Author's Note: Good evening. Before we begin, Mr. Steel feels it would be unkind to present this story without just a bit of friendly warning. The tale you are about to read is a shocking, bone-chilling and nightmare-inducing tale of pure, unimaginable horror the likes of which have not been seen since Mary Shelly's own Frankenstein. The tale recounts the horrific and terrifying acts of chilling terror committed by the most nefarious and contemptible of all monsters, the vampire!
It is a tale of monsters, witch burnings, Japanese motorcycle gangs and... oh, who are we trying to kid? If you're here you probably know what Mina and the Count is, you also probably know it's not at all like the previous description. No, this story won't leave you up at night. It isn't going to shock or horrify you, and the monsters in it are anything but horrifying. Hopefully it'll make you laugh, though it may incite some other emotions. Our only hope is that the only thing you don't feel is boredom. Without further adu, enjoy.
"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."
- Stephen King.
Once upon a time, there lived a vicious vampire lord, known as "The Count." The Count lived in a dark, foreboding castle on the hill overlooking the town. For over 700 years, he had stalked the night and prayed on young women. A fearsome creature spoken of only in hushed whispers, he was feared by all. All but one, that is.
One night, while searching for a woman to prey on, he had mistakenly approached a little girl. Her name was Mina. Strangely enough, the vampire discovered that his heart was far too big to do her harm, so he attempted to leave. But the little girl had grown affectionate towards him, and would not let him leave. So the vampire begrudgedly befriended the little girl. Over time, however, the vampire's heart grew. He had discovered that he truly loved the little girl.
Time passed by, and with each passing day, the vampire and the little girl grew closer and closer. They had become best friends. Despite the near constant objections of his assistant, Igor, Mina and the Count had become inseparable. Unfortunately, these good times would not last forever. The little girl would become older. Her interest in dolls and games would begin to wane. She would become interested in boys and fitting in. The whole idea of a vampire friend grew less and less appealing to her.
One cold, unfortunate winter's night, after the girl had reached the age of 12, the vampire approached Mina's window late at night to play. But Mina was wrapped up in her homework, and had no desire for games. The Count continued to insist on playing, annoying Mina. Finally, Mina became angry at the Count. She had told him she no longer wanted a vampire friend, that she no longer liked him. With a heavy heart, the vampire left her home, and never returned since.
Our story begins at The Count's manor, a good five years since that night.
The Count stared longingly into the fireplace as he slouched down in the antique recliner he had spent his nights brooding for half a decade. Like every night, he sat there sulking, stroking the stitched up doll she used to play with all the time. He and the doll were kindred spirits. Both abandoned by a little girl who had grown too old to play with them.
The massive doors to Dracula's castle swung open. They made a thunderous and ominous sound all throughout the manor. A sound that the Count had long since grown benumbed to. It was his faithful assistant, Igor, limping his way into the manor's entrance hall. A plastic bag hung clumsily over the bend of his arm.
"Master? ...master?" Igor's voice echoed through the halls of the antique keep. "Where are you, master?"
Dracula groaned to himself.
"I'm in the lounge by the fireplace, Igor!" said Dracula, exasperated and aloof.
The sounds of Igor's limp leg dragging across the floor echoed through the building as he made his way to his master's room at an aggravatingly slow pace. He had finally made it to the master's room, sweating profusely and wheezing his lungs out.
"Huff, huff, blasted trick knee..." Igor muttered under his breath. "Master, I picked up the books you asked for. "The Lost Love" by Arnold Waybright, "Coping with Loss" by Cynthia Meyer, and the novelization of Hooper."
"Thank you, Igor." said Dracula, not even glancing at Igor. "Leave them by the door, I'll tend to them in a moment."
Igor dropped the books by the door, just as his master commanded. Before he left, he addressed him.
"Master?" said Igor. "Do you think tonight, you might... y'know, actually go out?"
"Go... out?" Dracula questioned.
"Y'know..." Igor continued. "Out on the prowl? Maybe... bite some women? ...Like back when you were a man?"
Dracula stared blankly at his minion.
"You remember being a man, right?" asked Igor. "An actual, serious adult? With dignity?"
"Uhh... not tonight." said Dracula as he curled his legs up in a defensive manner. "I'm not ready. Maybe tomorrow night... maybe."
Igor rolled his eyes, cracked his knee so he could walk normally, and shuffled his way out of the room in a huff. Dracula merely went back to sulking. Staring at the sad little doll like a hungry dog stares at a plate of cupcakes just out of reach. There was no denying it, it had been five years and he still wasn't over Mina.
"Oh, Mina..." Vlad lamented, deep in thought. "Where are you? Where did you go? You were always such a sweet little girl. Not a single grievance in your innocent little heart."
"Kiss my ass, Nick." Mina remarked.
Mina leaned on her locker in the hallway of her school next to her friend Martha, who stood beside her nervously holding a book. It was their senior year at Tremorton High. At the tender age of 17, adjusting to life before college wasn't going so well. Her attempts to fit in had varied success, but mostly ended in failure. She had started wearing a white blouse under her usual red dress, and she started dying her hair black.
"Come on, babe. Don't be like that." Nick said smugly.
Oh, and she had also started dating Nick. Which was awful. Nick had grown his hair out, started wearing these ridiculous fingerless gloves like they made him look so cool, started cutting off the sleeves on his t-shirts to show off his non-existent muscles, and started wearing t-shirts for bands he never even listened to. Today it was Dire Straights. I cannot say enough bad things about Nick.
"Don't be like what? It's a stupid idea." said Mina.
"A stupid idea?" retorted Nick. "So sneaking into the old Tremorton caverns and writing our names in graffiti on the walls is stupid?"
"Why did you exposit the entire plan like that?" asked Mina. "We've been talking about it for the past ten minutes, I don't think you needed to explain it."
"Well yeah, I know." shrugged Nick. "I just thought Martha needed catching up."
"Martha's been here." said Mina.
"Actually, I think I might need to hear that again." said Martha. "D-did you just say the old Tremorton caves?"
"Martha, just relax." said Mina, calming her friend down. "We're not going in any caves just for some stupid senior prank."
"Aww, come on, babe!" Nick insisted. "Don't you get it? If we pull this thing off, we could be legends! They'll be talking about this prank for years to come. People will actually remember us when we graduate - don't 'ya wanna be remembered for something?"
Mina rolled her eyes. She always had a desire to be popular, but her natural common sense was telling her, in no uncertain terms, that this was a horrible, horrible idea.
"Look, Nick. This isn't happening. It's a stupid idea." said Mina. "Nothing's gonna change my mind on this matter."
"Oh yeah?" Said Nick, smugly. "Would it change your mind if I told you Brit and Tiff are coming?"
A little switch clicked off inside Mina's head.
"...Brit and Tiff?" asked Mina.
"That's right, Nobbit."
The Crust Cousins were there, in all their snobbish glory. Brit stood there, a can of graffiti clenched in her hand.
"Oh, lord..." Mina groaned under her breath as she rolled her eyes.
"When we heard about Nick's plan, we thought it was just an extraordinary idea." said Brit. "Your little friend Nick doesn't normally have too many of those."
"You got that right." Mina mumbled to herself.
"But this one is absolutely fabulous. People are sure to remember us." Brit continued.
"Yeah, of course we understand if you're too scared to try it, Mina." Tiff added. "After all, losers don't usually have a lot of nerve."
"Losers...?"
That last comment finally managed to pierce Mina's ego. The part of her brain that controlled her better judgement switched right off, and all the parts of her brain that numbed her resistance to stupid bullcrap all lit up like Time Square on New Year's Eve. Or New Year's day. Either one of those works. In any case, Mina was about to get involved in a really, really stupid plan.
"Fine!" Mina scowled as she grabbed the graffiti can out of Brit's hand. "If that's the way you want it, we'll be there."
"Mina!" pleaded Martha.
"We're doing this, Martha!" Mina interrupted, a grim determination in her voice. "We're not losers and we're not scared."
"Glad to hear it!" said Brit. "We'll be waiting for you there, Mina."
