A Hotel Transylvania Holiday Love Story

A fan fiction by Cosmic Inspiration

Disclaimer: The Hotel Transylvania franchise is the property of Sony Pictures Animation. This author makes no profit from these stories and only writes for fun and love of the movies. All original characters are the property of the fanfic author Cosmic Inspiration.

Prologue 1

Through the sparse wispy Cirrus type clouds in the fair blue sky, the bright luminous Sun slowly descended low over the horizon to stretch shadows long and cool in the historic and now lively European city of Bucharest, capital and cultural center of beautiful and historic Romania.

The city was a strange contradiction to itself, and yet that is what made it balance out well and lent to its own charm. Old European structures such as old Gothic churches, and later buildings of Neo-Classical and art deco styles such as the Palace of Parliament, the Romanian Athenaeum, and the Palace of Justice coexisted beside more modern yet somewhat drabber and less impressive architecture, most being from the days of Communist rule of much of Eastern Europe. Mixed among them were also more contemporary architecture such as Unirea Shopping Center and the Skytower that was part of the Floreasca City Center, all drawing tourists of every kind from around the world.

With a new place came not just new sights, but new experiences for the out of town traveler looking to sample the atmosphere and local cuisine, or experience the excitement of events and local celebrations. Or when there were no celebrations, the city still offered plenty of entertainment with local street performers or vendors selling their homemade goods, and shops with plenty of novelties and tacky souvenirs.

One such tourist had experienced the city in most of these typical ways, but she had little interest in shopping for the souvenirs, but more in just being in the moment and finding the hidden gems and lesser known tour destinations of any place she had visited.

For now she took some time to relax and enjoyed the view of the city street as people passed by the local coffee shop and she contemplated her next destination.

Some of her thoughts mused on places she had been during her months long travels through Europe, going places she had always dreamed of going and of places she never thought she would ever go to or ever thought she would even enjoy but now held a special place in her memories.

She had gone to places she dreamed of going, such as Ireland and much of the United Kingdom, parts of France, including Paris, Spain, and even Rome, Italy and parts of Greece. She had also visited parts of Germany, Austria, Poland, and now she had made her way further into Eastern Europe to Romania, and maybe she will eventually visit parts of Russia and the Ukraine.

For a short while she thought of the last place she had visited before coming to Bucharest, the old ruins of a castle with a tragic fairy tale story to it. Castle ruins throughout Europe or any part of the world were nothing new, but for a strange reason these ruins had enchanted her somehow, as though it were déjà vu.

The story of Castle Lubov had touched something in her she could not describe, a feeling of true love calling out to her to be set free as though trapped for so many long years; and at the same time she felt a lingering grieving loneliness. As she toured the castle and its once palatial rooms, she felt as though she could picture what they had once been like back in the day, like faint precious memories trying to surface from a near forgotten time of childhood. But then tragedy struck, a mysterious fire somehow sparked in the night and nearly destroyed the peaceful and happy home of the loving couple within, sealing them a fiery doom as though fate were against the deep connection shared by the Lady Lubov and her mysterious consort.

Although she considered herself an open minded skeptic, she wondered how much truth there was to such an enchanting and tragic story, for she also got this feeling towards the end of the tour of a lingering grief and bitter anger, as though there was also some kind of curse upon the ruins.

Not that she believed in any way or form in curses.

The only disappointment she experienced from the tour was not getting to see the legendary burned portrait of the noble woman. She had learned that the remains of the portrait of the late Lady Lubov, which had been preserved and hung in the castle for several decades, had been removed for preservation cleaning due to gathering dust and mold, but also were now going to be put in a Romanian national museum for more people to see.

Though she supported such an action as she had formerly worked for a museum herself, she still felt a bit robbed for not being able to see the picture herself before its removal for she had a bit of a morbid curiosity of what the Lady had looked like.

It was strange, as she was feeling some sort of connection to the mysterious noble woman, like she was a distant relative. But that was impossible for her as her American family is said to have had previous ancestors migrating from Scotland and Ireland.

For now she just dismissed it as a charmed feeling from her long travels through the European continent, as she had experienced almost similar feelings in other castle ruins. Yet she knew this was somehow a bit different, as if in some way it was a forgotten chapter of her own lonely life.

