My favourite piece from my latest art book, 'How to Draw Fantasy: Vampires', published by IMPACT [link]
Description: Lupine Vampire
“I am the caretaker of this school and you will do as I say!” Screamed Henry Wolfe at the top of his shrill voice.
The kids continued to pelt him with wet balls of paper, laughing hysterically at his purple face and wobbling cheeks. Once the pelting stopped they quickly ran off to get more ammunition, knowing full well that 'Old Wolfee' with his wide girth would never be able to catch them.
Henry stood there for a silent moment, dripping, his shoulders slumped and his head down.
“I hate children,” He grumbled to himself.
“Don't worry Mr Wolfe, I'll help you clean this up!” Chirped Britney Bishops.
Henry jumped at her voice, staring blankly at her, “No, you go on to class, Britney. Thanks anyway.”
The sound of the bell ripped through the silence between them, indicating the start of class.
“Oh, ok Mr Wolfe, I'll see you later!” She waved goodbye, smiled sweetly at him and cartwheeled down the corridor to class.
Henry stared after her, he was fuming inside. He shook his head and proceeded to clear the mess that was soaking the floor, and his clothes.
As he was begrudgingly toiling away, Henry started thinking, thinking more than he had for a very long time indeed. And they weren't nice thoughts.
As far as he could see, the reason he was stuck in this dump of a school was down to Britney Bishops' stupid father. If Henry had his way things would be very different, very different indeed.
Henry himself would be headmaster, yes! And Britney's pathetic, useless father would be cleaning toilets for a living. Hah! He told himself that he had been very patient, and that it must be time….. surely he could get revenge now?
He grinned evilly to himself. “Shall I use the key again? Could he help me? It is getting a bit dangerous now, especially as he seems to be getting stronger and stronger each time I let him out. Hmmmmm.”
He picked up the last of the mess from the floor, stood up, straightened his aching back and stretched his arms towards the ceiling. Something caught his eye to his right and he turned towards it. The school noticeboard displayed a large poster gently flapping in the breeze, on it were faces of local missing children, lots and lots of them. Henry's cheeks and chin quivered and his eyes bulged. Quickly, he snatched at the poster, tearing it from the noticeboard and, screwing it up he stuffed it out of view into his garbage bag. He checked the surrounding corridors nervously for any students that were not in class and, acknowledging that he was alone, chuckled to himself and shuffled off towards the school basement.
The basement was dark and dank, the narrow stairs were caked in crusty lime and the pipes along the ceiling were covered in rust, spider webs and dripped a strange, dark liquid. A pungent smell of old socks and burned meat hung in the air of the dingy, long room. The solitary light bulb lit a small area above the open furnace that was at the foot of the stairs. The smell seemed to be emanating from the side of the room where, along one wall, a row of bulging sacks sat, barely visible in the dim light.
Henry double checked that nobody was coming down the stairs, he then bent down in front of the furnace and reached his arm inside, his brow glistened as he strained to reach his prize. There was a muffled clang and he pulled his arm out, almost tumbling over as he did so. Pushing himself up, he raised his hand closely to his face uncurling his fingers to reveal a small leather pouch tied with a silk loop.
Despite his fat fingers and clumsy demeanour, Henry deftly untied the knot and emptied the contents of the pouch into his other hand. There in his palm sat a small golden key, the head was moulded into the shape of a howling wolf, the shaft decorated with twisting runes running all the way down to the two long, sharp fangs moulded into the key.
Holding it up in front of his wide-eyed face, it seemed to glow.
He quickly grabbed the shaft and stabbed the two fangs sharply into his neck! Just as quickly, he wrenched them out and threw the key across the room into the darkness, as he squealed in pain.
Henry began writhing and shaking violently, arms and legs convulsing so wildly they were barely distinguishable as limbs. One of his flailing limbs thrashed into several of the sacks, spilling the contents over the stained floor. Bleached skulls, bones, and chunks of rotten flesh skittered and slid about as he writhed like a madman on the floor. With gnashing jaws and frothing mouth, his teeth cracked and stretched into sharp glistening fangs, his face contorted and stretched forwards like a dog, causing a yelp to escape from his throat.
His eyes were turning a burning, deep red, large thick veins appeared on his neck and dull popping sounds could be heard coming from his neck and shoulders as his muscles grew, bunched and knotted into impossible positions and shapes. He hunched forward and his shirt exploded off his shoulders revealing a huge muscular back and bony spine.
Thick, wiry hair sprouted out from all over his body at an impossible rate and his hands and feet stretched impossibly long, each finger and toe ended in a dirty razor sharp claw. His breathing finally slowed as he knelt on the floor, head down, clawed hands resting on the floor, the process complete.
He looked up, slowly getting to his feet and, even standing slightly hunched over Henry was at least seven feet tall. He padded over to the small basement window, keeping well away from the sunlight shining through. He smiled to himself, bearing his wicked fangs.
“Time for revenge, sweet Britney!” He growled under his breath. “Tonight, on Lonely Hill you're gonna become just like me, little one. Let's see how Pappa Bishop copes with his precious angel of a daughter suddenly becoming, a little on the 'wild side'.”
He threw back his massive wolf-like head and laughed aloud, he then looked to the floor and he sighed.
“I'm forever clearing up!”