Curse Of The Venkpire
Police officers investigated reports of an unmanned narrowboat, cast adrift on the canal near Ewood Park. Inside this unusual inland version of the ‘Mary Celeste’ was evidence of a violent struggle. There was blood splattered everywhere.
When the police forced entry, they discovered amongst the mayhem three coffins, each containing a lifeless corpse. What was particularly horrifying about this discovery was evidence of further human remains. The police concluded whoever had been in this narrowboat, either its owner or other passengers, had met a violent and grisly end.
Rovers’ boardroom was set aside for these coffins as a temporary mortuary. As the hours passed and day became night, other avenues were looked at to try and fathom out this mystery. The bodies – two brothers and a sister – appeared perfectly preserved and wouldn’t be going anywhere. So all three coffins were left overnight in Ewood Park.
During the night, creaks and scratching from within these coffins began to break the eerie silence of Rovers’ boardroom. The coffin lids started to twitch, then began opening slowly. Previous calm of the boardroom was finally shattered when devilish peals of laughter rose from now open caskets.
‘We are alive!’ yelled Bali.
‘No you fool we’re not, we’re dead,’ his brother Vinny replied.
‘You’re both wrong. We are Undead,’ their sister, Annie, interjected.
‘Oh dear, do I have to make final decisions on everything?’
Next day members of Rovers management went into their room for a Board meeting and were attacked by three venkpires. Their blood was sucked from them and they became mindless zombies, their only wish – to serve the venkpires. Eventually all three siblings took over Rovers, laying waste to the club and sucking life from its body. Their thrall manager wreaked havoc, taking them to the gates of Hell.
But as in ancient villages of Transylvania, there was resistance to this blood-sucking reign of terror. Brave diehards promised to end this nightmare. Their vow: to take back our club and exorcise its demons. They organised themselves into a liberation force and marched on the castle several times.
Fear began to take hold of these venkpires. Both brothers had to take flight from Wigan, returning early to their coffins when Rovers fans threatened to put stakes through their hearts. They tried to eject the thrall from their castle, only failing when their sister refused to wash her hands of him. Since then they have walled themselves up in their distant land, never more to set foot in Ewood Park. But a venkpire is a stubborn beast. It does not like to lose face, despite not being able to see it in a mirror.
But Rover fans know their victory will soon come. Our castle may be on the A666, but we fear no beast, its number is up. These Venkpires may own our clocks – but we have the all the time in the world. Our hour is coming and their time is ticking away.
We Rovers fans will become the slayers.