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From Morning to Night.

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This story is No. 3 in the series "Tails From The Slaughtered Lamb.". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Normally when you get turned into a vampire the demon kicks you out of your own body. Unfortunately for Hugh Wright he finds he is shar ing his body with a monster! Inspired by a Pink Floyd track and the Channel 4 TV series Ultraviolet.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Miscellaneous > Music
Television > Ultraviolet
(Recent Donor)DaveTurnerFR1515,192028942 Apr 082 Apr 08Yes
By Dave Turner.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the Channel 4 TV series ‘Ultraviolet’, or even the Pink Floyd Song ‘The Inside Out’. I write these stories for fun not profit.

Crossover: BtVS with Ultraviolet and inspired by the Pink Floyd song ‘The Inside Out’.

Spelling Punctuation and Grammar; Written in glorious English-English. English idioms are used throughout this fic.

Timeline: Set sometime after ‘Big Girls Rules’ in my ‘Tales from the Slaughtered Lamb’ series

Words: 4800+.

Warnings: Some Strong language.

Summary: Normally when you get turned into a vampire the demon kicks you out of your own body. Unfortunately for Hugh Wright he finds he is sharing his body with a monster!

Beta-ed by Rachael who, as I think I might have mentioned before, is a wonderful woman!


Weird music vid that has nothing to do with the fic other than the song.
By the way I didn’t make the vid either.


From Morning to Night.
By Dave Turner,

Hugh Wright woke up and searched for his alarm clock, his wildly flailing arm finally came into contact with the large brass timepiece after he had succeeded in knocking everything from the top of his bedside cabinet onto the floor. Groaning he brought the loudly ticking clock up to his face, his blood shot eyes blinked as he read the time; 6:05.

“Bloody hell!” Hugh growled as he dropped the clock on the floor next to his bed.

His eyes darted towards the curtains, no light leaked from around the edges, with a sigh he laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, what had made him wake up so early? He remembered going to bed at about two that morning. He’d been out celebrating the engagement of one of the girls in the office. What had started out as a few beers in a pub near the office had turned into a mid-week party at a night-club. Even at the age of twenty-seven Hugh was starting to feel he was getting too old for this sort of thing.

His memories were interrupted by the sound of an emergency vehicle going past in the road outside his flat. Turning over on his bed Hugh looked again at the curtains, it must be cloudy outside because it didn’t seem to be getting any lighter. Ordering his thoughts Hugh remembered back to the night before. They had gone to the club…what was it called? That’s it; Hugh smiled at the memory in the darkness of his room, ‘The Coffin Club’! The place was done up like the lab of a mad scientist in a 30’s horror film, it had fake coffins and skulls and…well really weird stuff all over the place. You got a lot of Goths and generally ‘strange’ people in there. Smiling again Hugh recalled the girl he had met; he remembered her ice blue eyes, her crimson red lips, pale skin and the most amazing pair of boobs he had seen in a long time. Another thing that stuck in his mind, which was odd, was her teeth. Why would he remember her teeth when he couldn’t remember her name?

Deciding that he might as well get up, Hugh climbed from his bed and staggered into his tiny kitchen to make coffee. As he passed through his living room he switched on the TV to get the early morning news. He stood in the kitchen spooning coffee into his coffee peculator and listened with half an ear to the presenter on the TV news. Something the girl on TV said made him look up and pay attention.

“That can’t be right,” he walked over to look at the TV; the presenter was a girl who usually presented the evening news, “this can’t be right.” He changed the channel to ‘News 24’ the BBC’s twenty-four hour a day news service.

There in the bottom left hand corner of the screen he saw the truth and stumbled back into the kitchen.

“FUCK! SHIT!” Hugh slammed his hand down on the kitchen counter making his coffee mug and kettle jump, “Crap!”

The truth hit Hugh like a bucket of cold water; he has slept the clock ‘round. It wasn’t six in the morning it’s six in the evening! The time in the corner of the screen clearly showed eighteen-thirty-three. Ignoring the boiling kettle Hugh made his way over to his phone and checked for messages.

“You have seventeen messages,” the computerized voice informed him.

