Every Saturday when the sun goes down, a coven of Goths don their best velvet capes and corsets, pop in their fake fangs and hit London’s local clubs in search of thrills. Holly (Morven Macbeth) has been chronicling the lives of this “weekend vampire” subculture for a documentary when, one evening, she notices a striking young woman across the dance floor. Her name is Vicki (Anna Walton), and though she looks like every other pretty pale thing, there’s something…different about her.

Holly’s curiosity about this comely creature of the night soon turns to carnal desire, and the two soon become joined at the hip. Then the group’s members start mysteriously disappearing, and it becomes apparent that Holly’s lover isn’t some dress-up daughter of darkness: Vicki is a bona fide bloodsucker. Now that the filmmaker has finally found the girl of her dreams, however, she’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe — even if that means rounding up some regular fixes of Type O the hard way.

Shot as a series of video diaries, Mark James’ and Phil O’Shea’s film turns Holly’s trip through a seductive netherworld into a grainy journal of erotic excitement and teeth-chattering horror — think The Blair Witch Project spiced up with smoking-hot Sapphic sexual awakenings and a few unexpected narrative curves thrown in for good measure. The squeamish should beware; like its sultry heroine, this movie isn’t afraid to occasionally go for the jugular. — DAVID FEAR