STORY NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER 12
For all the Velma chapters so far, click here
Chapter 20: Meanwhile

The first thing Velma did after quenching her thirst on seven or eight pints of butcher’s blood, was fall asleep. When she woke up she found that Sammy had discreetly deposited his ones and twos where he thought no one was likely to see them – under the coffee table. Velma found the poor little guy hiding in the kitchen, seemingly worried he’d be in trouble, so she assured him that wasn’t the case.
“Good boy Sammy, good boy. It’s not your fault. When you gotta go, you gotta go. I’m sorry I can’t take you out yet.” She stroked his back and rubbed his tummy and he licked her hand appreciatively.
The doorbell rang and Sammy growled.
“Shhh, shh boy, good boy,” Velma whispered, “ignore that, we won’t answer that.” She looked around the kitchen asking, “are you hungry?” and then, “oh, I guess not,” when she saw that he had raided a low cupboard and taken as much bread and cereal as he could eat. “We’ll go out when the sun goes down,” she told him, “get you some proper food.”
The doorbell rang again and Sammy looked at her. She shook her head and put her finger to her lips and he seemed to understand. He stayed quiet anyway.
She wondered how Andy and Muriel were doing but thought better of calling the police station to ask for an update. Instead she switched on the butcher’s desktop computer. It was password protected and she was no hacker so she tried butcher, and butchershop, and meateater, and carnivore but none of them worked and she couldn’t think of anything else a butcher might choose for a password. She looked in the desk drawer and found a spiral notepad, a pack of cards, a pencil, a couple of pens, and a pile of window envelopes with bills inside, held together with an elastic band.
She sighed and leaned back in the swivel chair, accidentally knocking the keyboard sideways and revealing a note taped to the desk underneath it. It read pass4321word.
Very relieved, she typed it in and was away! She googled the local magistrates’ court and found the day’s listings. Andy’s name appeared in the morning schedule for Court 1, and Muriel’s for Court 3. It didn’t say what the hearings were for but she thought they must be bail hearings. Afterwards, hopefully, they’d have been released. Then Andy would tell Muriel what she’d told him – that they could find her at Monty’s, and that they should get rid of their phones. So they’d both come and meet her there after dark. Hopefully.
She looked at the time. It was nearly 2pm which was when the afternoon court sessions start, so they must have the results of the morning’s hearings by now. The telephone number of the magistrates’ court was on the screen. She keyed the number into the butcher’s landline and was soon very relieved to discover that Muriel had been released, right before she was shocked to discover that Andy had been sent to HMP Mortimer – a high security prison eight miles away.
“Oh poor Andy,” Velma said to Sammy, “I’m so sorry I got him into this.” She lifted him onto her lap and cuddled him. “But I’m going to get him back to you Sammy, I promise you.”
Velma went to the butcher’s bedroom and looked through his wardrobe. She needed to change out of the Margaret outfit. After that she signed the butcher up for a seven day free trial of DisneyPlus, snuggled up with Sammy and watched Buffy season four until the sun went down. Then, finally, they could go out for a walk. She didn’t have a lead but that was okay because Sammy was determined not to let her out of his sight. In recent months he had come to trust her almost as much as Andy.
Velma knew the most shadowy, unsurveilled routes to Muriel’s place and that’s where she was headed. She could only hope there would be no police presence there. It was risky. That may well have been why they let Muriel go home, so that they could catch her when she visited. But what choice did she have? She went via the churchyard, just in case Andy had had a chance to tell Muriel about Monty’s.
When they arrived at the crumbling grave of poor Montgomery Endcliffe who died in 1872 of consumption (aka Tuberculosis – thanks very much dairy industry), Muriel was already there, sitting on an adjacent bench.
Sammy barked excitedly and ran to her. “Oh Sammy,” she reached out for him, “I’ve been so worried about you! Yes I have, yes I have,” she crouched down and nuzzled him. “Thank God you managed to get him Vel,” she was so relieved to see their friendly faces. “Thank you.”
Velma reached down and squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry I got you and Andy into this.”
“We wanted in,” she replied, “it’s not your fault.” Muriel sat back on the bench and patted the space next to her. “What are you wearing by the way?”
Velma sat down. “Butcher’s jeans,” she told her, “butcher’s shirt and butcher’s jumper.”
Muriel pulled a face.