A loneliness she tried not to linger on for too long, as it only reminded her of her pain and the burden of her terrible and embarrassing secret.

Elona Parker, an attractive woman in her early thirties with back length silky brown hair, and a healthy lithe muscular dancer's figure took the last gulps of her cooling coffee as she looked at her smart watch and left a moderate tip for the local coffee shop. She gathered her luggage, a matching carryon bag and rolling suitcase, and made her way to the local bus station to catch her ride to her next destination, a place she was strangely looking forward to visiting as it sounded quite eccentric, yet somehow fit in well with Romania's best known allure, folklore in the supernatural. But in particular, Vampires.

The place she was headed to was said to be a now booming and popular exclusive monster themed hotel which opened its doors to the public only a few years ago, and became most popular during Halloween and a local small town's annual Monster Festival.

The story behind this tourist destination was that it was build more than a hundred years ago by the infamous Count Dracula himself as a safe haven for monsters and assorted supernatural creatures to come to for their own getaway time, because even monsters needed a vacation every now and then. And then only a few years ago, Count Dracula needed help to get to the local airport in broad day light to bring a new human friend to his hotel because this same human now had a kind of Romeo and Juliet thing going on with Dracula's daughter.

It was an adorable story, and she always enjoyed a good story to go with her unusual experiences. It just somehow made the trips all the more memorable and people tried to find ways of doing the unusual and eccentric, even if just to draw curious tourists.

There's really no real harm to it, just playful and innocent fun and people always loved a good story and experiencing the unusual and outright weird.

Elona boarded the bus for the next Transylvanian town, where she would take a taxi to the hidden castle and her next destination, the appropriately named Hotel Transylvania.

Prologue 2

This was beyond humiliating.

It was outright undignified. No, it was beyond that too, he was on the very cusp of losing all of his dignity and self respect.

He belonged elsewhere, not in this repulsive festering pool of filth and bile to while away his days in the lowest of occupations.

Somehow, someday soon, he will win back his dignity and better yet become head chef again and the hotel's new manager, and show his fool of a boss who is the better monster.

Thoughts of revenge and payback had been all that had sustained Quasimodo Wilson, former chef extraordinaire of Hotel Transylvania.

He remembered fondly and nostalgically of the days he created the best and most delectable dishes he catered for the hotel's distinguished monster guests and created lavish feasts for his boss's extravagant celebrations, such as his daughter's birthday.

Even if he occasionally mistakenly made a wrong dish or appetizer than what his boss requested, he was still the best chef for the hotel and he knew everything would fall apart without him, even with his boss's over controlling nature for perfection.

Quasimodo knew he was an essential part, if not the very backbone for the hotel guests most basic and pleasurable needs, and he always showed his passion and drive to go above and beyond what was expected of him as a loyal hotel employee.

And best yet, he had the creative mind and was driven to create new and never before done recipes to keep the culinary arts fresh and new at the old hotel, the one exception to change his boss was open to.

But now, because of his boss's own foolishness and weird circumstances beyond his control he had been reduced to cleaning and plunging hotel toilets and working in sewage, with the zombie janitor Mr. Ghouligan as his supervisor.

It all started with a human somehow coming to the well hidden and isolated hotel, his wonderful and faithful little Esmeralda having suspiciously smelled one when he showed his boss one of his dishes for his daughter's birthday party. On occasion his little beloved rat friend sniffed out that same human, who for some reason his boss chose to hide instead of destroying to keep the hotel, and its guests, safe as it was always meant to do.

So Quasimodo got the idea to do his boss a favor and destroy the human himself, but it was an even better idea to make it into a delicious dinner for his boss and the hotel guests, because after all Quasimodo prided himself as a passionate gourmet chef first and foremost.

It made him enthusiastic and excited the more he thought about what dish to make the human into, and his passion exploded when he decided on Human Potpie, something that he had never done before and no doubt would have greatly pleased the guests once they tasted his finished recipe.

But his boss continued to stubbornly and foolishly protect the human boy, trying to claim he wasn't a human but a Stein. Yet, his failure to frighten his precious and brave Esmeralda proved Quasimodo right and he tried to angrily bring it to the attention of the hotel staff and guests, but his boss magically paralyzed him.