Just as quickly and snobbishly they had come in, the Crust Cousins walked off. For whatever reason, Nick shrugged and followed behind them, leaving Mina and Martha on their own. Mina leaned on the lockers and rolled her eyes for what had to be the umpteenth time today, and Martha stood there shivering in fear.
"Friggin' Crust Cousins..." Mina bemoaned.
"M-Mina? W-we're not really going to the old Tremorton caves, a-are we?" asked Martha, nervously.
"Relax, Martha. It's no big deal." Mina urged her friend. "It's just some stupid caves, aside from some extremely unsafe structural issues, wild animals that may or may not have various diseases, and the unignorable fact that we could easily get lost behind a huge amount of fallen debris and starve to death, there's nothing to be afraid of."
"But it's not any of that stuff that scares me..." said Martha. "What if there's... a vampire?"
"...What?" Mina asked, in annoyed disbelief.
"I know it sounds crazy, but..." Martha continued. "What if there's like, a vampire hiding out in the old caves, and he preys on us as he next victims?"
"Martha, how many times have we been over this?" Asked Mina. "Vampires don't exist, and even if they did they're not as scary or terrifying as you think they are. Heck, they're probably more afraid of you than you are of them."
"Y-you promise?" Martha said weakly.
"I promise, Martha." said Mina. "Trust me, vampires aren't real. They're just imaginary friends for really lonely children."
"Lonely, lonely children..."
"Stupid master and his stupid movies. Grrk! Stupid human girl. Stupid Count and his stupid soul-crushing existential crisis..."
Igor's trick-knee had given out yet again. It was particularly a problem right now, as he was in the middle of dragging himself halfway across Tremerton in the blistering cold pre-winter weather with a huge bag of the Count's unwashed capes and other assorted filthy laundry covered in dried sweat, tears and other indescribable, inexplicable filth. Occasionally making his way through the sewers to avoid detection from the city's local populous.
"'Oh, Igor! I can't go out and feed tonight!'" said Igor in a mocking tone. "'I still have a busy schedule of sleeping and crying to wrap up!' I swear, I thought he'd get better without the human girl in his life, but he's more insufferable than ever!"
As Igor sluggishly limped his way down the street, he heard a strange noise coming from an alleyway. Normally, he'd figure it was none of his business and just walk away. But he was looking for any excuse to take a break from this awful, awful work he was doing. So he dropped the bag where he stood, pulled a flashlight from his pocket and began to search for the source of this mysterious noise.
As he searched, his light drifted to the dumpster in the alley.
"Ah! My friggin' eyes!"
A long haired, unkempt man was eating from a half-empty pizza box in the garbage. He had a long goatee, bloodshot eyes and wore an open, ripped denim jacket with no shirt. On first glance, the man didn't appear any different than your average homeless man. But this particular ugly, unkempt homeless man was actually Igor's good friend, Smilin' Jack. Much like the Count, he was a vampire. Their similarities began and ended there.
"Jack? Is that you?" asked Igor.
"Igor? Igor! I haven't seen you in years, man." said Jack. "You know, 'ya really gotta be more careful with that friggin' thing, man. That was right in my friggin' eyes."
"Sorry about your 'frigging' eyes, Jack." said Igor. "What are you doing here? Why are you eating out of the garbage."
"Awww man, can you believe it? Some a-hole threw out half a pizza! Tch, mortals. Can you believe 'em?"
"Ugh, you're eating mortal food?" Igor asked in disgust. "How can you stomach that stuff? You're even eating it from the trash!"
"Eh, it's not so bad." said Jack. "Once you choke back the rancid bile that builds up in your throat and get past that rotting garbage taste, it's pretty edible. Not as good as blood, but still..."
Igor sighed heavily. Jack could tell something was wrong. Being alive since the golden age of piracy tended to do that.
"You look like hell, shortman." said Jack. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing, it's just..." Igor muttered. "Ugh! It's the Count! It's always been the Count! I'm working 24/7 as his live-in nurse now. It's so terrible. Day and night I slave away for him, and he doesn't even do anything evil anymore! All he does is sulk, cry and sleep. It's the most horrible thing I can imagine."
"Heh, yeah. I heard about the Count. 'tween you and me, he's kinda a whimp." said Jack. "Guess he really couldn't handle losin' his little human friend, eh?"
Igor nodded in silent agreement. But once he realized the implications of Jack's statement, he went into full damage control mode.
"Wha - ? No!" Igor insisted. "The Count's friend wasn't a human, she was just a werewolf! She only appeared human when -"
"Save it, Quasimodo." said Jack. "You think I can't tell a fake werewolf from a real one? You'd have to get up pretty early in the evening to make this vampire think a little girl with messy hair and a plastic nose is a werewolf."
Igor began to sweat profusely.
"Relax, man. I ain't gonna tell nobody." said Jack. "That was nice how you pulled a fast one on those jerkwads from the Ghoul's Tribunal. Judge Shreckel's a real a-hole. You know that guy's retired now? Eh, I'll get into all that a little later. We're talkin' about your problems, aren't we?"
"Phew! Thanks, Jack." said Igor as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Yeah, it's just... the Count is completely insufferable! I thought Mina leaving him would make him a better vampire! Bring out the monster in him. But all it did was make him a depressed wreck. He's worse than ever now."
"Well, if he's so upset about losin' his human, why not just get him a new one?" asked Jack.
"That's a terrible idea, Jack." said Igor. "I couldn't stand another human, one was bad enough. Besides, no other human in the world would ever befriend a bloodsucking vampire."
"Exactly." said Jack.
"Exactly what?" asked Igor.
"Man, you are a slow one, aren't you Igor?" said Jack.
"See, it's like this." said Jack, waving around the pizza crust in his hand. "You set up your pal Drac with a new little human friend, right? He thinks he's hit the land a' milk and honey, thinks it's so great, 'oh boy! a new human to play with!' But what he doesn't know is, the second that new human sees him, they'll reject him. It'll kill him. You do this with a couple more humans and eventually, the Count doesn't want a human friend anymore - see where I'm goin' with this? Yeah, I think 'ya do. The Count realizes all humans are d-bags who hate monsters, and he goes psycho. Then, you'll have your old monster back in full working order. Sound good?"
"Good lord, Jack! You're a genius!" said Igor, excited.
"Yeah, yeah. I know." said Jack, inbetween bites of the rotting pizza crust. "Damn, I wish I had some dip to go with this."
"I'm looking at one." said Igor, smugly.
"Ba-zing!" shouted Jack. "...hey, wait a minute."
The Harper residence was quiet and unassuming. The patriarch of the household, Mr. Harper, was sitting by the fireplace reading from a newspaper. A virtual living, breathing anachronism, Mr. Harper seemed to be from a completely different time. Of course, the fact that he was still reading a newspaper probably made that pretty clear.
The trademark silence of the Harper residence was broken like a glass vase in a prize fight cage when Mina came in, swinging the door wide open, then taking the careful time to close it gently. Mr. Harper's eyes barely rose from the newspaper. Mr. Harper was never a very attentive man, but he had noticed his daughter had come home cranky, an event he was more than used to.
"Rough day at school, Mina?" asked Mr. Harper.
"I really don't wanna talk about it." said Mina.
"Well, I tried." Mr. Harper said as heshrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you don't tell me, I'm sure you can tell the therapist."
"Ugh, I still have to go to that stupid thing?" said Mina. "How long until I'm done with these stupid sessions?"
"Whenever you dig yourself out of whatever severe depression is making you so moody." replied Mr. Harper. "Or whenever you wash that awful dye our of your hair. Whichever comes first."
"Ugh!" Mina groaned.
Mina walked over to the couch and plopped herself down, face first. Mr. Harper, more than used to Mina's dramatics at this point, merely shrugged and went back to reading his paper.
"By the way, don't forget to cook dinner tonight." said Mr. Harper.
"Can't Lucy do it?" asked Mina.
