Title: PI

Description: Nancy Duff, a vampire hunter starts a search along the tiny west coast town, Santa Carla. Feeling underwhelmed, she goes undercover as a Private Investigator to discover what really is behind all the disappearances in town. Just as suspected she comes across a gang of outsiders that look suspicious.

Rating : R for violence, sexual content, and crude humor

Disclaimer: I hold no ties to The Lost Boys. Warner Bros. has the crazy punks to deal with. The only thing I can call my own is the plot and my few characters I create such as Nancy and Christian.

Let's start this thing already...

Chapter One: You Get What You Give

Nancy Duff was your typical middle-aged woman. She didn't have any age lines on her face yet but her blue eyes held a past that she longed to forget. She was about nineteen when she first learned about vampires. The idea of a vampire to her was a cape-wearing, bad-Translyvanian-accent speaking, turn-into-a-bat kind. But no, an actual vampire was much worse. The first vampire she seen didn't wear a cape or anything black. He wore a pair of neon gym shorts, a white tank, and a pair of rugged adidas. He wasn't some dark stranger in the night either, he was Charlie, her close friend she met during her short period at college. He was a really nice guy and always offered himself to accompany her on her nightly jogs. After about fifty turn downs, she finally broke down and let the jock be her running buddy. In her mind, she should have known something was different about Charlie, he didn't attend classes during the day, he had a pallor about him, and he was strangely alluring compared to most men on campus. Nancy thought perhaps his sharp features with his feathered brown locks and baby blue eyes were inherited from his father. She didn't know that vampires inherited their looks when they transformed, or what many called coming into the darkness. He had kept smiling at her as if he was hiding something from her, she thought it as a friendly gesture when keeping pace. When they slowed to catch a breathe, he stood behind her instead to her side. He had leaned into her letting his breathe fall on her neck. At that point, Nancy thought he was going to try and rape her. It was a common thought and seemed logical as Charlie seemed to want something out of her, just not sex.

But that was a long time ago, Nancy thought to herself. Digging into the past only digresses from the present. It's time to get back on track. Today, she had taken a long drive from her apartment back in Los Angeles to Santa Carla, a small town on the coast. The town was smaller than most located on the coast but it had a large population throbbing its shores. Nancy managed to pull a few sources about the town. The town thrived on the boardwalk that stretched a good few miles across the shores of the beach. Senior citizens and blue-collar families were the main attraction to the town. Santa Carla boasted it's boardwalk and it apparently paid off in the end. Santa Carla seemed to boast an increasing disappearance rate too. The missing persons ads had increased by 76 percent since 1982 making a small margin of 5 people going missing per week. Nancy let the missing persons ads help her cut a break in her new case.

Vivian Wood was a mother of three and a stay-at-home mom. Her eldest daughter, Molly, went missing just last week. As far as Nancy could make out, Mrs. Wood was very frantic and upset about it. When she first showed up at her door, Nancy had a good amount of cedar slammed in her face. But that didn't stop her, Nancy was as stubborn as they came and had knocked a second time hoping the woman would come back to the window at least. With great luck, she saw the sagging face and running mascara through the curtains. The second go, Nancy said that she wanted to catch whoever did get her daughter and make them pay, something she failed to mention before. Revenge was sweet and got the mother to open the door willingly this time.

The house was a mess, Vivian must of really been in shambles over her daughter. Two identical boys sat in front of a television set watching Rocky and Bullwinkle, their heads barely turning when she looked down at them. Nancy went on to find out that it was Billy and Sammy, seven-year old twins. Mrs. Wood led them to the kitchen and offered Nancy a seat at the table which she accepted. Vivian sat across from her wiping down the table with a wet rag before leaning forward on it. Nancy set her bag on a cleared spot and pulled out a notepad from it. It only seemed right to take notes despite the fact most of what Mrs. Wood would say would go right into her head and not on a pad. Might make for good reference later. Mrs. Wood did not have much to share other than when her daughter had left the house and when she had found out her daughter had really gone missing. Trying to share sympathy, Nancy only asked a few personal questions about Molly. Mrs. Wood described her daughter as an honor student who loved to participate in her school's drama club and hang out with her friends on the weekends. Don't all parents try and chalk up their child as if they were the saint of Christ. Mrs. Wood had been kind enough to give a few friends' names and addresses for Nancy to look up in her own time. With that, Nancy left the house feeling a little relieved that she had something to go on.

