Fright Night:
New Blood
Ch. 1: Family Reunion
Roxanne pulled up to the driveway of the townhouse, nervously gripping the steering wheel as she came to a complete stop. The red head sniffed the air once or twice and caught a familiar scent: roasting meat.
"Ah," she sighed, "mom's barbequing again." She sniffs again.
"Is that lamb I smell?" she asked herself with hope. Roxanne shut the door of her sport car and walked up to the door step. She rapped on the door three times and turned around in place, taking a quick glance at the other houses behind her while patiently waiting for an answer; she got one as a friendly face opened the door and smiled in surprise. She smiled back.
"Hi, mom," Roxanne said with a big grin. Jane Brewster hugged her older daughter like the day she left.
"Oh my God, it feels like it's been ages since you left!" she said excitedly as Roxanne nodded.
"So, how've you been? What've you been up to?" her mother asked with curiosity.
"Oh, nothing much..." she shrugged. Then, she smiled.
"...I only graduated college four years early!" Roxanne stated happily. Christine gasped in shock.
"Oh my God, congratulations!" she squealed with joy as she hugged her daughter. Jane held Roxanne by her arms and sighed.
"Just wait until your brother hears about this," she smiled. Roxanne nodded in agreement.
"Yeah," she acknowledged, "It'll be nice to see Charlie again," Roxanne admitted with a slight smile. She stepped back and folded her arms across her chest.
"You guys moved?" Roxanne asked curiously. Her mother bit her lip in a voluntary manner as she briefly nodded in agreement.
"What happened to our old house?" she asked. Jane made a three second pause before answering and smiled.
"I'll tell you about it later," she answered.
"When will that be?" Roxanne asked as she walked past her mother.
"When I stop getting nightmares from it," Jane said grimly. Hearing that statement, Roxanne whipped around and faced her as she raised a brow and gave her a quizzical look.
"Was it REALLY that bad?" she asked with emphasis on really. Her mother leaned forward and whispered in her ear:
"You have NO IDEA," Jane said sternly. Roxanne turned in place as she watched her mother walk out to the porch. When Jane was sure she was out of earshot, she whispered quietly to herself:
"And I pray you never will."
Roxanne stopped in the door way and placed her hands on the frame. Tilting her head back, she smiled as she took in the familiar smell of a home style barbeque. Walking onto the open patio, she made her way to the grill where her mother stood.
"Who's that?" Roxanne asked as she nodded her head in the direction of the stranger.
"Oh," Christine said, "you mean him?" she answered. Roxanne nodded.
"That's Peter Vincent. You know; 'Peter Vincent: Vampire Slayer!'" A look of confusion crossed the red heads' face; unsure of what to make of her mothers' enthusiasm. Slightly frustrated, Jane sighed and decided to try a different tactic.
"'Welcome to Fright Night'?" she stated with hope. Then, she had an epiphany:
"Oh, yeah, I remember now! The Las Vegas performer guy with the weird-looking hair cut?" Jane gave the twenty five year old the thumbs up as she smiled.
"It may be 'weird looking' to some people," Peter stated defensively in a playful manner with his British accent as he walked over to them, "but it gets the ladies' attention," he smiled.
"Peter, this my daughter, Roxanne," Jane introduced them to one another, "Roxanne, this is-"
"-Peter Vincent, 'the vampire slayer,'" Roxanne interrupted, "I've heard a lot about you and your stage performances," she smiled.
"The stage isn't the only place I perform," he suggested as he smiled.
"You don't say?"
The famous Las Vegas performer suddenly grunted in pain when Charlie elbowed him as a sign to be silent. He wisely obliged in his 'request'.
Give or take seven hundred miles away in New Orleans, an unseen dark figure sits in the middle of a pentagram surrounded by thirteen lit candles, with a gallon of human blood (most likely an offering) and a five-hundred year old worn book. In front of him: a skull on the wall, a silver charm necklace and a bucket worth of ashes spread out horizontally on a stone alter.
As the sorcerer chanted from his spell book in Latin, the ashes began to form on table before the black magic practitioner. When it settled a few moments later, a dead body took the place of the ashes: slightly pale skin, night black hair, arms folded over the chest and eyes shut. The sorcerer placed an I.V. tube through the dead mans' arm and the bag full of human blood began to steadily flow into his veins.
Ten seconds into the offering, the body suddenly sprang to life and let loose an ear piercing screech from within. Teeth bared, the blood-thirsty vampire violently grabbed hold of his victim and dug his fangs deep into his throat and ripped it out, spraying an excessive amount of blood onto the walls (he hadn't fed in months; it was a natural instinct to do what he had done).
The blood sucker jumped off the table and snatched the pitch black robe from the recently deceased sorcerer, spitting on his corpse in the process as he added insult to injury in Latin:
"Moron."
Just as he was about to leave, something shiny caught his eye: a beautiful sterling silver necklace; a snarling wolf head made of pure silver with yellow garnets for the piercing eyes. The immortal scratched his chin in deep consideration as he carefully weighed possible future scenarios, and finally decided to take it as a precaution. He also took a map of the U.S. and marked a certain state with a red Sharpie before leaving as he slammed the door behind him.