"Mina, you know your sister Lucy has been backing in Europe these last five years, touring the castles of Romania and such. Don't you remember she taught you how to dye your hair just before she left?" said Mr. Harper. "Oh, that reminds me. The paper has this wonderful article on how to handle exposition in fiction, I really think you should read it."
"I guess I can whip something up." Mina sighed. "I'm really beat today, can I just make jello?"
"There's always room for jello!" said Mr. Harper, enthusiastically.
Mina lethargically made her way up. She had a brief attack of conscious recalling what her and her friends were about to do tomorrow, especially since obviously she hadn't told him about any of it. The man would probably have a triple-bypass if he heard Mina was entering a dangerous set of caves like she was one of those filthy, terrible, gypsy children from The Goonies. Mina looked back at her father, a mixture of guilt and longing in her eyes.
"Hey dad..." said Mina. "Is it okay to do something really stupid, if it's for a good purpose?"
"Like, what are we talking about here? Just how stupid?" said Mr. Harper. "Donating to a Kickstarter stupid? Writing fan fiction stupid? Or just burning your hand on the oven trying to make jello even though making jello has nothing to do with the oven stupid?"
"No, no. Nothing like that." said Mina. "I just mean, y'know, in general. If you do a stupid thing, but it has good results, is that okay?"
"Hmm, I see. Well personally, I find the whole concept a bit iffy." said Mr. Harper. "Usually, when you do something stupid or wrong for 'good reasons' it just doesn't work out. Often the good it does is temporary, fleeting. But the damage it does lasts forever."
Mina sighed. It was the second hit her ego took today.
"I guess you have a point..." Mina muttered before heading off into the kitchen. Mr. Harper simply went back to reading, not picking up on his daughter's strange behaviour. Again, Mr. Harper was never a very attentive man. Of course the fact that his daughter was friends with a friggin' vampire for like five years probably should have been a clue.
"Ow!" Mina screamed from the kitchen. "Dad! I burned my hand!"
"Wait, how?" asked Mr. Harper.
Igor shoved open the doors to Dracula's manor. The ambient sounds of soft weeping and sniffling filled the air, and the only light was a dim blue glow coming from the living room. As Igor drew closer and closer to it, he could just make out the source of that faint blue glow: a television. From the faint noises coming from it, he already knew what the Count was watching.
"Oh lord, not Mean Girls again..." Igor groaned.
The Count slouched in his recliner curled up in the fetal position his arms wrapped tightly around Mina's old doll as he wept softly a Mean Girls played at a reasonable volume on his antiquated television set. It was an absolutely embarassing display. Seriously, just pathetic. The sight of it turned Igor's stomach. His turning-prone stomach.
"That tears it." said Igor.
Igor grabbed the plug to the television and ripped it out, shutting it off. That was a completely reasonable reaction considering the circumstances. Unfortunately, what he was about to do next wasn't. He grabbed the television and tossed it out the window, shattering both of them.
"Hey! I was watching that!" said the Count. Suddenly snapping out of his soul-crushing depression to be mildly annoyed.
"Master, I've had enough of this!" Igor shouted. "I've tried to be fair, I've tried to be patient, I've tried to be understanding, but I can't put up with this crap anymore! Nobody could! The last five years you've done nothing but sulk on the couch and whine! You've watched Mean Girls five-hundred and six consecutive times in a row!"
"You counted?" said the Count. (Author's Note: heh).
"This whole thing is driving me crazy!" Igor screamed. "I've decided tonight, it has to end! No more whining, no more sobbing, and for Christ's sake, no more Mean Girls!"
"Oh, I understand..." said the Count, still hugging Mina's doll as he stood up from his recliner.
"I'll be packing up my things, now." said the Count, trying his best to sound like this wasn't a big deal for him while simultaneously holding back tears. "Y'know, I can probably crash with Frankenstein* for a few days until I get an apartment ready, then I can move in and assuming I can find a temp-job that can pay the rent, I'll stick around there for a months, then... I guess there's always caves to lurk in and... and..." The Count's battle to keep the unstoppable flood of powerful tears from flowing like the world's most embarrassing typhoon was doomed to end in pride-obliterating failure.
(Author's Note: *Adam Frankenstein, the monster. Not the scientist, Victor Frankenstein.)
"I... I... I guess..." The Count could barely speak as the unprevetable TEARnado was about to unfold like Biggie up in the club.
"No! No! Just stop!" pleaded Igor. "You're not getting kicked out!"
"Oh..." said The Count, wiping back the pre-tears in his eyes as he called down. "Hehe, I knew it. I was just pulling your leg is all."
Igor rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever." said Igor. "But anyway, yeah. Here's what I really had in mind:"
Igor rubbed his hands together and took in a big, prideful breath as he smiled.
"I'm going to get you a new human."
"...A what?" asked the Count, befuddled.
"A new human." said Igor. "Someone new to play with, just like that... 'adorable' little Mina girl we were both so crazy about."
"But you hated Mina." The Count recalled.
"What? Are you kidding? I... loved Mina!" said Igor. "But y'know, she's... gone, now, and ever since she left you've been a miserable, shameful wreck of what used to be a monster."
"True." the Count conceded.
"But when you and Mina were still friends, you were happy." said Igor. "You had your crap together, you were productive, and you still fed every once and a while instead of making me buy blood bags from that hippie-haired moron down by the hospital."
"Oh yeah, how is Vandal anyway?" asked the Count.
"Still a terrible person." said Igor. "Anyway, the point i'm trying to make is, if we find you a new human to befriend, you'll be a happier monster... and y'know, maybe you'll actually start acting like a monster again."
The Count was uncertain. He wasn't sure was ready for another human friend, the very thought of it made him feel a strange mixture of curiosity and guilt. He looked down at the little doll Mina used to play with, and then looked up at Igor.
"I'm... not really sure." said the Count. "I don't think Mina would like it..."
"Oh, for crying out loud!" said Igor, in an unfortunately usual annoyed tone. "Master, don't you get it? She's never coming -"
The Count's eyes welled up with tears, a harbinger of the oncoming old fashioned grown-man meltdown that was about to occur.
"I mean, uh, who knows?" Igor halfheartedly shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."
The Count wiped away his tears and took a deep breath.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess..." the Count reasoned.
"But in the mean time, do you really think she'd mind if you hung out with some other people?" Igor said. "I'm sure she'd prefer it to knowing you're doing nothing but lying around all day feeling miserable."
Igor's logic made a lot of sense to the Count. The harder he thought about it, the less he could refute it. For the first time in five years, the Count smiled. He put Mina's old doll up on the living room shelf and turned to his good friend and servant with newfound zest for unlife.
"Igor, my friend, you're right!" said Vlad. "There's no point sitting around here feeling sorry for myself! Now when there's a whole world of lonely people who only want a friend!"
Igor rubbed his hands together and snickered menacingly. The Count had no idea what his true intentions were.
"Sounds good to me, master!" Igor said, slyly. "Let's hit the town and find you a friend!"
"Sure thing!" the Count said, enthusiastically. "We'll go right after this King of the HIll episode is ov-"
The Count looked at the empty television stand and the broken window, and remembered.
"Oh, right." said the Count. "Also, we need to get a new television while we're out."
The darkened streets of Tremorton were quite a sight to behold. A relatively small town, Tremorton had a habit of dying completely at night. Honestly, if you were a vampire or a criminal, you could do much worse than Tremorton. But today, for the first time in five years, there actually was a vampire prowling the streets of Tremorton. Not in search of blood, but in search... of a friend.
(Author's Note: Holy crap, that was golden.)
Anyway, the Count and his little friend Igor were hiding in the shadows of a secluded alleyway, scouting out the street for potential friends for him.
"All right, it's the moment of truth, Master." said Igor.
"Hehe, I'm a little nervous." said the Count. "It's been so long. I'm not so sure I'll make a good impression."
"It's fine, it's fine." Igor reassured the Count. "If you screw up one human, there's always more."
"Oh, I'm too nervous! Igor, you have to pick for me!" the Count urged.
"Believe me, master. I wouldn't have it any other way." Igor said, with an undertone of sneakiness.