The apartment she rented looked lonely. It was shabby with faded gray walls that must have been white at sometime. The wooden floors were dated and creaked all the time even while Nancy laid in bed. It was three rooms; a bathroom, a bedroom, and a kitchen/living room. It was nice for one person but she couldn't imagine a family of four squeezing into it. She shrugged her jacket off before setting the bag she had been carrying the last four hours beside it. Sometimes these simple days seemed to last forever. The only part of the day she was looking forward to was the night when she could hunt freely without being spotted. It was about seven minutes after two, leaving a good five or six hours until sunset. A nap would be a good time filler, she thought as she yawned silently. Taking her own thought to truth, she kicked her tennis shoes off and plopped her rigid body on the spongy bed. Hmmm...maybe I won't go out tonight, she smiled to herself as her body went limp.

- - - - -

Nancy woke to the sound of a shrill ringing. Wrapping the covers around her ears, the ringing didn't subside. Opening her eyes slowly, she realized the phone was the ringing. Oh, five more minutes, please. She deserved it, having to put up with enough bullshit today. She lifted her head off the mattress and pulled the receiver off the hook. This better be damn important.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded dry and tired.

"Have a nice nap?" A strong British male voice came through. Chris, Chris was calling her. He better have some info for me or he'll have hell to pay when I get back to LA.

Christian Marcs was the same age as herself, a ripe age of thirty-one. He was an average male, he was a small guy with a big ego. His looks were simple, dirty blonde hair that laid to his chin and a set of hazel eyes that hid behind black wire-framed glasses. Nancy never understood why he wore those glasses all the time, they were only for reading. One of the many quirks of Chris. His quirks managed to put a smile on her face. Chris was the one and only man in her life and that only happened on bad luck.

"If you consider ringing in your ears a comfort." Nancy untangled her legs from the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. "You better have something good to tell me."

"I was wondering if you got in okay." She could hear the corners of his mouth curl up. She couldn't help but embellish a sigh over the receiver.

"I got in fine." Nancy checked the clock on the VCR under the television. It was 6:27 pm. "You should only call when you've picked up some information on Santa Carla or about the missing persons. I don't have time for your mind games."

"Mind games? Whatever are you talking about?" He was trying to pull that innonence routine with her. It didn't work anytime before and it wouldn't work this time.

"You cannot forget your promises to me." Nancy lectured, pulling herself off the bed, stretching her legs. "Never mix business with pleasure."

"I'm not mixing anything." He was probably biting his own tongue out of his mouth now. "The only thing I'm feeling right now is concern for my dear partner in crime, Nancy."

"I don't commit crimes, I kill the undead." Nancy corrected him.

Chris had some weird feelings of love or something for her. She wasn't the emotional type and she couldn't get involved with others romantically with the job she had. Slaying vampires was a socially detracting job and becoming attached was something she learned a long time ago was a huge no-no. No nookie equals great hunting and slaying capabilities. Besides, Chris wasn't her type of guy, if she really knew what type she liked. She hadn't gone on a date in over twelve years, unless you consider the times she went out with Chris to Blue Moon, a little Japanese restaurant, for late dinners after long days of work. I'll probably be alone the rest of my life and have a dozen cats living with me. My dream life.

"If I get anything new, I'll let you know." Chris decided to switch back to work mode. "It's a bit desolate here at the office. I hope you'll be back soon."

"You sound like a wimpering puppy dog." Nancy smiled as she pulled a pair of jeans up over her panties. "You should go with it, the ladies will be all over you."

