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The Vampire Tutor

By Lacie_Scarlet All Rights Reserved ©

Humor / Fantasy

Chapter I: A Demon in the Bathhouse? Really?

"Let me get this straight."

Three pairs of innocent, round eyes looked up at their fairly unamused tutor, whose forced smile twitched at the presence of his precocious, insufferable, students.

"First, you ditch my class. And if that is not offensive enough, you three still had the audacity to sneak into my office, kidnap my companion Doctor, dress him up in a chicken costume, before parading him around in that ridiculous Bubble-Cart of yours. And now you expect me to believe that there is a demon in the bathhouse."

Those three pairs of eyes merely blinked at him uninterestedly.

"A demon. In. The. Bathhouse."

Anael, the eldest of the three, rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Are you done yet?"

Sigmund held himself back from glaring daggers at his rather infuriating student. Anael, despite being the eldest of the siblings, had little to no respect for her elders, a tongue sharper than his own fangs, and was – excuse his language – a total and utter bitch.

"There are no such things as demons, milady."

The middle child, Michael, scoffed.

"You're a vampire who teaches magic to angel children."

The youngest, Victoria, broke out into tiny giggles.

Sigmund shot a glare at Michael, who glared back at him as if he wasn't talking back to a possibly vicious, immortal, bloodthirsty vampire. A vampire who really hated angels and their arrogant kids and was only serving them so that he could work off his bloody contract and possibly catch the eye of their deliciously hot father – umm wait, boss.

"Look, if this is your way of making me fall into one of your half-baked schemes, it's not working very well in your case," Sigmund responded tiredly. Honestly, he could be doing something extremely productive right now. Like catching up on the latest vampire drama on the Fangs Channel or knitting Doctor a new kitty sweater. His companion had been rather cranky after being shoved into a tiny chicken costume earlier today.

Anael stomped her feet impatiently, her light-blonde curls flitting messily around her heart-shaped face.

"We're not frigging lying to you, Siggy. Can't you trust us just this once?" Sigmund twitched at the casual version of his name, shoulders stiffening. If he wasn't bound by that infuriating contract of his or the fact that this bitch – I mean girl - was the daughter of his handsome employer, he would've ripped her throat out in seconds.

Thankfully, the wisest of them all, Victoria, promptly saved their holy asses in an instant.

She looked up at her beloved tutor with her big, doleful blue eyes, lips pursed like Victorian doll's.

"Please, Mr. Tepes? Please believe in us. We need your strength, Mr. Tepes."

Sigmund would've been lying if he said this little angel girl didn't just melt his nonexistent heart with a single pout. Or significantly bolster his insatiable ego.


Anael, previously throwing a tantrum, perked up in surprise. Michael's solid gold reading glasses almost fell off his nose.

"However, if I find out this is all an elaborate prank, angel training time will be tripled," Sigmund bared his fangs in warning, his red eyes gleaming at the prospect.

The three angels-in-training shuddered at the sudden change in their tutor's personality. As much as they figured Sigmund to be a sarcastic, eccentric, feline-loving idiot, they often forgot that the person teaching them was a manipulative, blood-hungry pureblood vampire with a penchant for massacring entire armies in his spare time.

You could imagine that angel training was absolute hell for the three siblings. It was that one torturous hour a week of Sigmund going in a frenzy and relentlessly murdering the three siblings. Over the span of two years, Sigmund already had an uncountable kill count while the angel siblings had none. Not even once did they come close to scratching their invincible tutor.

"Of course, Mr. Tepes, we'd never lie to you!" Victoria answered nervously, trying not to flinch when Sigmund's bloodlust suddenly spiked to nerve-shaking levels.

"I hope not, milady, because if not –"

Sigmund left his students hanging. The killing intent dispersed as quickly as it was released, his eyes turning back to its usual, pale-red color, the trademark grin returning to his face.

"Well, milord. If you could lead the way?"

Michael nodded, hoping nobody would notice his legs trembling as he forcibly removed himself from the safety of the life-sized cat idol. His reading glasses had already disappeared from his face and his blonde curls had spiked into a million different directions.