Igor began to visually scout the immediate area, looking for the worst of the worst. Anyone who could set the count off, reject him, traumatize him or be traumatized by him. Lucky for him, he spotted a homeless man in an alleyway across the street, walking around in circles and muttering to himself about vague conspiracy theories.
"Majestic Twelve... Stonecutters... The Psychonauts... they're all beamin' messages into my head. Can't let 'em get me. Won't let 'em get me. Gotta run away. Can't get the gray death."
Igor smiled a wicked smile. He had spotted his victim.
"That one. Over there." Igor said as he pointed to the filthy homeless vagabound.
"Sounds good to me!" said the oblivious Count.
Igor and the Count made their way across the street. Igor step forward and introduced the Count and himself.
"Hello, sir. My name is Igor. This is my friend Vladimir. He's been lonley lately." Igor told the homeless man.
"Hello spooky ghost man." the hobo said, holding his arm out to shake hands. "Care to spare a dime for a former Firefly writer?"
"BLARGH!"
The Count grabbed the homeless man by the collar and bite into his neck, hard. Draining the precious blood from his veins like a syringe.
"Ahhh! Someone! Someone help!" shouted the homeless man.
"Master! Master! What are you doing?!" shouted Igor.
The Count released his jaws from the man's neck and shoved him to the ground. He fell unconcious almost instantly.
"What the hell was that, Master?" asked Igor.
"Sorry, the beast took over." said the Count. "It happens sometimes. You know how it is, we've been at this over seven-hundred years."
"Where was this enthusiasm before?" asked Igor.
The Count stared at the broken, battered homeless man groaning in pain on the ground.
"...I don't think I made a good first impression." said the Count. "We should probably find someone else, all things considered."
"Well yeah, 'ya think?" said Igor.
"I think there's an information kiosk not too far from here, we can go there and see where people usually congregate."
About five or six minutes later, Igor and the Count made it to the kiosk. They stood outside and found there was no one there, but a service bell sat on the counter, suggesting an employee was in the back room tending to something or other.
"Alright, here we are." said Igor. "Just ring the bell and an employee will be right out."
The Count ringed the bell, and just as Igor said, an employee lethargically slumped their way out. She was an obnoxious teenager with a nose piercing and an Invader Zim t-shirt. It was a t-shirt of Zim wearing another t-shirt that said "I'd rather be napping" on it. Hot Topic was running out of ideas for Zim merchandise. But that's all beside the point.
"Welcome to Tremorton Tours Info. How can I help you?" the bored teenager muttered.
"Hello, my name is Igor." said Igor. "This is my friend. We're looking for -"
"Can you tell me where I can find little girls?" said the Count.
Igor stared at the Count with an annoyed, exhausted grimace.
"I just love little girls." said the Count, in a Tobias-esque moment of oblivious idiocy. "If you could help me find little girls to play with, I'd be so grateful."
"...I'm gonna call the police now." said the teenager. She turned around and walked back into the backroom.
"Oh, goodness." remarked the Count. He looked back at Igor, who was still giving him that same look. "Was it something I sa-"
"YES IT WAS SOMETHING YOU SAID!" Igor screeched.
Mina quietly made her way down the stairs, walking softly on her tip toes to avoid attracted attention. She had traded in her normal attire for a black hoodie and a pair of sweat pants. A dark dufflebag was hastily swung over her shoulder. But even as she tip-toed down the stairway, a slightly misstep caused the steps to creak.
"Going somewhere, Mina?"
Mr. Harper was sitting in the living room, reading from a book with a corn-cob pipe in his mouth.
"Dad? What are you doing up?" asked Mina. "Have you been sitting in that same chair all day?"
"Oh, I'm trying to read all of 'War and Peace' in one sitting." said Mr. Harper. "But that's beside the point. Where are you going at 8:00pm on school night, dressed in a hoodie and carrying a dufflebag?"
"Uhh, well some friends of mine are coming to pick me up..." said Mina.
"To do what?" asked Mr. Harper.
Mina needed a cover story, and it had to be convincing.
"We're gonig to... uh..." Mina pondered as she tried her hardest to come up with something. "We're going to... desecrate Waylon Jennings' grave?"
"...Oh." said Mr. Harper, losing all interest and returning his gaze to his book. "Give his headstone a good whack for me, won't you dear?"
Mina stood there in disbelief for a good few seconds before deciding to leave well enough alone. There was a loud "honk" outside, signifying her friends had arrived. She took one final concerned look at her father before leaving the house. Outside, Nick, Martha, the Crust Cousins and those two weird fat kids who look exactly alike and always follow Nick around were all there. Nick was driving his mom's mini-van which he managed to get ahold of but convincing his mom he - oh, nobody cares let's just keep moving.
"Hey Mina! Moment of truth's here! You in or out?" shouted Nick as he honked the horn a couple times in an obnoxious fashion.
Mina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Nick." she said. "I'll be right there."
"Saved a seat right up front for you, babe." Nick said in a smug, faux-smooth tone.
Mina walked over and took a seat up front. Just behind her and Nick were the Crust Cousins seated comfortably in the spacious middle seats, while poor Martha was wedged inbetween the two fat kids in the back. Almost as quickly as Mina had shut the door, Nick stomped the gas - and then let up on it because they were in a school zone - and began to drive.
"Next stop, Tremorton Caverns!" said Nick. "By the way, while we're headed there, I got a little surprise for everyone."
Nick dug around under the dashboard and pulled up a sixpack of beer. Coors Lite, to be exact. Now, Coors Lite was famous for tasting like liquid garbage and deer urine. A much more accurate simulation of that distinctive deer urine taste than even the actual deer urine flavoured beer currently on the market already achieved. I really hate Coors lIte.
"Nick, what the hell are those?" asked Mina, slightly shocked.
"It's beer, Mina!" said Nick. "I figured since we're ending Highschool soon, we should do it with a bang! So I say we chug lite beers and hang out with the wrong crowd!"
"I'm not drinking that crap." said Mina.
"Yeah, me neither." said Martha, barely making a sound muffled inbetween the two fat kids.
"To be completely honest, I wouldn't touch that swill with a gun to my head." said Brit.
"Yeah, and if my mom finds out I've been drinking again she'll make come back to those stupid AA meetings she always goes to so she can find a new husband." said Tiff.
"...Oh." said Nick. "And I'm driving, so I guess I'm not drinking this crap either."
"Eh, screw it." Nick shrugged. Nick tossed the six-pack at the window doing 30mph. It managed to hit some poor bastard upside the head, spilling terrible-tasting lite beer all over him.
"Hey!" the man growled as the car sped off.
"HAHA! LOSER!" Nick screeched as he poked his head out the window.
Mina gazed at Nick with a troubled grimace, but he didn't seem to notice. She turned her head to her friend Martha in the back, squeezed between two fat guys like a corks trapped inside a wine bottle, trying her best to suck it up like a champ. She also saw the Crust Cousins, Tiff filing her nails and Brit fiddling away on her overpriced cellphone. It was all pretty difficult for her to look at, so she turned her head to the window and tired her best to ignore it.
As Mina watched the cars pass by at a growingly unsafe speed, the elaborate web of mental gymnastics and delusions in her head that her ego had built to make her think this was a good idea slowly began to unravel. No matter how hard she tried, the little voice in her head telling her this was a monumentally stupid idea was growing louder and louder.
Igor and the Count walked down the dimly lit sidewalk, a full night of shennanigans had lef them battered and bruised. The Count and Igor had been searching all night to find the Count a new friend, and their success rate was pretty much 0%. Of particular note was the fact that the Count had a black eye.
"Well, this night's been a bust." the Count bemoaned. "Everyone we've talked to has either been a total jerk or deathly afraid of us. I'm starting to lose hope."
"Well, actually, I have a confession to make, master." said Igor. "The truth is, I didn't actually bring you out here to make a new friend."
"What?" Drac questioned.
"The truth is the exact opposite." Igor state bluntly. "I brought you out here to show you that humans are no good."
"You... what?" the Count asked with great confusion, and just a little bit of hurt.
