I'm writing this because I was bored. …and because I finished Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter at long bloody last. (IT WAS SO GOOD. NO SERIOUSLY, GO READ IT. IT'S SO GOOD.) Special thanks to keane5 for sorta giving me the idea. Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter is property of Seth Grahame-Smith. The Twilight Saga (oh, God, it hurts to type those three dreaded words!) is property of Stephenie Meyer.
One rather uneventful day, Abraham Lincoln received a letter from Henry Sturges, his vampire-hunting mentor (who was a vampire, by the way) which made the day a lot more eventful than before. It read:
All that glitters is not gold...
But this one glitters and is cold.
Go to the Northwest Territory and hunt this one down. He's a danger to everyone.
The name of this one is Edward Cullen. He sparkles in the sunlight, so I suggest bringing your 'martyrs' along with your axe.
Abe gathered his vampire hunting tools – his martyrs, his axe, and some wooden stakes with sharp silver tips – and put on his long vampire-hunting coat. He grabbed his stovepipe hat and placed it on his head. He was off to the northwesternmost corner of the country.
A fortnight's journey by train left Abe tired, but ready to face down this Edward Cullen. He wrote in his journal:
The train made two stops: one in Chicago, the other in St. Louis. Both stops I managed to slay two vampires who Henry seems to have never told me about. It wasn't too hard of a job, but I'm mighty tired. A night's rest ought to restore my energy. This Edward Cullen will be no more by tomorrow night.
Midnight, outside a cozy and unassuming inn in Olympia, a pale teenaged boy with messy, greasy hair and golden eyes stared into Abraham's window. Abe was sound asleep, clutching his axe tightly (with the edge facing the other direction, of course) and wearing his weapons-packed longcoat over his pajamas. The pale teenager used his fangs to silently cut a hole in the window, and snuck in. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching the axe-wielding man breathe as he slept. Edward Cullen watched intently. He was not afraid of the axe, nor was he curious as to what hid behind the man's coat. He just watched, all through the night.
The sun rose the next morning, and Abe woke up to the blinding glimmer of diamonds being hit by sunlight. He rubbed his eyes wearily, then clearly saw him: the pale teenaged boy was sparkling. Abe went on to describe his encounter the vampire in his journal:
He was blindingly glowing as the sun's rays shone on his pale body. His eyes, unlike most vampires I had encountered in my career, were golden instead of pools of inky darkness. He was a teenage vampire. About seventeen years of age, I would surmise. I was still in my pajamas when he lunged at me – incredibly fast. His speed was disturbingly animal, almost like a cat. As soon as I could, I grabbed my axe off of my bedside and gripped it tightly, swinging it like one would throw an anchor off of a boat into deep water, not letting go. The vampire Cullen was fast; he dodged it with ease. He laughed humorlessly as he dodged my axe. This encounter would prove to be a tricky one...
To be continued...