He started to work through them holding the phone to his ear as he poured the boiled water over the coffee grounds. Slowly he let the phone slip from his fingers as realization dawned on him. He hadn’t simply slept the day away; he had slept the previous three days away! The sound of the phone hitting the floor brought him back to the present. With numbed hands he poured coffee into his mug and let his feet take him into his living room.

What the hell had happened to him? He asked himself, there was no way he could have slept three complete days away. The memory of the girl with the big round tits floated back into his mind.

“The bitch!” He muttered angrily.

She must have put something in his drink and drugged him. The next question that popped into his mind was, why? Getting up from the sofa Hugh hurriedly made his way back into his bedroom. Searching about on the floor he found his jacket, he checked the pockets. His wallet and credit cards were still there and nothing else seemed to be missing. Scratching his head in confusion he made his way back into his living room and sat down. He stared blankly at the TV as the local news ran a piece about a girl who had gone missing after going out with her work mates to celebrate her engagement. Vaguely Hugh realised that he knew the girl.

“Oh my god,” he shook his head in disbelief, “that’s Jenny from the office.”

The thought then struck him that he couldn’t adequately explain where he had been for the last three days; not even to himself. The police were bound to be ‘round sooner or later, in fact he was a little puzzled why they weren’t breaking down his door right now! Hugh watched the bulletin through to nearly seven when he realised how hungry he was. Not surprising, he rationalized, he’d spent three days asleep it was no wonder he felt a bit peckish. Looking in his fridge he saw there was nothing to eat there, he’d have to go out or call for a take-away.

“No I’ll go out,” he told himself as he made his way to the bathroom.


He switched on the taps and waited for the sink to fill so he could shave, he wiped the condensation from the mirror above the sink and looked at his reflection and screamed! Jumping away from the sink he slipped on the wet floor and crashed into the shower stall. Pulling himself back to his feet Hugh starred into the mirror again, again he wiped the moisture from the glass and again he saw absolutely nothing. Hugh looked at his trembling hands and waved them in front of the mirror, nothing.

“Come on now, Hugh,” gasping he stared at his non-existent reflection, “there’s got to be a logical explanation for this.” Hugh ran his fingers around the edge of the mirror; it was firmly attached to the wall. “This must be a trick,” he breathed desperately.

Eventually deciding that everything was some massive practical joke, Hugh climbed into the shower and let the hot water clean away the cobwebs of three days and nights spent in bed. Towelling himself dry, Hugh noticed how pale he seemed to have become, he made a mental note to make an appointment at his local health club and maybe spend a couple of hours on a sun bed and get some colour back into his skin.

By the time he had dressed, Hugh put off shaving until he had found out what was wrong with the mirrors, he was ravenously hungry anyway. He walked out into his hall and opened the door to the hall cupboard to get his jacket before heading out into the night. He screamed like a girl when the body of ‘Jenny from the office’ fell on top of him! Frantically Hugh tried to crawl away from the body of the young woman and push her off him without actually touching her.

“OHGODOHGODOHGOD!” Muttering this mantra he crouched in the corner and stared at the body of his young colleague.

His eyes took in the details in spite of himself; he saw her torn clothes that exposed her pale pallid skin, the bit marks on her neck and the blood stains on the collar of her blouse. Hugh couldn’t understand how she had got there. Frantically he tried to rationalise what had happened. Obviously, he thought, they all went out three nights before. Then for whatever reason he, Jenny and someone else must have come back to his flat. Then this mystery someone must have drugged him and killed Jenny.

“Who are you trying to kid?” Hugh sighed and let his head slump down onto his chest, “the Police are never going to believe that.”

It was only when Hugh tried to control his breathing and slow his racing heart that he noticed he wasn’t breathing and his heart wasn’t pounding as it should be! In fact now he thought about it he couldn’t find a pulse. Slowly the truth began to dawn on Hugh, it was obvious when he thought about it coldly, annalistically. He re-examined the evidence once more, he shook his head in a mixture of sadness and resignation.

“I’m dead too!” He finally cried out loud, “whoever killed Jenny musta killed me too…I’m a ghost!”