“Well he doesn’t need them anymore,” Velma smiled. “They’re clean! Smell me – eau de non-bio.”
Muriel laughed. “No thanks.”
“Margaret was looking a bit shabby and I couldn’t change at my place could I?”
“Oh. I guess not. What are you going to do then? Stay every day in your prey’s home?”
“I’d rather not, no. My days are numbered in this town. Time to get outta Dodge.”
Muriel was shocked. “What? You’re gonna leave us?”
“Not you, no, this town.”
“And I’m in this town! I’m stuck in this town!” She lifted the hem of her right trouser leg. “With a bloody high-tech ball and chain round my ankle!”
Velma closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “So I’ll get you out of it.”
“The ball and chain or the town?”
“Both if you want. It’s up to you.”
Muriel breathed again. “Okay, good,” she said with visible relief.
Velma smiled and nodded. “So, what’s the situation with you?”
Muriel told her about the curfew and the ankle monitor’s GPS. “They know where I am right now Vel, I don’t think we should meet here again.”
“Agreed. Okay, tomorrow, half an hour after sunset, we’ll meet at, erm …”
“McDonalds?” Muriel suggested.
“Yes, good thinking, I will need a drink by then.”
“Okay, well, I’d better get home before my curfew – do you want me to take Sammy?”
“Yes please. Then I can go to the prison to talk to Andy.”
“He’s in prison?! Oh no, poor Andy! Why did they send him to prison and let me go?”
“Who knows. Different judges I guess. What did they have on you anyway?”
“They knew I’d worked your shift to give you an alibi. Accessory before the fact they said.”
“Yikes. I guess once they knew who we were it was pretty easy to retrace out steps.”
“Unfortunately. Hey Vel, I left my phone at home but you don’t think they can hear us through this ankle thing do you?”
Velma’s jaw dropped. I hope not, she mouthed silently. Bring a pen tomorrow. We’ll write things down and she mimed writing.
Muriel nodded. “Come on Sammy,” she said aloud. “It’s okay to say some things out loud I think,” she whispered almost inaudibly. She smiled and waved at Velma as she began to walk away, then turned back suddenly. “I forgot to tell you,” she whispered, “I found out the other day – Tom was the one who complained about you!”
That sleaze! Velma mimed a dramatic shocked expression followed by a fist shake and a silent I’ll kill him!
Muriel gave out a short laugh and then her face dropped. You’re not really going to kill him are you? she asked silently.
Velma grinned. Probably not she mouthed. She rubbed Sammy’s head then looked at Muriel and pointed at the church clock. Muriel nodded, gave Velma a quick hug, and set off home with Sammy.
***
When the Velma-Bat arrived at the prison she took an aerial tour of the buildings, looking for a misty way in. She decided on the main entrance, hoping to find some kind of security booth where they kept records of where all the prisoners were confined, but she had no luck on that score. Luckily there were signs on the walls pointing to various colour-coded sections of the prison including one which directed people to the INDUCTION WING. The Velma-Mist kept close to the floor and flowed smoothly in that direction. She reached a corridor of heavy steel doors, about ten feet apart. She wasn’t noticed by a prison guard walking in the opposite direction, exiting the induction wing shortly after she entered it. There were no other staff to be seen and she hoped her misty self wouldn’t be captured on any CCTV monitoring. She intermittently floated up from the floor to peek through the window of each steel door before dropping back down to floor level. It only took a couple of minutes to find Andy and, as soon as she did, she slid under his door to join him.
When she corporealised he nearly jumped out of his skin. Then, without a word, he reached out and hugged her tight. Eventually, she gently pulled away. He tried to hide it by wiping his eyes but she could see they were all red and watery.
He flashed an embarrassed smile. “I haven’t been crying,” he whispered, “honestly I’m made of tougher stuff than that.”
She nodded. “I know,” and sat on the bunk beside him.
“Vel – we’ve got to find Sammy! He must be going frantic!”
“I got him. He’s okay. He’s with Muriel.”
“Oh thank God.” He closed his eyes and his face flooded with relief. “They let Muriel go?”
“She’s under house arrest, sort of. She’s got a curfew. Ankle monitor.”
“Lucky Muriel. Why couldn’t they give me one of those?” he asked rhetorically. Then he smiled. “I guess it doesn’t matter now though. So, how do we do this?”