"Look, I know you liked Mina a lot, but she was a once-in-a-lifetime find." Igor explained. "The sad fact is, humans are dicks. Most of the time when they see a vampire, they don't think 'oh cool! wouldn't it be fun to be friends with this guy?' they just look for a stake to shove in your heart so they can leave you for the sunrise."
"That... that doesn't make any sense!" the Count pleaded. "So you just brought me out here to torture me, or something? To make me feel bad?"
"I brought you out here to make you start acting like a monster again! To realize humans are scum and to start preying on them!" Igor implored. "And also, yeah, to torture you a little..." he mumbled.
"Great Lugosi's ghost! it all makes sense now!" said the Count. "That drunk guy who punched me in the face, that jerk who had the nerve to be homeless, those two black guys who were trying to steal a car, and then it turned out they were repomen and they had a permit to take that car and then for think they were trying to steal it they called me racist and made me cry... you've actively been sending me the worst people you could find! You've been trying to sabotage this mission from the start."
"Exactly." Igor groaned, relieved and a little bit annoyed.
"No! I reject it, Igor!" the Count growled against Igor. "I reject your vision of reality! There HAVE to be good humans out there! I refuse to believe humanity is beyond redemption! Why, just look over there!"
The Count gestured to an old woman in a banana-yellow lab coat, struggling to hold up her groceries as she stood in the rain, looking frightened and confused.
"Do you see that woman?" asked the Count. "Look at how frail and scared she is! I'm sure if I offered to help her, we'd be friends for the rest of her life!"
"Ms. Wakeman?" asked Igor, just barely making out the woman's identity. "She's an old spinster. 'the rest of her life' is like half an episode of Mattlock."
"Be quiet, you angry little dwarf." said the Count. "I'm going to help this poor woman, and show you once and for all that humans aren't all bad!'
The Count adjusted the collar of his cowl and began to slink over towards Ms. Wakeman. She didn't notice him approaching her, she didn't notice him coming up to her side, and she just barely noticed it when he tapped on her shoulder. When she lethargically turned her head over to the Count, her eyes went as wide as dinner plates.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Would you like some help?" The Count asked with kindness.
"VAMPIRE!" Ms. Wakeman screamed in pure horror.
Ms. Wakeman dug around in one of the pockets of her lab coat and pulled out a small cannister of pepper spray, and then sprayed the Count right in his eyes.
"AAAH!" the Count screamed as the searing mixture of highly concentrated oleoresin capscicum, oil, water, glycol and (in certain known cases) small amounts of nitrogen (used as a propellent) hit his eyes. He dropped to the ground, grabbing his eyes in pain.
"I'll save you master!" Igor screamed. Igor raced across the street to help his downed master, squirming in pain on the sidewalk.
"DWARF!" Ms. Wakeman screamed. She proceeded to blast Igor in the eyes as well.
"Argh! Son of a BITCH!" Igor screamed as he dropped to his knees.
Ms. Wakeman watched the two monsters writhe in agony on the sidewalk. Trembling and muttering to herself as if somehow she was the victim. Suddenly, the loud noise of a pair of exhaust engines filled the air. It was her robot daughter, Jenny, coming in on her rocket boots. Jenny landed next to Ms. Wakeman to console her.
"Mom, is everything alright?! I heard you screaming!" said Jenny.
"Thank goodness you got her, XJ9!" said Ms. Wakeman. "These... things came out of nowhere and tried to attack me!"
Jenny glanced at the two monsters rolling around in the street, screaming in pain. She instantly deduced they weren't a threat.
"...You mean those guys in the halloween costumes?" Jenny reasoned. "Mom, remember when you thought that midget was an assassin?"
"Firstly, I hardly see how that particular incident is relavent." Ms. Wakeman scoffed. "Secondly, that man had a knife!"
"He was a butcher, mom! He worked at that place for twelve years!" Jenny pleaded. "All I'm saying is maybe it wasn't a good idea to stop taking your medication."
"Oh, fine." Ms. Wakeman scoffed again. "I suppose if it'll make you happy, we'll go see Doctor Schlossberg in the morning."
"Okay that's not even his name." said Jenny, bluntly.
Ms. Wakeman walked off, callously leaving the Count and Igor there. After a good twenty minutes of rolling around and screeching, Igor and the Count were recovering on a street corner. Luckily, Igor had brought a bottled water with him, so he and the Count could use it to rinse out the searing hot chemical bullcrap of their eyes.
"See what I mean now, master?" Igor asked, splashing a bit of water in his bloodshot, swollen eyes.
"Okay, I admit that old woman was a total C-word." said the Count. (Author's Note: The "C" word wasn't "Count.")
"But nothing will break my resolve, my minature friend!" The Count stated proudly, holding his index finger in the air in a proud and commanding manner. "I still have faith in the kindness of humans!"
Just as the Count had made it through that sentence, a speeding motorist tossed a case of beers out his window, hitting the Count right in the face and spilling terrible tasting lite beer all over him.
"Hey!" the Count growled as the car sped off.
"HAHA! LOSER!" the man screeched as he poked his head out the window just before he cut the corner and drove off.
The Count took a whiff of the liquid he was covered in.
"Is this... is this urine?" the Count questioned.
"Probably." Igor reasoned.
The Count sighed heavily.
"Well, you win, Igor." the Count conceeded. A miserable, broken, moist mess of a monster. "I guess people really do suck."
The Count slouched his head down low and began to walk off.
"Master? Where are you going?" Igor asked.
"I'm not ready to go home yet, I think I'll go find some cave to sulk in."
"Come on Mina, keep up!" Nick insisted.
Illuminated only by the light of the lanterns in their hands, the horrible children pushed forward through Tremorton caverns. Mina, Martha, Nick, and the Crust Cousins. The goal was simple: find a good place to write graffiti, take a picture and go down as highschool legends.
"Ugh, this sucks." groaned Nick. "None of these places are any good."
"Gee, it's almost like a dark, dank cave in the middle of nowhere isn't a good place to write your name on a wall." quipped Mina, sarcastically.
"Ooh, sarcasm. Very attractive, Mina." Brit quipped back, sarcastically. "With gems like that, it's no wonder you managed to sang a winner like Nick."
"Hehe, yeah." said Nick. "...Hey, wait a minute!"
Mina was quite troubled. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fight off the nagging doubts in her head. That little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was a stupid idea, that this was a dangerous and dimwitted thing to do, and that it was all for nothing. That getting a stupid picture in a stupid yearbook wasn't worth it.
"A-are we almost there?" said Martha, frightened and shaking.
"Relax, dorkward. We'll find it." Trish waved her off.
Maybe it was her father's words that grated on Mina's concious so much. Maybe it was seeing her friend Martha tremble like a wounded kitten. Or maybe, just maybe, it was looking up at the bats all over the roof of the cave, and thinking back to her very special friend. But whatever it was, all the guilt and common sense she had buried around a mound of teenage crap was slowly starting to boil to the surface.
"Mina? Hey Mina!" said Nick.
"Wha- what?" said Mina, snapping out of her stupor.
The group had come to a complete stop. It seemed the children were getting more than a little sick of backtracking around that dark, empty hole and finding absolutely nothing.
"Me and the Crusts are heading out to the west side of the caves." Nick explained. "You and Martha are gonna search around the upper levels. Sound good?"
"B-but aren't the upper levels uns-stable?" Martha stuttered out.
"Tch, why? Are you scared?" mocked Trish.
"You know, if you two are too cowardly to do the job, we'll understand." scoffed Brit.
Mina wanted to do a dozen things at that moment. She wanted to stand up to the Crusts. She wanted to turn around, walk out of this cave and never come back. She wanted to go home, wash the dye out of her hair, eat a coffee cake and go to sleep. And I would just love to tell you that Mina proudly did all of that and we could end the story here. But, that didn't happen.
"Ugh, fine."
