"Just ten more minutes. I'm about to re-spawn," said Claire in her charming British accent. She stood at the end of a row of other, equally intense, players. It was a demo, and a good one. Claire had moved to LA from England the year before. This was her first Comic-Con. She had spent all summer learning to sew so she could wear a perfectly accurate Hogwarts uniform to her first convention.
"We want to find good seats," Reagan insisted, hands on hips. She wore a black tank top and red leather pants, wooden stake in hand.
"Your highness," said a nasal voice from behind the girls. They turned around. Several hobbits were bowing to their friend Alicia. Alicia was six feet tall and dressed as Arwen Undómiel, Elvish Princess from The Lord of the Rings. She was hard to miss.
Alicia curtsied and the hobbits scampered off, happily.
"That's so unfair," said Claire. "Why do you always get 'your highness,' and I always get "I'll Dumbledore your Harry Potter?"
"We don't have time for this," said Reagan.
Claire sighed as she set down the controller. The three friends rushed to the lecture hall, flashed their tickets and slipped in.
"Where shall we sit?" asked Alicia, sweetly, as she asked everything.
Reagan scanned the room.
"There!" said Reagan.
Before the others could argue, Reagan had slipped into the back row next to a good-looking, older guy in a trench coat. Her hand was immediately on his forearm, her lips in his ear, whispering.
The man looked Reagan over after she had accosted him. His brow knitted but he was clearly doing his best to humor her. The other two girls rolled their eyes and sat down next to Reagan.
A moment later and two other guys, John and Gene, slid into the empty seats next to Conner.
Gene was 17, thin, 6'2", in a Deerstalker Cap and Inverness Cape, a pipe hanging from his lips, unlit.
John wore a gray coat and a pretty convincing Edward Cullen haircut. John and Gene had been best friends since kindergarten. John treated Gene more like a sidekick than a friend but, deep down, he'd take a bullet for Gene.
"Just in time," said Conner, loosening his already loose tie.
"John Kirkpatrick?" cried Reagan in disgust.
"Reagan Vix?" said John, astonished.
Reagan was horrified.
"If you tell anyone you saw me here, you're dead!" she exclaimed. "And if you tell anyone I dress like Buffy, I'll kill you again!"
"Ah, Buffy! Of course," said John.
Gene looked over at the girls.
"Buffy Summers, Hermione Granger, and Arwen Undómiel," said Gene.
"Wow," said Reagan, dryly, "you really are a deductive genius. My turn. Sherlock Holmes, Zoolander, creepy flasher dude."
Conner's brow knitted tighter as he looked over at Reagan.
"Not that I wouldn't like a peak under that trench coat," said Reagan with a wink.
"How old are you?" said Conner.
"Seventeen," said Reagan, "but I like older guys."
"I'm thirty-one," said Conner.
"God!" Reagan shrieked, "You're old!"
Conner rolled his eyes. A moment later and the emcee took the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced with a squeal from the speakers. Unfortunately, Adam Baldwin has called in at the last minute and is unable to make it, but the rest of the Firefly cast is here as advertised. Please, give it up for Captain Malcolm Reynolds…"
"No!" shouted the entire back row.
"We were pretty much just here to see Adam Baldwin," said Hermione.
John turned to the girls, "Us too. Do you guys want to get out of here?"
The girls nodded and they all snuck out of the lecture hall.
"You know what, guys," said Conner, "we really should get going, actually. It was nice meeting you girls."
"Wait," said Reagan, "I don't even know your name."
"Conner Kirkpatrick," said Conner.
"He's dressed as Castiel," said John.
"Castiel!" exclaimed all three girls.
"That's cool," said Reagan, having regained her composure, "We, uh… we think Castiel is pretty cool."
"Thanks," said Conner. "Edward Cullen here is my little brother, John Kirkpatrick, whom I guess you know, and Holmes there is his best buddy, Gene Pendleton, whom I assume you also know."