It all fit; the not breathing, the lack of a heart beat, not reflecting in mirrors. Hugh had always sort of half believed in ghosts, so now here he was doomed to walk the Earth as an insubstantial spirit until judgement day. There was, however, one little uncertainty to his theory; why did he feel so hungry?


After stuffing Jenny’s body back into the hall cupboard and putting on his jacket Hugh tried to walk through his front door and failed. Evidently there were some discrepancies in the stories about what ghosts were supposed to be able to do and what they could actually do. Opening the door, and remembering to pick up his keys Hugh ventured out into the night.


The air was cold and damp as he walked though the crowds of office workers who were making their way home. Hugh found that some of the bright shop window displays actually hurt his eyes and that the sound of the buses and cars that passed him in the street seemed louder than they normally did. He also noticed that he had acquired an unnatural interest in people’s necks, particularly the necks of the young women that walked by him on the damp evening streets. Once he found himself following a young woman along a side street, he had no recollection of how he had got there or why he was following a complete stranger.

Hugh quickly brought himself to a halt and looked around. He found himself on a minor street just off the Tottenham Court Road. He looked at a shop window half expecting to see a reflection of himself (some part of him still believed that this was all a big complex practical joke). He saw nothing, but it was obvious that people could see him as they stepped around him as he stood on the pavement.

Hugh started to reconsider his earlier conclusions. Maybe he wasn’t dead after all, in which case, maybe he was sick? It would fit all the symptoms, this hunger he felt could not be natural, it clawed at his stomach like a wild animal, but every time he had gone into a restaurant or snack bar he had immediately lost his appetite. Hugh saw that he wasn’t too far from ‘The Plaza’ shopping mall on Oxford Street, there was a 24 hour medical centre inside, in just a few minutes perhaps he could find out what was wrong with him.


Sitting in the waiting area of the clinic Hugh tried to shield his watering eyes from the bright lights in the ceiling. The receptionist had taken his name and address and a few personal details then told him to take a seat and someone would be out to see him momentarily. Hugh sat and watched the staff go about their business, he kept finding himself watching the female staff members closely, his gaze would always drift up to their necks and he would find himself licking his lips as his mouth watered.

“Mr Wright?” Hugh looked up with a start to see a pretty dark haired nurse smiling down at him, “Would you like to come with me?”

It was all Hugh could do to stop himself from leaping at the young woman and ripping out her throat! Taking a grip on himself he slowly stood up and followed the nurse to a small examination room.

“If you’d like to take a seat, Mr Wright,” the young woman closed the door behind her, “I’ll take a few more details if I may.”

Hugh looked around the brightly lit room; there was a desk and a couple of chairs; an examination table stood up against one wall. There were the usual cupboards and posters about Sexually Transmitted Diseases and no windows. The pretty nurse sat down behind the desk and picked up a clip board with a form attached to it.

“When you’re ready, Mr Wright,” she looked up at Hugh and the professional smile on her face faded as she saw Hugh’s face change and she started to scream.

For Hugh the world turned red as he lept across the desk and sank his teeth into the young woman’s neck.


Hugh awoke to find himself sitting cross-legged on the floor of the examination room; he still held the nurse in his arms, she was most definitely dead. There was a huge wound in the side of her neck that cut through the jugular. There was blood all over the front of her uniform, and her eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling, she had an expression of pure terror frozen on her pale dead face. Hugh could hear people banging on the door demanding to be let in but all that concerned Hugh now was that for the first time since he had woken up he didn’t feel hungry.

The pounding on the door increased in volume as Hugh got unsteadily to his feet. He marvelled at how strong and fit he felt how ‘connected’ he felt with everything around him. He looked down at himself to see the front of his shirt covered in flecks of blood. What had he done? This was sort of a rhetorical question to himself because it was fairly obvious what he had done. He had killed this poor woman and drunk her blood! He must be really sick… perhaps he had rabies or something.

The knocking and yelling at the door was getting really loud and annoying. Hugh reached out to the door handle and pulled the door open. A male nurse and Doctor more or less fell into the room. Seeing their colleague lying motionless on the floor they immediately tried to help her. It only took them a few seconds to realise they were too late.