Instead, Mina sheepishly agreed to the groups assinine demands. She grabbed her friend Martha by the wirst and led heer up the cave walls to the upper levels of the cavern. The most dangerously unstable, extremely hazardous section in the most dangerously unstable, hazardous place in the city. Mina and Martha walked across the surface of the cavern, caerfully try to keep balance and keep their path illuminated. Doing everything in their power to avoid falling down and dying horribly.
"S-so, is this really worth it?" asked Martha.
"Is what worth it?" Mina groaned.
"I mean, all of this?" Martha nervously spoke. "It's just, y'know, it seems like a long, scary way to go to get a really cool picture in the year book... or Facebook... or whatever book we're gonna put this in... I think - AHHH"
"Martha!"
Martha was interuptted when a chunk of the cave floor collasped, sending her falling. Marha screamed out. Without hesitation, Mina ran over and grabbed her by the wrist. After a fair bit of struggling, Mina was able to pull her friend up and narrowly save her life. As they both sat there, traumatized and exhausted, things really started to come into perspective for Mina.
"Are you alright, Martha?" asked Mina.
"Y-y-yeah..." said Martha, still shaken up.
"I'm sorry that happened to you, Martha..." said Mina, the guilt welling up inside her like crazy.
"It's... it's fine, Mina." said Martha, nervous and shakey as ever.
"Martha, can I ask you a question?" asked Mina.
"Umm, sure." said Martha.
"Why did you come out here?" Mina asked. "Did writing graffiti on a cave wall really sound like such a great idea?"
"Well, I mean... no. Actually, I thought the plan was pretty stupid." said Martha. "But I mean, I knew how important it was to you, and you're my best friend."
Mina sighed heavily. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
"Oh, Martha. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." said a mournful Mina. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."
"Well, it's not so bad, Mina." said Martha. "I mean sure, Termorton Caverns is dark, spooky and incredibly dangerous but it's not like -"
"No, I mean all of this. The past five years or so. All this stupid crap." said Mina. "The Crust Cousins, the dumb popularity nonsense, all the lame poser stuff we've been doing to try and fit in. It's all a bunch of crap. I dyed my hair, I changed everything I liked, I changed the way I acted all just to earn the vain respect of a bunch of people I don't even actually like. And the worst part is in this whole sad, stupid mess I neglected and mistreated my best friend."
"The count?" asked Martha.
"...What? No." said Mina. "I was talking about you!"
"Oh. Oh!" Martha exclaimed. "Uh, thanks, Mina."
"How do you know about the Count?" asked Mina.
"Don't you remember? You introduced us at that slumber party?" said Martha.
"I - uh - um... no! Okay? No!" Mina began to freak out. "The Count was imaginery! Alright?"
"Uhh, okay." Martha knew Mina wasn't right, but she could see how serious she was about it, so she decided to leave well enough alone.
"So can we get out of this horrible place already?" said Martha.
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, we can." said Mina. "Let's go find the guys and get out of here."
"Oh thank god..." sighed Martha.
"So hey, are you gonna break up with Nick?" Martha asked.
"Yeah, probably." Mina shrugged, not even caring.
"Is it okay if I rebound him afterwards or is he off limits?" Martha asked.
"Did you seriously just that?" asked Mina in disbelief.
"I'm so friggin' lonely, Mina..."
The Count breathed a heavy, depressed sigh. Deep within the dampest, darkest, most seculed little enclave in Tremorton Caverns, he sat on top of a large rock, sulking as he starred longingly into the beautiful, reflective subterrainian lake that almost seemed to shine even in this dreary, lightless place. Which actually if you're a vampire kind of sucks. But the Count didn't seem to mind. He was too deep in thought.
Looking into that clear blue water, he could only think of the wonderful friend who left him all those years ago. Mina, that sweet little girl who gave him a heart. He remembered her smile, her laugh, how they used to play together. How they used to have so much. He also remembered how she shouted him down, crushed his ego and sent him crawling out of her life sobbing.
But he wasn't angry at her. He could never be. He still loved her like crazy. She was still his best friend in the world.
Right at that moment, the Count her the sound of pudgy little feet shambling through stone and rubble. He turned his head to see Igor trying to squeeze his tiny form through a wedge in the cave wall. He finally managed to push through and fall right on his tubby little face. The Count didn't really react to this display. He just shrugged his shoulders and greeted his stubby little non-friend.
"Oh, hey Igor." said a crestfallen Count. "How are you?"
"[huff] I'm... [puff] fine..." said Igor, exhausted and out of breath. "Y'know it wasn't easy finding you. There are like a hundred caves in this stupid town."
"Sorry." the Count shrugged."
"So, uh..." Igor hesitated. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, yeah..." The Count said. "...No, I'm not alright."
"You were right, Igor. You were right about everything." the Count begrudgingly, bitterly somberly admited. "Humans really are terrible, horrible, loveless creatures. To tell you the truth, I knew you were right the whole time. I've never liked people - even when I was one. But... Mina was the only exception. When I was with her I actually felt... happy, and relaxed. I guess I was just hoping that if I could find a brand new human friend that I could replace her and the pain would go away. But I just have to except that the sweet little girl I knew and loved is gone now, and there's nothing I can do to change that."
Igor saw how sad his master was, and some strange, unfamiliar feelings began to stir in his blackened, shriveled little heart. It was a strange, new feeling. Was it... pity? No, no. It was too respectful to be pity. But it wasn't respectful enough to be admiration either. It was... sympathy? Yeah, Igor thought. I guess that's the word for it.
"Oh, master. It's alright." Igor consoled the Count as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure there are some good humans out there. Like... I dunno, the Baldwin brothers? Those guy are fun, I guess. And uhh... the Packers? ...Er, maybe the guy who invented the telephone? Is he still around?"
"Igor?" said the Count.
"Yes?" said Igor.
"Be quiet." The Count insisted.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the duo, they were not alone in this end of the cave. Nick and the other children were all gathered around, finally having found the perfect spot to lay their spray paint abomination. Nick was calling for Mina and Martha, waiting for them to arrive. Sure enough, they did. Mina looked grim, and Martha was timidly following behind her.
"There you two are!" Exclaimed Nick. "Where have you guys been?"
"They probably got scared and tried to find the way out." quipped Trish.
"Yeah! But they probably got lost. Tends to happen when you aren't very smart!" quipped Brit.
"Hehe, yeah..." Nick didn't like the way the Crusts were speaking to Mina, but he was too spineless to speak up.
"Nick, this is stupid. Me and Martha are going home." Mina said, confidently and defiantly.
"Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa!" Nick was absolutely stunned and totally confused. "Hold on here, Mina what are you talking about?"
"Ha! I knew it! This girl ain't nothing but a lame chicken!" said Trish.
"I knew she'd chicken out." said Brit.
"Mina, we're right here! You can't back out now!" Nick pleaded.
"No, Nick. This is stupid." Mina said defiantly. "Martha nearly got killed, and for what? Some stupid graffiti picture? It isn't worth it."
"Pah! Not worth it?" Brit said, offended.
"You're just making excuses!" protested Trish. "You're just a chicken!"
"At least my mom didn't go to an AA meeting to try and find a new husband." replied Mina.
That bitchy comment started a loud group argument that echoed out through the cave and caught Igor's attention. He told his master to wait and ran over to catch a glimpse of them. He saw the angry children screaming at each other - but that wasn't his concern. He saw the black-haired girl standing next to the nerd and instantly recognized her - he knew it was Mina.
His black, evil heart sank in his chest and he began to panic. If the Count saw Mina again, he knew the Count would relapse into his old, "good" ways. As bad as Igor hated seeing his master a miserable, depressed mess, he REALLY hated the idea of him becoming a happy, emotionally stable whimp again.
And suddenly, something clicked in Igor's twisted little mind. He smiled evilly as a nasty little idea entered his mind. A horrible, evil, no good, Grinch-esque idea. He quickly ran over to his master, grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him aside.
"Look, master! Look at this atrocity!" Igor pleaded.
"Ugh, fine, Igor." The Count groaned as Igor pulled him away.
That's when the Count saw them - the angry, bitter little children who had invaded his safe zone to argue and scream at each other. Not unlike how Mina screamed and argued with him the day he left her life.