"The accent attracts plenty of flesh for fantasy." He had to be smirking. Quirky, British bastard.

"Stratch all use of Billy Idol titles and/or lyrics." Nancy pushed her feet into her tennis shoes. "Pop culture references are overrated. Just stick with the accent."

"Well, then, I hope you'll come back very soon." He had purred into the receiver trying to give his accent as much sexual innueudo as possible.

"I gotta go." Nancy checked the VCR a second time. It was 6:58 pm.

Before waiting for a reply, she slammed the receiver down on the hook. Sorry, Chris, duty calls. She took a seat on the bed and grabbed a hair tie from the side table bunching her curly brown hair into a messy bun. It would have to do, she only has so many limited hours and most of it didn't go toward the beautification of herself. She pulled a canvas bag from under the belly of the bed and set it on top of the mattress. It held your standard vampire slaying materials: holy water, crosses, hellfire, stakes, and mallets. One of these days, she was going to have to get herself one of those crossbows. She grabbed a stake and a vile of Holy water before tucking the bag back under the bed. She stood up a second time, stretching again, hearing her bones crack softly. Even though it was not good for her back, she loved the crunching sound of the bones. Has to be the sadistic side of me. She found her brown leather jacket where she left it, safely on the sidetable by the front door. She tucked the stake and holy water into a secret pocket she sewed herself, and slipped it around her bare shoulders. She took a long, drawn breathe before opening the door to the apartment.

There was something about hunting that made her bones ache. The excitement that she may find a vampire and the disappointment she would feel if she came up empty-handed. She could feel the blood rushing up and down her legs and arms,

tingling in her toes and fingers. It reminded her of the pleasure she succumbed to during sex and right before she indulged into a container of chocolate ice cream. It felt best in this form, giving her a internal advantage against any nightwalker.

- - - - -

The first half hour was uneventful, she searched the crowd for suspicious looking people. People that stuck out among the polo-wearing and bike-shorts-toting yuppies. Nothing, she was even getting bored from circling the boardwalk. If something doesn't pop up, I'll turn in early. Answering her prayers and pleas, she heard a girl shouting.

"Give them those back, you asshole!" The girl was about 5'3 and hardly a match to the six-footish predator. "Give me my comics, you dipshit, I paid for those!"

She did have one hell of a mouth, I could give her that much. The man standing over the young teenager was clad in ripped jeans, a dirty polo, and a leather vest. His hair screamed Flock of Seagulls as it stood up as if he stuck his finger in a light socket. He ripped the comics from the girl's hand and shoved her on the ground. A second later, two boys appeared from behind the girl, giving a hard glare at the man that overshadowed them by many feet. Maybe I'll wait and see what happens... Nancy held back any need to charge to the girl's rescue.

"Hey, man, what do you think you're doing?" This boy had longer hair than his counterpart and had a bandana tied around his forehead, letting his tousled brown hair flop over. His eyes remained hard, not flinching in the great brute's presence.

The large man laughed before throwing the comics at the girl on the ground.

"What's it to you, Frogman?" The brute poked a finger at the boy's chest. The other boy helped the girl up as she gathered her comics off the ground.

"You shouldn't pick on customers, especially while you are on our property." The quieter boy said letting go his grasp of the girl. He had shorter and darker hair than his friend and softer features.

"I don't see your name on it!" The man teased.

"I don't see Property of Dipshit on any of these!" The girl said waving her comics in the air. The man turned and grunted sourly. He raised his hand and formed it into a fist.

Quite a mouth to lead to certain death. Before she knew it, Nancy was right there with a firm grip of the man's fist. He was stronger but she was able to move fast enough around him. She launched him, twisting his arm fully around and letting his rotten flesh hit the cement hard with a crack. He was out cold. You get what you give. The girl, wide-eyed, took off down the boardwalk, not looking back.

"I'm sure we could have handled the situation, Wonder Woman." The Rambo look-a-like stepped forward nudging the knocked out man at the thigh.