“What happened here?” Demanded the man in the doctor’s coat.

Hugh looked on dispassionately and started to wonder why he was still standing here letting this ‘creature’ question him. Hugh shook his head to clear it of these weird and violent thoughts.

“I…” he began, “I don’t know!” He looked pleadingly at the doctor hoping he could explain, “one minute we were sitting talking, the next she’s dead and there’s blood all over the place!”

The doctor looked from Hugh to someone outside the door.

“Call the police…hurry!”

The police? Hugh thought for a moment, no, he couldn’t have that, he reached out and snapped the doctors neck with one hand.

“Fuck! I’m strong!” Hugh looked in wonder at his hand while the male nurse looked at him with terror filled eyes.

Suddenly Hugh felt very angry about everything, why were all these people staring at him, why was this nurse fellow trying to make him stay in the room? Hugh picked up the nurse and threw him into the corridor outside. He strode from the room, people screamed and scattered in front of him. This was great he thought, if this is what happened after you drank someone’s blood he wondered why he’d never done it before.

By now he had walked out of the medical centre and down a flight of stairs into the shopping mall. Several people followed him while keeping a safe distance, and warning other people to stay back. Which was good, because it meant Hugh could make his escape without having to push anyone out of the way. He’d got to the top of an escalator when he was confronted by two security guards.

They were both fairly young and fit looking, the sort of men the old Hugh wouldn’t have dreamed of arguing with. To the new Hugh they were just two nuisances that needed to be removed. He pushed one through a plate glass window and hurled the other over the railing and down onto the floor below.


Walking out onto Oxford Street Hugh sent shoppers and office worker scurrying in front of him. One part of his mind was saying; ‘this is wrong, stop, turn yourself in’. Another louder part was saying; ‘this is great, I’m strong and everyone fears me no one can stop me’! A police car screeched to a halt and two constables jumped from the car.

“That’s him!” Yelled a voice from behind Hugh, he turned to see the Receptionist from the Medical Centre.

Damn! He thought should have dealt with her and destroyed any records she had made. The other, smaller Hugh voice in his head wanted to know what he thought he was doing and shouldn’t he surrender to the police now before anything else happened. The two officers moved towards him taking position on either flank. They tried to talk him into coming peacefully, but, as Hugh ignored them and just kept walking they eventually stepped in to grab him. There was a crash of breaking glass as one policeman went through a window of a shop. Then there was a screech of breaks as his partner landed in front of a double-decker bus. Hugh ran off down a side street towards Soho, London’s red light district.


Finding himself in an ill lit alleyway where cold mist like rain settled on his skin and clothes but somehow he didn’t feel cold, or tired. He did feel confused, he had killed at least two people so far tonight, and he had thrown others through windows and under buses as if they were dolls. He rested his back against the wall and slid down until he was crouching on the floor with his hands over his head trying to work out what he should do.

What should he do?’ That should be obvious. He should march up to the first policeman he saw and demand to be arrested. He was dangerous, Hugh reasoned that he must be suffering from some mental illness as there were two different Hugh’s in his head. There was the Hugh who had always been there, and a new Hugh that wanted to smash and tear and kill and drink people’s blood! At the moment the peaceful Hugh was in charge, but he didn’t know how long for. He looked up as a police helicopter flew slowly over his head stabbing down with an incredibly bright search light. All around him he could hear police sirens moving in on him.

Hugh stood up, it would look better if he turned himself in rather than let the police catch him. He started to walk towards the light at the end of the alley. For a moment he was distracted by something moving just on the limits of his vision. He turned to look, a figure of a man dressed from head to toe in black and carrying a gun caught his attention.

“Great,” He whispered to himself, “Now they’ve called out the swat teams.” Hugh put his hands in the air, “Hey!” He called, “I want to surrender!”

Suddenly there was a soft explosion, more like a loud pop than a bang, behind him. In an instant he was enveloped in a cloud of sickly evil smelling smoke that burnt his skin and eyes. He started to cough and choke as the gas got into his throat and down into his lungs. In no more than a few seconds Hugh found himself lying on the ground as he brought up the blood he had ingested earlier. He could vaguely hear boots running towards him as several men surrounded him.