"What the - what are they doing here?!" An outraged Count protested.
"They've invaded your sanctum, my master!" Igor said. "Look at them! They care nothing for your pain! Even at your most vunerable they torment you! Look at that one with the red hair! He's holding a spray can!"
"A spray can?!" shouted the Count.
"They're going to vandalize this cave! Right while you came here to cope!" Igor said, egging him on.
The Count's demeanor changed instantly. Once broken, crestfallen and somber. He was now grim, cold and composed. As the once weepy, blank look on his face faded into a firery scowl, the Count instantly knew what he had to do.
"Wait right here, Igor."
The Count morphed into a cloud of black mist and disappeared into the shadows. Igor became giggly and dancing a little jig.
The children were oblivious to all this, merely arguing away.
"Do you really think anyone is gonna give a crap about some stupid graffiti picture after highschool is over?" protested Mina.
"Well, who cares about when Highschool is over?" said Brit.
"Yeah! Who thinks that far ahead?" said Trish.
"Are you serious?" said Mina. "Do you really think -"
Just then, a cold and sickly wind blew through the cavern walls, hissing a quiet whisper as it blew out the lights on all their lanterns. A bolt of fear up everyone's collective spines as the darkness consumed their visions. Even the normally aloof Mina was unsettled.
"What was that?" exclaimed Nick.
"I can't see!" shouted a fearful Brit.
At that very moment, a ghastly voice echoed in the air, dripping with a grim, unnerving tone that could send shivers down the spine of even the most hardened man.
"Children..."
"Nngh..." Martha became lightheaded. Mina held out her heads, ready to catch her in case she fainted. She did, but in the wrong direction. She fell down face first on the cold, hard cave floor.
The children were absolutely terrified. This haunting voice, it's dreadful tones, echoing back and forth across the walls of the darkened caverns. It creeped down below their skin and deep into their very bones. They all huddled together in fear as a mysterious gray fog slowly began to fill the caves.
"Ohohoho! The trembling of mortal cowards!" The voice reveled in their terror. "It is a good feeling. Once I have not know in so long! It is... resplendent!"
But even as Mina was terrified beyond words, she couldn't shake off a completely different, strange feeling in the back of her head. "Hey, wait a minute..." she mumbled.
"It is a glorious feeling! The sweat down your necks! The shaking of your nubile little knees!" The voice spoke. "I've felt it many times before, but it never dulls!"
"That voice..." Mina muttered as the cogs in her brain slowly began to turn, and the picture started to become a little more clear.
"You thought you could enter my domain! Tarnish it! Vandalize it! But you never thought I would lurking within the shadows! Waiting like a carnivorous spider! With you in my web!" The voice laughed. "You thought monsters were imaginery, didn't you? That you could protect yourselves from your deepest, darkest nightmares using only your delusions! But you were - WRONG!"
It finally clicked, and suddenly the fear in Mina's heart was wiped away like so much nasty grime on a kitchen counter.
The shadowy figure rose from the mysterious fog, looming over the petrified brats and casting an overpowering shadow over their trembling forms. All of their eyes swelled up like dinner plates. They were all absolutely horrified - all, except for Mina. Whose face had become pure stone.
"The Shadow Man from my nightmares!" Nick cried like a BIG FAT BABY. "He is real!"
The Count let out a ghasty "HSSS!" and the entire group let out a piercing scream. Even as Mina stood there giving the Count the stink eye, the rest of the crew ran away hailing like mad, straight down the darkened cave walls and out the entrance.
"What about Mina?!" Trit screeched as she stopped at the exit.
"She's already dead!" Nick screamed as he grabbed Trit by the arm and ran off.
Igor was looking on from the distance, laughing his evil little heart out and kicking wildy. He loved it! It was splendid! After all these grueling, miserable (and not in the way he liked) years, Igor had finally reawoken the monster inside his master. It was glorious! unfortunately for that spiteful little hunchback, all that glitters wasn't gold. The giggling and hollering stopped when he realized his worst fears had still come true - Mina was still there.
"Oh, no..." said Igor in an exhausted huff.
The Count hissed and waved his arms around, bearing his teeth and doing all sorts of ridiculous thing to look frightening, but no matter what he did, no matter how he shook himself all around, Mina continued to just stand there, completely unimpressed.
"Bluh! Bluh! Boo! Yargh! Eek!" The Count made strange, confused noises with his mouth. "...Bluh! Boo! ...Argh?"
"Hey, Count." Mina sighed. "It's nice to see you again."
"...You, know my name?" The Count asked.
"Of course I do." She shrugged.
"And you're... not afraid of me?" He asked.
"Why would I be?" She said.
And right at that very moment, the Count felt a strange little thing crawl up his face that had mostly alluded him all these years - a smile! Also, a millipede. But he just slurped that up like spaghetti and went right back to smiling.
"Now, if you'll excuse me..." said Mina as she draped Martha's unconcious, limp body over her shoulder. "I have to get out of here, wait for Nick to realize I'm not dead and come pick us up."
With that, Mina walked right out of Tremorton Caverns, her easily startled friend in tow. The Count smiled as he watched his friend walked away. Igor, meanwhile merely shuffled over next to his master, a beaten, hollow, defeated mess.
"Did you see?! Did you see?!" A delighted Count turned to his short little friend.
"Yes, Master, I saw..." Groaned Igor.
"I can't believe it! You were wrong!" He squealed like a girl. "After all these years, I finally have a new human friend!"
"New human...?" Igor muttered.
Igor slowly started to connect the dots in his head, and realized his master didn't even know it was Mina he just talked to. Right there, whatever faith he had in the Count's intelligence, little as though it may be, drained right away.
"Let's just go home." Igor groaned. He would have said something, but all the hope and care in his black, beady little heart had long since abandoned him.
"Hold on!" The Count insisted. "I have to get her number.
"Do you even have a phone?" Igor questioned.
"Nah." The Count shrugged. "By I think one of those Dominican guys did. We can steal it on the way home when we kill them."
"Wait, what?"
The Count and Igor emerged from the darkened caverns into the blissful moonlight. The Count's heart, for the first time in years, was absolutely overflowing with joy. He just couldn't stop talking abou the wonderful new friend he made. It had only been like ten minutes and it was already becoming insanely obnoxious.
"What do you think her favorite TV show? What's her favorite movie?" The Count said. "Ooh! I hope it's Mean Girls!"
"I don't know, master!" Igor groaned.
"Do you think she likes board games? or Dolls?" He asked.
"I'm pretty sure she's like, seventeen." Igor saiid, sassily.
"O-oh. That's okay!" The Count exclaimed! "We can do other stuff too! Whatever she likes, I'll like!"
"I'm just so happy, Igor!" The Count said as he wiped a single tear from his cheek. "After all these years, I finally have a human friend again!"
"Is that her over there?" Igor asked, pointing off into the distance.
Over on a grassy knoll a few yards away from the caves, Mina sat brooding on top of a rock, her friend Martha was still unconcious, carefully laid on the extra jacket Mina brought over, she know looked less like a shambled, limp mess and more like a person sleeping just a little too comfortably for a person lying on top of a pile of grass, dirt and a gaudy member's only jacket hastily grabbed from a thrift store's "clearance" box. Mina herself wasn't looking too good. Her head rested in her hand and a scowl was drawn across her puffy little face. But even as her eyes were squinted in rage and her brow was wrinkled, she still looked incredibly sad.
"Uh... yes?" The Count guessed. "Yeah, that's her."
"Because she looks sad as crap." Igor shrugged. Far past the point of caring.
The Count looked on with sympathy. His new friend looked absolutely miserable - and how could any self respecting lord of the night let his new best friend feel sad? It was an outrage! An outrage, I tell you! Thinking quickly, the Count dug in cowl and pulled out some pocket change.
"Here you go, Igor." The Count said as he tossed the cash over to his little hunchbacked friend. "Take a cab home."
"Well what about how?" Igor said as he tucked the cash into his pocket.
"I still have work to do." The Count nodded. He once again disappeared into a puff of mist and slinked into the shadows.
