Vampunk
sʇɐq ןooɔ ǝɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıƃuɐɥ
The soft hum of the motor was drowned out by the blasting tunes from the car's somewhat dated stereo, a mix of 80's rock and occasional radio stutter filling the awkward silence in the vehicle as they drove along a winding street leading into one of the many suburbs surrounding the big city.
Whereas other young adults would spend this fresh Friday evening in bars, socializing, spending time with friends or trying to find some date to fill the gaping void in their chests the Connor family was having entirely different plans.
While other fathers took their children to amusement parks, into the woods to play and enjoy nature or fishing, the Connors were out for an entirely different form of family bonding.
And it did involve hunting, yet instead of rifles and fishing rods their car's trunk was stuffed to the brim with silver-coated weaponry.
From curved silver knives to the smallest caliber bullets, they were carrying a small jewelry shop worth in the shimmering metal with some garlic-infused tear gas grenades and wooden stakes mixed in.
Every turn and every bump in the road making their load clang and rattle like some baby's toy.
All the while the leather seats of the old Chrysler model were occupied by three Connors on their usual pest-control excursion.
"Turn it down a notch, Tamara." Hank Connor, the sister's father sighed, his forehead an intricate design of various wrinkles as he raised an eyebrow at his daughter sitting next to him in the front, chewing somewhat loudly on some gum and making the other passengers smell a faint scent of strawberry in the air.
"Ugh, sure." The older of the Connor sisters retorted with a shrug, her fingers coming to turn down the volume of the Blue Oyster Cult song currently playing, the tunes slowly fading as the melody got lost in the humming of the motor and the rattling of their hunting apparel.
Leaning back into her seat Tamara gazed into the rear mirror, trying to catch her sister's gaze who had both backseats for herself.
"So, what about this nest, Da?" Tamara finally tried breaking the awkward silence as she crossed her hands behind her half-shaven head, her fingers brushing through the messy hair on top of her head.
"Just some small fries. But that won't stay like that forever, as you girls probably already know." Hank remarked as he allowed himself a soft chuckle, scratching through the grey of his sideburns as they melded into the black of his stubbly beard.
"Better getting rid of them tonight than have them breed like rabbits and kill everyone from here to the next suburb. Besides, according to Matt they're only five bloodsuckers there, just enough for it to warrant us intervening." The Connor sister's old man added as he concentrated on parking their car a few hundred meters away from the abandoned farmhouse that supposedly was being used as the Vampire's lair.
Opening the door Tamara stepped outside, stretching her slender form as her pierced tongue licked over her dry lips, taking in the chilly autumn air as she adjusted her leather jacket, pulling the zipper all the way up to her long neck and her somewhat pointy chin before flexing her sore muscles.
"Finally, I could have sworn my legs would go numb before I got to actually use 'em." Tamara joked with a smile adorning her sharp facial features.
Turning her attention towards the backseats the raven-haired huntress opened the door for her sister Sky, nudging her to join her in the cool night air while their father was going through the trunk's contents.
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