“Quick!” yelled one, “Shock him so we can get the cuffs on him.”

Hugh screamed as the electricity pulsed through his body.


“Mrs Fitzsimons?” Jack Davenport stepped forward and held out his hand to Britain’s head slayer. “I’m Jack Davenport,” he smiled as the two vampire hunters shook hands, “Chief Investigator for ‘The Department’.”

‘The Department’ was what people called the shadowy Government organisation that hunted the Code Five vampires in Britain and across the world. The Department was so secret that it didn’t have a proper name (how do you search for something that doesn’t have a name?). In Britain hunting and exterminating vampires (at least the Code Five’s) was the responsibility of the Health Department and the National Health Service, vampirism being looked on as a public health problem.

For years the British government and the old Watchers Council had co-operated in the fight against vampires in general. However, when a new bread of vampire, the Code Five’s, appeared in the early nineteen-hundreds the Watchers Council agreed that they would be the responsibility of the Government as slayers had problems dealing with this new type of vampire.

“Nice to meet you at last.” Mrs Fitzsimons studied the man in front of her, he was a bit short for a man, but he held himself well, there were little streaks of grey in his dark brown hair, he was totally forgettable if you saw him in the street; ex-copper, Mrs F thought to herself.

“This is one of my girls,” Mrs F gestured over her shoulder to the strikingly attractive dark haired young woman who stood silently behind her, “Steph, say hello to the nice gentleman.”

Steph stepped forward and took Davenport’s hand; she looked into his eyes with her own cold, blue, killer’s eyes and shook his hand squeezing just a little too tightly. This was her way of telling Davenport that if he tried any ‘funny business’ he’d have two slayers to deal with. The slayers might be working with the government on occasion; it didn’t mean they trusted them.

“Um, right,” Davenport flexed his hand to get the feeling back, “if you’d like to follow me please?”

He led the two slayers down a long white painted corridor in the Department’s headquarters situated underneath Whitehall. Doors led off the corridor and people in white lab coats or suits bustled about like they would in any normal office or lab.

“I called you,” explained Davenport as they turned into another corridor, “because I thought you might be interested.”

“You caught a vamp?” Mrs F wasn’t sure why she should be interested, “So dust it.”

“Well we were going to until we decided to interrogate it.” Davenport produced a swipe card from his pocket and put it through a reader.

There was a ‘Clunk-Click’ and a heavy metal door slowly opened in front of them.

“Very chatty for a Code One, so I thought you might want to speak to it.” Davenport led them into a small room while the outer door closed behind them.

Again he used his card and the next door slowly swung open for them. They walked into a room one wall of which was made up of what looked like reinforced glass; the other three were bare apart from the door and some coat hooks. Set back about a yard from the glass wall was a long control panel with four chairs placed at regular intervals behind it. The panel was covered in switches and sliders, three computer terminals, and right in the middle a large red button. The glass wall was completely black.

Davenport sat down in the chair nearest the red button.

“Take as seat please,” he invited, Mrs F and Steph sat down to his right.

Davenport adjusted a control and the glass in front of them cleared to show a bare concrete room; it had a heavy steel door in one corner. Sitting on a metal chair at a metal table sat Hugh Wright in a pair of orange coveralls.

“He can’t hear or see us yet,” Davenport switched a switch and Wright looked up at them, “now he can see us.”

While Mrs F and Steph studied the prisoner Davenport detailed Wright’s recent career and the Department’s suspicions. When he had finished he looked expectantly at Mrs F hopping for an explanation.

“And you’re sure its not a Code Five?” She asked getting up to take a closer look at the creature in the holding cell, “they’re tricky buggers if memory serves.”

“No doubt about it,” Davenport replied, “he’s one of yours…have you ever heard of anything like this happening before?”

“What, the demon not taking over fully?” Mrs F shook her head.

She was telling the truth she had never heard of anything like this happening before, but as she was basically making this slayer stuff up as she went along she wasn’t going to admit it to these government so’n’so’s.