The Count rematerialized right next to Mina. A normal child would have been horrified, or at least have acknowledged the weird thing that just happened, but Mina barely even reacted. He sat down right next to his depressed friend, with his heart and mind wide open.
"Hey." The Count said.
"Hey." Mina said back, looking over for barely a second.
"You haven't goine home yet?" The Count asked.
"I'm just waiting for my idiot boyfriend to realize I'm not dead and come back." Mina groaned.
"That doesn't sound like something a good boyfriend would do." The Count says.
"That's because it isn't." Mina griped. Rightfully so. "I thought maybe after dating him for a year or two he'd grow up or at least mellow out, but he's still the mean, dumb jerk who picked on me in first grade."
"Then why are you still dating him?" The Count questioned.
"Ugh, I don't know." Mina groaned. "I guess I thought I needed to have a boyfriend or people would look down on me. I know how stupid that sounds now, but that's been my whole life in a nutshell for the past five years. I feel like everything I've done is just to impress other people - and it's not like they actually care! They just wanna pick on people who are different, then ignore them when you do exactly what they want."
"I dunno, man..." Moan grumbled. "It just feels like I wasted so much time trying to impress people I didn't like because I felt so... alone. Like I had nobody to talk to."
"Well..." said the Count. "I'm here."
And at that moment, just like her long lost friend, Mina felt something crawl it's way up her cheeks that she hadn't felt in years either: a smile. And not a millipede. So, with that small gesture of kindness, a broken friendship had finally been mended. Mina and the Count finally talked again for the first time in half a decade, and it felt so good. In one big, cathartic strech, Mina was finally able to express all of her problems, doubts and frustrations - and the Count listened. No judgement. No advice. He simply listened to his friend and understood her. The pair talked for around ninety minutes, and by the end Mina had felt better than she had in a long time. She was laughing, even smiling.
"So I open the door to the closet, right? And there's this big, floppy trench coat there - and Nick thought it was a monster!" Mina said through a laugh. "Nick had me drive all the way down there 'cause he thought it was a monster!"
"What a weenie!" Giggled The Count. "That was a great story... uh..."
"Uh, what?" asked Mina.
"Ha! It's so crazy. We've been having so much fun I never even got your name."
"What? Count, you know my name!" Mina pleaded. "It's Mina. Mina Harper."
"Wow! Really? That's so crazy!" said the Count. "I had another human friend with that exact name! But that was, what? Five years?"
Mina starred blankly. It took a moment for the concept of what had just happened to click in her head, but eventually the cogs started turning, and she realized what happened. Then she got pretty annoyed.
"Count..." Mina uttered, lost in the ridiculousness of it all. "It's me, Mina."
"I know. Mee-Nah. I pronounced it right." The oblivious Count replied.
"No, I mean it's me. Mina Harper. THAT Mina Harper." she said.
"Wait, I think there's some confusion." said the Count. "You couldn't be..."
"Remember when we had to appear before the supreme ghoul court because they found out we were friends?" asked Mina. "Remember when I revived a frog and he ran amuk all over the school?"
"MINA?"
Theeeere it is.
The Count had spent a good two friggin' hours talking to the moody teenage girl, never realize once that it was his old friend. And that's pretty ridiculous because there were some really obvious hints.
"Were you really making that cake for Igor's birthday? Because I thought you told me monsters didn't like human food."
"My sister is STILL obsessed with you after all these years! Even though she's an archaeologist now and lives halfway across the world, she still asks me if you're still around. You remember my sister Lucy, right?"
"I got my driver's license just last year - check it out! 'Mina Harper, 413 Pattinson Way. Sex: F, Age: 17.' Cool, huh?"
Really, it should have been pretty obvious. The Count was absolutely shocked, just like he had no right to be. Because it was obvious, as I had previously stated.
"Y-you can't be Mina!" The Count insisted. "Mina was a little girl!"
"I got older." she said. "Humans do that."
"But Mina had a had of beautiful red hair! Your hair is black!"
"I dyed it. It's a style. It's called goth."
"Mina was a sweet, innocent little girl with a heart of gold! You're fairly tall and at times can be a bit self-absorbed."
Mina's face slumped into a grimace. It was not a good day for her ego. Right at that perfect, awkward and horrible moment, Nick's crappy car came pulling in on the side of the road. "Thank god." Mina groaned. She turned over to her friend Martha and shook her by the shoulder.
"Hey Martha?" Mina gently said. "Nick's here, we can leave here."
"Huuuuh?" Martha gurgled as she slowly came to.
She caught a brief sight of the Count, and fell right back down, unconcious.
"Oh, Martha." The Count sighed. "Online collage is gonna eat you alive."
"Welp." Mina said as shestood up, picked up Martha and slumped her over her shoulder. "It's been great seeing you again, Count, but my terrible boyfriend is here and it's getting late."
"Oh no, it's fine." said the Count. "I understand. You have a life and school and other stuff to deal with. I know I shouldn't get used to this."
That last little comment filled Mina's bitter little heart with a dropkick of guilt. Before she could say anything, the Count quickly turned into a bat and flew off. Mina sighed and carried her friend over to Nick's car. Nick was a trembling, shivering mess of a loser. He ripped open the door of his car and fell flat on his face. Mina open one of the backdoors and plopped her friend in the backseat before turning her attention to Nick.
"Oh, Mina! Er..." Nick stumbled out as he slowly got back on his feet. "Look, about what happened. See, it looked like I was running away but I wasn't! I was trying to get some... goblin army. And instead-"
"Nick, don't bother." said Mina. "It's fine. Let's just go home.
"Okay! Okay!" said Nick. "Great idea! We'll go home and we definitely won't cry ourselves to sleep."
Nick quicky ran over to the driver's seat and ran inside. In his nervous stupidity (as opposed to his usual stupidity) he tripped and fell face first right into the dashboard. Mina sighed heavily, counting all the days in her head that she wasted dating this guy. He shuffled around and eventually made his way into the driver's seat. Mina hoped in the backseat, instead of the passenger's. Nick almost said something, but he realized how much trouble he was already in, so he held his tongue.
Because Nick's car was such a pile of turds, it never started up on the first try. The engine always made that hideous grinding noise, like the engine was stalling and falling apart at the same time. It gave Mina a minute to think, and a minute to mope. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, Mina say a little bat flying down. It landed at the open window.
"Psst, Mina!"
The bat was, of course, the Count. But I'm pretty sure I didn't need to tell you that. But I wasted my precious time informing you anyway, because I enjoy the sound of my own voice. I start small fires and torture my pets with smooth jazz. My wife hates me. They don't let me in the library anymore. But of course, none of this is relevant to anything. I have been reprimanded for this behaviour before.
"Minaaa!" The Count loudly whispered.
"What, Count?" Mina groaned, looking down at her little bat friend.
"Are we... friends again?"
Mina let out yet another heavy sigh. But even still, she couldn't help but smile.
"Yes.' Mina said, clearly and unequivocally. A warm smile on her face, and a sincere, rare happiness in her eyes. "No question about it. We're friends."
The Count smiled back, fighting back tears from his little bat face as he wiped them away with his wing. In that moment, just seeing the little girl smile after all these years, even after she had grown older, jaded and bitter, seeing the happiness in her pearly little eyes wiped all the years of misery and sadness from his heart right away in an instant. Everything that was wrong had finally been made right.
Suddenly, Nick's awful car finally started up and took off. The Count was shaken up a bit, but managed to regain composure and fly off. Mina watched him fly away, and her smile didn't fade. Even though things were going crazy, and life would never like it was, and Nick was still a major butthole she was going to break it off week come the end of the week, things were finally going decidedly well for her for the first time in what felt like a decade.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mina caught a glimpse of the Count's manner. She remembered all the fun adventures she had in that rotting old castle, and how great those years were. But she wasn't mourning them. Because for the first time in quite awhile, she knew there would be plenty more adventures ahead of her.
"Many people will walk in and out of your life, But only true friends will leave footprints in your heart."
- Eleanor Roosevelt
[Fin]