Quasimodo was left with no other choice than to expose the human and his boss's betrayal at the birthday party, even if shown to be embarrassingly and unwillingly 'picking his nose' due to his frozen state.

Just as he expected to happen, panic ensued and after the human boy was exposed no one was willing to trust Quasimodo's boss with the protected sanctuary of the hotel again. Some guests even checked out immediately after the shocking revelation.

But his victory was bitter sweetly short lived.

It was only after the next night he learned his boss's daughter and the human boy had 'zinged' and it didn't matter to her that a boy she liked was the bitter hateful enemy of monster kind. Part of Quasimodo actually applauded and in a weird way admired this, as he is also French and even French monsters are romantics at heart.

However he wasn't the one who had lied, who had something to hide and betrayed the trust of the hotel guests; but he was still the one who got the short end of the gnarled stick.

Not long after the end of his boss's daughter's birthday celebration, Quasimodo was left to remain petrified for what seemed like the longest time, never sure if it was days or weeks but it certainly felt like years.

It turned out only after a few months, his boss finally released him from the paralyzing spell before the human boy and his daughter were to marry, but only to tell Quasimodo his services were not longer required as the head chef of Hotel Transylvania, and he wanted the hunchback out of his hotel and out of his land immediately.

Quasimodo was so shocked and angered at this sudden dismissal he could only throw a fit and shout obscenities in old French, but he calmed down enough eventually to beg his boss to let him stay at the hotel because he had nowhere else to go, not even his ancestral homeland of modern day France would accept him.

The whole time his boss just remained indifferent to Quasimodo's begging and ranting, staring at the diminutive former cook from his own imposing height with his cold piercing sapphire blue eyes and a frown which further accentuated his long and sharp facial features.

Finally, with what might have been a look of thought and consideration for the longest time, his boss said he was not without a heart or sympathy for his fellow monsters, after all that's what the hotel was originally meant for.

But he would keep Quasimodo on not as head chef, but as a hotel plumber.

Quasimodo was outraged by this, grudgingly demanding to know who would now be the lead cook of the hotel, his boss simply saying the job now fell to the gargoyle waiters as he believed them more than capable. But Quasimodo knew it was only an excuse and place holder, as the gargoyles formerly under his supervision were complacent without the right guidance, making them outright stupid, which is why they needed a firm hand.

Why his boss would now trust them with an honor and responsibility was perplexing to Quasimodo, to which his boss only said he wasn't going to take any chances with Quasimodo as head chef anymore if the hunchback was going to threaten Johnny's life and in turn his daughter's happiness.

Quasimodo's boss then further warned him in a strangely bleak and ominous way if the hunchback ever did threaten anybody close to him again, his boss would personally see the end of him, and even threaten to eat his precious Esmeralda.

The hunchback was left with no other choice then to accept his boss's terms and the fate laid out before him.

And so ever since, for the longest years, he did not know how many as he lost count after the first year, Quasimodo Wilson has had to while away his days in menial labor in an occupation that was the lowest of the low.

But maybe the worst part of it was that the hotel now allowed humans as guests, and in turn their own repugnant waste.

It meant the integrity and true purpose of the hotel had been tarnished and forgotten, which meant his boss was an even bigger fool than Quasimodo first believed.

Aside from thoughts of revenge against his boss and regaining his dignity, what also drove Quasimodo these days was rising to the top as the new and even superior hotel manager as well as head chef again. How he craved such prestige and respect as days and years passed the longer he remained in such a putrid job occupation.

He knew one day he would get his chance, but nowadays he began to doubt it would ever really come.

Now as he finally finished cleaning the bathroom and kitchenette of a vacant hotel guest room, he closed the polished wooden door just as he heard the sounds of some kind of ruckus coming down the long hallway before he even saw it, quickly recognizing it as the uncontrolled and undisciplined pack of werewolf pups who constantly made chaotic messes and left a path of havoc behind in their continuous play fighting.

Quasimodo noticed they seemed to be chasing something which flew and flittered about them as it tried to escape the rabble of pups, something small and almost bat like, but he couldn't make out what it was as he had to take shelter behind the janitorial cart he currently used.