“I’ve heard of Vampires with souls,” she turned to face Davenport, “I’ve even heard of vampires without souls who have learnt to control their bloodlust. But never anything like this…we’ll have to slay it of course.”

“But Mrs F…!” Steph broke her silence, “we can’t just kill him he’s still a man.”

“But for how much longer?” Silvia Fitzsimons shook her head sadly and pulled a stake from the small of her back, “I’ll do it.” she looked over a Davenport, “do you need him for anything?”

Davenport shook his head, “No he’s yours, I’ll have someone show you into the cell…you know we can kill it from here?” His hand hovered over the red button.

“No, it wouldn’t be right,” Mrs F looked from Wright to Davenport, “like Steph says there’s still a man in there, he deserves an explanation.”


Hugh looked up as the busty blonde woman he had seen through the glass entered the cell via the door. He started to stand up to demand to know what was going on and why he wasn’t in a secure hospital.

“Sit down.” The woman said in a voice that had to be obeyed, he sat.

Mrs F walked around the room until she stood in front of Hugh with the table between herself and the vampire.

“Do you know what I am?” She asked not unkindly.

“No,” Hugh looked around at the cell and the room beyond, “Are you part of this organisation? They’re not the police are they?”

“No,” Mrs F sighed and leant her hands on the table giving Hugh a good view down her ample cleavage, “I’m a slayer; that name mean anything to you?”

Hugh shook his head, but some dim memory did start to stir and he started to feel uncomfortable.

“Do you know what you are?” She asked as she sat down her breasts rising and falling with her every breath.

Hugh shook his head, mesmerised by the huge mammaries only a couple of feet from his face. He started to feel the bloodlust rise in him.

“You can feel it can’t you?” Mrs F jiggled her breasts teasingly in the man’s direction, “you want to bite and suck and kill don’t you?”

Hugh lunged at the woman as the world went red, he heard himself snarl as he flew through the air his hands held like claws his mouth wide ready to bit and drink. But as fast as he moved Silvia moved faster, she jumped back from Hugh cuffing him on the side of the head with her fist. Hugh was knocked aside in mid air and landed on the floor knocking the table and chair flying. Rolling to his feet he charged at the woman and her breasts.

This time Mrs F stepped aside at the last moment, grabbing hold of Hugh as he blundered by and smashed his head into the wall. Stunned Hugh sat on the floor shaking his head. For a moment his mind cleared and he saw the woman standing over him ready to pounce, he couldn’t believe how strong she was.

“Is Hugh Wright still in there?” Silvia asked.

“Yes,” Huge staggered to his feet, “yes of course I’m…” Suddenly it became so clear, in an instant he realised what he was, he starred at the woman speechlessly.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs F took the stake from the waist band of her jeans, “It’ll only get worse,” she explained quietly, “Until there’s no more Hugh only the demon…I-I don’t know what happened to make you like this.”

Hugh pleaded with her silently his eyes going round when he realised what she was going to do.

“Is there no cure?”



“I’m sorry.” Mrs Fitzsimons stepped forward and plunged her stake into Hugh’s heart.

For a moment Hugh held his form before crumbling into dust. She looked into the control room as she returned her stake to its hiding place.

“You know,” Silvia looked down at the pile of ash on the floor, “Sometimes I hate this slayer lark.”



From morning to night I stayed out of sight
Didn't recognize I'd become
No more than alive I'd barely survive
In a word...overrun

Won't hear a sound
From my mouth
I've spent too long
On the inside out
My skin is cold
To the human touch
This bleeding heart's
Not beating much

I murmured a vow of silence and now
I don't even hear when I think aloud
Extinguished by light I turn on the night
Wear its darkness with an empty smile

I'm creeping back to life
My nervous system all awry
I'm wearing the inside out

Look at him now
He's paler somehow
But he's coming round
He's starting to choke
It's been so long since he spoke
Well he can have the words right from my mouth

And with these words I can see
Clear through the clouds that covered me
Just give it time then speak my name
Now we can hear ourselves again

I'm holding out
For the day
When all the clouds
Have blown away
I'm with you now
Can speak your name
Now we can hear
Ourselves again

The End

You have reached the end of "From Morning to Night.". This story is complete.

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