handwriting, could be left as a warning to any other creepy crawlies.
You don’t mess with The Postman.
Questions:
1. How is a spooky atmosphere built up in this story?
2. What language techniques are used?
3. Is there anything surprising about the ending?
4. What do we learn about Roy in this story?
5. What do we learn about Alucard? Is he a stereotype?
6. How could this story have been made better?