The mini hurricane of pups was upon him as they continued to try and catch their fleeting prey, or attack and nip or mock maul each other, and all he could remember was how it was so sudden but it was enough to make Quasimodo freeze behind his makeshift and minimal shield with his eyes shut tightly and arms over his round head for little protection. Fur flew like a light snow and there were the high pitches of puppy yelps and play growls as the werewolf kids fought each other to nearly destroy the janitorial cart and its contents.

Finally, the young wolves' destructive hurricane of playmaking passed to leave behind a haze of dust and shed flying puppy fur to allow Quasimodo to slowly emerge from behind the cart and shout at the pack of wolf pups in angry archaic French with an anger punching fist in the air.

"You little brats," he yelled at fleeting youngsters as he switched back to English (or maybe translated Romanian here), "Watch where you're going, and take your delinquent fighting elsewhere!"

He mumble obscenities in some more archaic French as he set to cleaning and gathering up the equipment and rubbish that had been spilled and knockout by the storm of werewolf pups.

He then heard a faint but strange voice say, "Finally, I thought never lose those irritating little brats."

Quasimodo looked around in confusion for a moment to see where the voice was coming from, for a moment thinking he might have imagined it.

He then spotted a strange little bat like creature emerge from the trash bin to brush itself off, Esmeralda squeaking her angered annoyance at the little creature at disturbing her nap in her personal sanctuary of the trash can.

Though the creature was the same size as the rat, it gave off an amazing snarling roar at Esmeralda for its size, scaring her so badly she squeaked in fear and ran to hide in one of Quasimodo's janitor shirt pockets.

"'Ey," Quasi yelled, "Why did you go and scare Esmeralda for?" He tried to reassure and calm her down as he felt her shaking in his pocket and he petted her affectionately as he said soothingly,

"It's okay, my sweet, it'll be okay."

He then looked back at the little bat creature and demanded, "What in the name of Notre Dame are you?"

"The name's Bela," the creature said with a rather high pitched but snarling voice as he continued to brush himself off, "And I was once the leader of a crew of vicious Bat Demons that loyally served the Vampire, Vlad. But that phony old coot betrayed me and shrank me down to this size, making me into a chew toy for those rampaging little were runts. I admire their need for fun chaos and destruction, but its gets old very fast when I'm in the middle of it."

"Vlad?" Quasimodo said with a raised eyebrow.

"The old man of that soft hearted fool, Dracula, who's supposed to run this pathetic human hugging hotel."

A smile of malice came to Quasimodo's face, making him look even more sinister as he heard this.

"Wi, I think I remember hearing rumors of Monsieur Dracula's father arriving at ze hotel recently. And he betrayed you, eh? I, too, have been betrayed by Monsieur Dracula. I was once ze finest and head gourmet chef at Hotel Transylvania, but after I tried to make a human into a delectable dinner for ze 'otel guests, he demoted me to zees miserable plumbing job," he growled.

"Humans," Bela growled, "Weak, miserable creatures, nothing but sacks of putty, only good for stealing their delicate but sustaining souls."

"Perhaps," Quasi said, if a bit sickened by the small creature's view of humans, "And zey ever only persecuted us and wanted to destroy good decent monsters with zeir hate. Zat's why ze hotel was created, as a safe sanctuary for all of monster kind. Now, Monsieur Dracula has foolishly allowed zem into ze hotel, and it sickens me how it has all gone down hill."

"As I told that weak little human boy and his little pet, humans don't belong with monsters. I thought Vlad understood that because he was always so about tradition," Bela snarled, "Now he's turned his back on the ancient ways and has grown weak like his son and the rest of his pathetic family."

"I fully agree," Quasimodo smirked, "Humans do not belong here and must be purged from ze hotel. If you 'elp me do zat, I will 'elp you get back at Vlad, and even find a way to restore your real size."

Bela seemed unsure at first, but the more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. If it meant a chance at chaos and revenge and it meant however he can get it, then he was in.

"Stick with me," Quasimodo smirked in overconfidence as he allowed Bela to perch on his shoulder, "With my cleverness and your thirst for chaos and brute strength, we should make an interesting team. Monsieur Dracula and Monsieur Vlad won't know what's coming."

They both gave low malicious laughs at their new forged alliance.

Esmeralda, however, still hiding in Quasimodo's shirt pocket, was not so sure.