“Do what?”
“Make me a vampire? That’s why you came isn’t it? To get me out of here?”
“Wow, I thought you’d need persuading. I’ve been dreading telling you that I think making you a vampire is the only way I can set you free.”
Andy frowned a ‘come ohn’ expression. “They know I helped you get to London to kill the PM! There’s no way they’re gonna let me go! I need the power to mist!”
Velma’s smile was hesitant. “You’re sure?”
Andy tapped his wrist where a watch would be. “Uh huh. Chop chop! Before the guard comes back!”
“You’ll never be able to go out in the daytime. Ever again.” She had to be sure he’d considered everything. “You’ll have to kill people. Drink their blood until they stop breathing. You’ll have to do it again and again.”
“Serial killers,” he said, “I’d only kill serial killers.”
Velma looked at him closely.
“Do it now Vel, please, let me come with you now!”
She moved closer to him and tilted her head to the right. He did the same and she sunk her teeth into the left side of his neck. She was surprised by the speed of blood flow from the carotid artery and some of the blood spilled, ran down her chin and dripped onto the butcher’s jumper, but she soon got the hang of it. Andy gripped her arms, held her close to him and never once flinched or tried to pull away. Very soon his grip relaxed. Very soon he lost consciousness. Very soon he was dead. Kind of.
Velma laid his head softly on his pillow before becoming the mist and heading out to conduct a poll. She had to find some deserving prey for Andy’s first meal and she had to be quick. If he woke up before she got back there was no telling what chaos he might cause unsupervised.
She went from cell to cell asking inmates what they were in for. The first six just stared in mute terror at the strange woman who’d appeared from nowhere, but the seventh laughed insanely before answering the question.
“A travesty of justice, that’s why I’m here,” he laughed, “I’m going to sue the police and the courts!” he said with an air of arrogant entitlement. “Do you know who I am?”
“Should I?”
“I am the only jockey to have won the Grand National seven -”
“You’ll do,” said Velma and misted her way back to Andy’s cell quick smart.
When she got there he was a wolf who leapt at her, snarling viciously.
“Andy,” she said coolly, “you can’t get what you need from me. Calm down.”
He became himself again, with an added wild look in his eyes. “I’m ravenous!”
“I know,” she said, “your first drink is in Cell 15. Let’s go!”
Without hesitation Andy became a mist and followed Velma’s mist back to cell 15. Velma waited outside the door apprehensively. Not knowing what the time was, she worried about the approaching dawn.
She heard shouting from inside cell 15 – apparently the jockey was putting up a fight. She rolled her eyes and kicked herself. Forgot to tell him to hypnotise before biting! Unfortunately the noise reached the neighbouring cells, provoking reciprocal shouts and lots of banging on metal doors. A door opened at the end of the corridor, admitting a prison guard. He walked briskly through the corridor, looking in windows and banging on doors, shouting at inmates to shut up. When he looked in on Cell 15 he hit the red alarm button on the wall, sending an ear-bashing siren across the whole wing.
“Code 1 – cell 15!” The guard shouted into his radio as he unlocked cell 15 and opened the door. “What the -?”
Andy looked rather unattractive as he hungrily guzzled the last of the jockey’s life force through the brachial artery punctures in his upper arm.
“Hurry up!” Velma shouted at him. The prison officer screamed, stepped back from the blood-spattered woman who’d just appeared and fell over the horse-slaver’s body that Andy had just dropped. “Let’s go!”
Andy and Velma became mists again and retreated past two more guards running towards cell 15 armed with pepper spray and batons.
The Andy-Mist followed the Velma-Mist to the roof of the building where they both became themselves again. Andy felt in his pocket for a tissue to clean himself up but he didn’t have one so he wiped his face on his T-shirt.
Velma grinned. “Yeah, you’re a bloody mess,” she laughed.
“So are you!” he laughed back.
“I guess we’d better go somewhere to get cleaned up,” she smiled, “follow me.”
She dropped off the roof to become the bat and he did the same. They flew a couple of miles to a Centre Parcs where they misted under the door of an unoccupied Woodland Lodge, washed their faces and slept the day away.
****
Velma the Vegan Vampire belongs to Violet Plum © 2026

Violet’s Vegan Comics – creating funny, exciting and sometimes action-packed vegan fiction since 2012


Leave a Reply