"Edward Cullen?" said Reagan with a chuckle. "You are moody I guess. Wait… is that why your hair's always like that? That's hilarious. Well, I'm Reagan Vix…"
"I can't believe the hottest girl in school dresses up like Buffy," said John.
Reagan's eyes darted over. John could feel them piercing into him.
"Was that out loud?"
"Don't be alarmed, my dear," said Gene, "It only makes you more attractive."
"To nerds!" said Reagan.
The boys nodded.
"Anyway," Reagan continued, "I'm Reagan Vix, Hermione here is Claire Peterson, and Princess Arwen is Alicia Wesson. Alicia and I have been friends for years. Claire is Alicia's friend, but I like her. The English accent is pretty cool."
"Charming," said Claire.
"Anyway," said Reagan, "where are you three going?"
"I was thinking we should get some rest for tomorrow," said Conner. "We're going to be getting up pretty early for a Sherlock Holmes workshop Gene really wants to go to."
"What hotel are you guys staying at?" asked Claire.
"Well, actually, we didn't book a hotel," said John.
"Staying with friends?" said Claire.
"No, no. We, uh…"
"We're camping in a cemetery," said Conner.
The girls' jaws dropped.
"Gene read that there is a very haunted, rather poorly guarded cemetery just outside of town. We all thought it would be fun if we stayed there."
"That is awesome!" shouted Reagan. "We're totally staying with you guys!"
"What? No we're not!" Claire declared, pulling Reagan aside.
"Claire, if we stay in the cemetery, you can cuddle up to Edward Cullen," argued Reagan.
"John? I don't like John. I kind of like Castiel, though."
"Ugh, fine. I'll let you have one side of him."
Claire's angered face froze, then lightened. "Good."
"I didn't say I was cool with this," said Alicia.
Reagan looked at Alicia, perturbed.
"Oh, fine," said Alicia.
Reagan turned to the boys. "I'm riding with you guys. Cool?"
John and Gene turned to each other, surprised and thrilled. Conner sighed.
The cars pulled up to the side of the road, the engines shut off, and they all got out. The cemetery was covered in a thick mist that they hadn't noticed anywhere else in San Diego that night. Everything was eerily quiet, as if they'd driven into the mountains in the middle of winter. The only sound was the crunch of the gravel beneath their feet as the girls grabbed their sleeping bags.
The group was soon following Conner to the campsite. The guys wielded flashlights, the girls, iPhones. The girls' lights were brighter.
"You have a little stove and everything!" said Claire, now a bit excited.
"I went camping a lot as a kid," said Conner. "Since we can't light a fire, I figured we could at least roast marshmallows over the propane stove."
"Oh, that's so cute," said Reagan.
"So the thirty-one years old thing hasn't put you off?"
"I'm over it," said Reagan.
Conner sighed and shook his head.
The girls rolled their sleeping bags out and the guys prepared for making s'mores.
"Let's go vampire hunting!" said Reagan, tugging at Conner's coat.
"What?" said Conner, annoyed.
"That's so freaking hot," said John.
Reagan glared at John.
"That was out loud again, wasn't it?"
"Come on," said Reagan to Conner. "I promise it'll be, like, super fun."
"You know vampires aren't real, right?" said Conner.
"Maybe they are. Maybe they aren't," said Reagan. "We'll never know unless we go hunting."
"Yeah, okay," said Conner. "Might be kind of fun. Who's in?"
No one else was interested. Conner looked over at Reagan who was smiling, waiting.
"Fine," said Conner.
Conner walked to Alicia and picked up her bow and arrows.
"Mind if I borrow these?"
"You're Castiel," said Alicia. "Can't you just touch a vampire and he'll burn away?"
"This is true," said Conner, and he set the bow and arrows down.
A few moments later, Conner and Reagan were walking through the cemetery, out of sight of the others.
"It's so foggy," said Conner. "It's shocking."
"Yep," said Reagan.
They walked a little further in silence.
"You don't seem to be looking very hard for vampires," said Conner.
"Nope," said Reagan.
"Where's your stake?"
"Left it at camp."
Conner stopped.
"Left it at camp? How are you going to kill vampires? I guess we should go back."