"Does handling the situation usually mean getting a black eye?" Nancy turned her eyes on him giving him a second glance. He was shrouded in army fatigues. A pair of camoflauge pants and a brown t-shirt with a cut-off forest green vest. The boy narrowed his eyes at her before holding out a hand.

"Edgar Frog," He grunted.

Nancy hestitated a moment and dropped her hand in his, his hand firmly shook hers. He had a strong grip, maybe he could take on a huge guy like the leather face. She dropped her hand and saw a second hand in front of her face. This one belonging to the less cheeky of the two.

"This is my brother, Alan." Edgar dropped a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We are the Frog Brothers."

He made it sound like they were wide known around the world. Perhaps they were a circus act. Come see the amazing Frog Brothers get bushwhacked by a brute three times the size of them! The inner thought made her snicker. Of all the things she had seen so far in her life, she hardly seen two young boys stand up quite like they did. They had balls and she had to give them credit for that.

"Nancy Duff, Private Investigator." It rolled off her tongue with ease. She was getting used to the title, she had been going by it for months.

"A PI?" Edgar held some shock in his voice. He looked like he was contemplating whether he would share anything else with her. Whenever she said that, the same look always ran over the person's face.

"What are you doing in Santa Carla?" Alan said picking up some of the knocked over comics. She leaned down and helped him.

"Investigating." She'd let the boys' minds wonder what they will.

She stood up and looked down at the cover art to the comic book lying on top of the pile. 'Vampires Everywhere' it bolded stated. It had a man wearing a blood red cape and holding a woman clutched in his arms, hanging limply with two red dots, dripping blood down her throat.

"I thought comic books were about superheroes." Nancy held the book up to the boys. "You know, like Superman and Spiderman?"

Alan grabbed the stack she held and shoved them back into their cardboard box. Edgar just shook his head and turned back into the store they had stepped out of minutes earlier. She wasn't leaving without an answer, her stubborness getting the best of her.

"What's with the sudden mute attitudes?" She followed the boys into the rows of comics. Edgar turned around.

"Comics come in all shapes and forms, and don't always center around the good guys." There was a serious tone in his voice that scared her. "Vampires are one of the many unholy creations of god that are portrayed in comic books."

Unholy creations? Who ever uses that term for a vampire? Edgar seems to have read one too many vampire comics. It was time for some investigation and it would start here with these boys. There is something behind what they are saying, they just don't want to to tell me. She'd make them fess up, it was her job after all.

"Is there something you'd like to share with me?" Nancy put her hands in the air questionally. "'Cuz, I feel like I'm a few cards short of a deck here."

"Just because your are a Private Investigator, you really think you know what's up in this town." Edgar tried putting as much attitude in that statement. Intimidation was one way to frighten the enemy. Too bad she wasn't the enemy.

"It would help if you could enlighten me. Santa Carla seems to accumlate the highest death and missing persons rate out of any town or city in the country." Nancy let her hand settle along the edge of the display case.

"Even if we told you, you wouldn't believe us." Alan leaned forward. Edgar pushed Alan back away from her and let his hard gaze fall on her.

"We don't have to tell you anything." Edgar spat at her.

"Oh, now there is something to tell me?" Nancy let her bitchy side take over.

"If we tell you, you gotta promise not to laugh or go to the authorities." Alan pointed a comic book accusingly at her.

"Scout's honor." She held her hand up. "Let's hear it."

"Vampires aren't a fairy tale story to get your kids to bed." Edgar started.

"They are real, bone and flesh, and they are right here in Santa Carla." Alan finished for his brother.

Now they were getting somewhere.

- - - - -

First chapter, how'd I do? I feel pretty excited about this one. More over than Shadows in the Night. I feel like this one has more potential and substance. Don't get me wrong, I love SITN, it's just been hard to continue. I'm already working on a second and third chapter for this one. Hopefully, this baby will come to fruition, if I'm lucky. Don't forget to leave reviews!

-nocturnal