Some traits of a vampire can be related to the Headmaster, so Vampire!Headmaster Fic has been conjured up.


Ominous green eyes glinting in the moonlight, the Headmaster gazed up at the two-storey house, his high collared cape engulfing his tall frame. He had risen from his coffin an hour earlier, body sustained after his rest. Naturally, being several hundred years old, allowed him to shorten the resting time to three or four hours, meaning that he could gain rest and fulfil his duties as Headmaster during the day.

Not that he was Headmaster of St Champions anymore….

The brats may have found out his secret regarding his hypnotism, and how he had utilised it for years on end, in order to make his teachers and pupils perfect, but no one had uncovered his other secret. Yes, unlike much younger creatures of his breed, he could survive an entire day with minimum sleep, which he had used to his advantage, working in his office on his grand plans for up to fourteen hours per day. Yes, he was never seen eating by any of his staff or pupils, but if they had seen him sucking blood from some human's neck, then he would have encountered some difficulty in getting them to overcome their sudden shock, so that he could hypnotise a false memory into their mind. Although, if one of those Immune brats had seen him, then he would have been virtually powerless to stop his second secret getting out. And yes, he had heard the rumours from his troublesome pupils about him 'being a vampire' due to his attire, age, aloof manner, appearance, and apparent lack of digestion.

The Headmaster understood how lucky he had been to escape from those brats, with one secret still kept under wraps. Hypnotism was one thing, but a Vampire? That was on another scale, and the Headmaster did not want to be known in the press as a 'Blood-Sucking, Trance Inducing Freak.' So, he would continue to live his life as he had always done. Scornfully resenting the world for being so messy and unregimented. However, he would no longer be able to work in his office at the school, due to his resignation, hours after the Eddy Hair Show had finished that fateful night. Now, he would have to conjure up a new plan by daylight, then rest for a few hours after sunset, before skulking the streets at night.

Unlike the majority of his breed, the Headmaster was unaffected by sunlight, which he was grateful for. During his tenure as Headmaster of St Champions, he had usually confined himself to his office, but there were times when he had to venture outside during school hours, and each time, he blessed his tall frame and substantial stride as although the sunlight could affect his skin slightly, by the time it began to blaze down on him, he was out of the sun and back into the shadows of the corridors.

Still staring at the house, two fangs slid down out of his mouth, resting half-way down his chin. His eyes glowed as the last light extinguished in the house before him, and the Headmaster realised that now was the time to strike.

He crept towards the house, his thirst for blood increasing every step. He imagined the interior of the house in his mind, and ran the choice of his victims through his head. Five to choose from, but one was the most obvious.

Dinah Glass. She would be perfect to feed from. He would not need to waste any time ripping his glasses off of his pale face, as at night-time, there was no need to conceal his intoxicating and mesmerising green eyes from being seen. He could hypnotise her into staying quiet and make her wipe his presence from her mind, before compelling her to bare her neck, allowing him to sink his fangs into her throat and suck the blood greedily from her.

That clever little girl would have her life force draining away from her, and she would be powerless to halt it.

Noticing that one of the windows on the second floor was slightly ajar, the Headmaster gracefully swooped upwards, hovering in the air for a brief moment as he widened the window space, before moving into the room and landing, knees bent.

The Headmaster straightened, cape falling around him, and gazed around the room.

Airplanes. Everywhere.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, the Headmaster clapped his green eyes onto the small person occupying the bed, his sharp vision allowing him to examine every finer detail of his victim before him.

Harvey Hunter was lying on his back in his bed, eyes snapped shut, and chest steadily rising and falling. The Headmaster could sense that his heartbeat was slow, indicating that the boy was deeply asleep. His fangs extended as Harvey suddenly mumbled in his sleep and stretched his short limbs, resulting in more of his neck being exposed.

The Headmaster's pupils pin-pointed onto the expanse of the skin, all thoughts of feeding off of Dinah Glass vanishing from his mind. This would be his food source for tonight, and as the Headmaster moved forwards, he congratulated himself on going for the bigger challenge. The Hunter boy was weak, yet Immune. If he woke now, then the feed would be in jeopardy. The Headmaster slowed his movements just in case, tilting his head as he approached the boy.

Harvey's pyjamas were adorned with cartoon Aliens, and he was also wearing bright pink socks, displayed when the child started to kick his quilt and covers downwards, the bedsheets pooling at the end of the bed as Harvey's form became unprotected and completely vulnerable.

The Headmaster smiled as he bent down, face inches away from Harvey's. Next to the boy's head, lay a ratty looking teddy bear, and for a brief moment, the Headmaster's smile was replaced with a sneer. The boy would be maturing into a teenager in a couple of years, yet he still slept with a toy?!

Soon, the creepy smile was back and the Headmaster held his upper body up so that he could lean over the boy and get to the piece of flesh that he had been pining for, ever since he had entered the room. Settling his nose over the bare skin, the Headmaster inhaled the musky scent before placing his large hand onto the boy's fair hair, whilst his other hand coiled around Harvey's wrist, in case the boy bucked during the feeding, and he was thrown off guard.

The Headmaster pulled his head back, smile widening as he hissed into the silent night:

"Sweet dreams, little one."

Before lunging forwards and sinking his extended fangs into Harvey's neck. The boy moaned, and the Headmaster could tell that soon, the boy would rouse. He pressed his fangs in deeper and felt the child go limp. With a satisfied smirk, the Headmaster fed, as Harvey slipped into a dreamless slumber, unaware that his toy had been batted away by a flail of his arm, and was now lying on the cold carpet.