Sigmund tilted his head slightly.

"You should use some of your father's holy hair gel. Keeps your hair nice and slick. Befitting for a gentleman, no?"

Michael gulped inaudibly at the mock concern in Sigmund's tone.

"Dear Lucifer, I'll lead the way," Anael announced in annoyance, yanking her brother's arm as they quickly made their way out of the room before the young angel lord wet his pants. Sharing an uncertain smile, Sigmund and Victoria followed suit.

The group eventually made their way up to the upper levels of the castle. Sigmund had to admit, the towering, blinding white castle with the size rivalling that of the palace on Mount Olympus was no doubt very impressive. Sparkling white towers and columns, a solid gold drawbridge, tall, iron gates surrounding the castle's perimeter. Every inch of it was enchanted, encased with a thick layer of barrier and illusion magic that could only be broken by either Sigmund or the siblings' father.

The higher levels, consisted of mainly the royal family's chambers, the guest chambers, the bathhouses, and the throne room, which became a meeting room after a few centuries. The middle rooms were the recreation rooms, classrooms and the training rooms, and the staff chambers. Though Sigmund was part of the staff, he had his own quarters on in the higher levels, miraculously next to his boss's own private chamber. His office, however, was on the middle levels.

The lower levels, otherwise, the 'basement', was prohibited to any angel below the rank of Archangel. It even had a nice sign that said: Keep Out. Danger. Have A Good Day Assholes placed over the entrance of the lower stairway. Of course, Anael, Michael and Victoria broke that sacred rule on a daily basis and Sigmund could remember more than one occasion where he had three screaming angels flying to him and rambling about 'three-headed dogs' and 'fluffy flesh-eating horses' and 'dung on my goddamn wings!'.

Sigmund could go in and beat the living crap out of every fairly dangerous beast there, but he'd probably create a castle-sized crater and he wouldn't want to upset his steaming hot angel boss like that –

"We're here."

The entryway of the East Wing bathhouse stood proudly in front of them: large, two meter iron doors apparently leading to the most prestigious bathhouse across the land. It was almost unnerving how intimidating it looked dead into the night. Without the presence of magical lights or torches, it almost looked like the doorway to Death, not a bathhouse filled with the sounds of running river water and the addictive scents of rosemary and lilac bath salts.


A column of light burst out from the angels. Covering his eyes for a mere second, Sigmund casually reverted his gaze upon his students. Each one of them had equipped their chosen celestial weapon, their adolescent, fluffy white wings fluttering gracefully on their backs.

"Overkill, much?"

His students all blushed in turn.

"You're barely armed," Michael pointed out.

Sigmund gave him an 'are-you-serious?' look before promptly punching the iron door with a resounding BOOM!

'Punch' was an understatement. The vampire had literally ripped a human-sized hole through the supposedly impenetrable door without breaking a sweat. He even had the audacity to bare a fanged grin at his students, who were nonetheless torn between flying away at the speed of light or bluntly asking him to pay for the damages.

"Do you think I need weapons?"

They chose neither.

"…we…should go now," Michael forced an encouraging smile.

"I don't think this is a good idea…maybe we should leave it alone…it might be friendly!" Victoria persuaded, even though she was hugging her staff like a stuffed teddy bear and shaking violently like a leaf.

"Honestly, you two, chickening out now?" Anael asked disapprovingly.

Michael glared at his older sister, "I'm not the one who ran screaming like a little girl to Sigmund."

Anael blushed furiously at the mention of her devilishly handsome tutor.

"Shut your holy trap Mich!"

"I told you, don't call me that," Michael's bright blue eyes flashed a terrifying gold, tightening his grip over his spear.

Anael snarled, "I'll call you anything I want you stupid head disgrace of a –"


Anael and Michael quickly turned to their younger sister, who was grinning nervously and pointing at the door.

"…So yeah…Mr. Tepes just said we'll getting triple angel training time and 'Study Training from Hell' if we don't go in in the next ten seconds –"

Victoria didn't need to say anything else before her siblings grabbed her by the arms and shot through the man-sized hole with their tails - I mean wings - tucked between their legs.

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