Reagan jumped up onto a waist-high family monument.
"Like you said, vampires aren't real," she said as she paced atop the giant slab of granite.
Conner was exasperated.
"Come on, Reagan. Let's get back."
Casually, Reagan walked to the edge of the monument, turned around, and back-flipped off, onto the ground below.
Conner couldn't help but be impressed. He smiled.
"Okay, that was kind of amazing," he said.
"Head cheerleader," Reagan shrugged. "You've got to be agile."
Reagan advanced on Conner, seductively.
"You also have to be very limber. Not to mention... perky."
Reagan took Conner's tie and drew him toward her, putting her lips against his.
Conner's eyes widened, his heart raced. This was not acceptable. Before he could push her away, though, they heard voices, and Reagan pulled away from him.
"What's that?" she whispered.
Conner shushed her as he wiped her lipstick from his mouth.
"Don't ever do that again," whispered Conner.
"What? Kiss you?"
"Yes."
"You didn't like it?"
"That's not the point," said Conner.
Reagan grabbed Conner's arm and crept off toward the voices. It soon became clear that it was two men, haggling. Conner lead Reagan around a small mausoleum and the two peered around, spying the two men. They were in business suits. One was disheveled, the other, perfectly kempt.
They strained to hear the men, when suddenly a hand grabbed hold of Reagan's shoulder. Her heart jumped and she swung around. It was Claire. The rest of the gang was with her.
"What are you doing here?" Reagan whispered, angrily.
"We got scared," said Claire.
"There are four of you and two of us," said Reagan.
Claire looked over to John.
"We don't have an answer for that," said John.
"Well, keep quiet," said Reagan. "These two guys are in the middle of the cemetery making a deal and I'm trying to eavesdrop."
"Whoa! Creepy!" said Alicia.
"Right?" said Reagan. "Now shush."
"…and you agree to forfeit your soul at the end of your life," said the well-kempt man, "no less than seven years from the day, no more than forty, and the death must not be directly nor indirectly caused by me."
The gang pulled back from the edge of the mausoleum.
"I'm I hearing what I think I'm hearing?" said Claire.
"This has got to be a Comic-Con thing," said John.
"Should we walk up to them or something?" said Alicia.
The rest of the gang looked over at her in disbelief.
"Well, I wasn't thinking me, personally," said Alicia.
The gang moved back into eavesdropping position, but by now the disheveled man was scurrying off into the mist and the well-kempt man was gone. The gang all pulled away from the edge again and let out a deep sigh. But as they turned around, they saw, standing before them, the well-kempt man.
The gang all screamed (even Conner).
"Good evening," said the well-kempt man. "I noticed you all approaching whilst I was in the midst of my negotiation. And now you have all seen something of the other world, a glimpse of that which men are never meant to see. The question is, what shall I do about it."
The well-kempt man pondered his own question a moment while the group stood by, silently, in fear and awe.
"You're all far to pure to dispose of, your souls will all be lost to me," said the well-kempt man. "Even the pedophile has a clear conscience. How very disappointing."
Conner looked side to side, suddenly feeling quite guilty.
The well-kempt man thought about it again.
"I know," he said, finally. "For your infraction you shall, from this day forth, walk the earth, privy to all supernatural goings on. You shall see, and hear, and smell, and feel all things that ordinary men cannot, that which goes on every day, but they you do not naturally perceive. Yes. This is the consequence. You should all find yourselves in my company soon enough, I suspect."
The well-kempt man then laughed, and dissolved into smoke.
The gang screamed, again (even Conner).
A few weeks later, the gang met at Bar Marmont. They had each witnessed small supernatural phenomenon since that night in the cemetery, oddities, things to make them question their own sanity.
As Gene was addressing the group, the music slowed. So did the waiters. Soon all was silent, frozen. The gang rose from their chairs, astonished. They walked around the place. Everything was fixed in time; a beer being poured, the flames in the candles, everything. Outside the hotel, every car was stopped. Ambulance lights were frozen.
"Have any of you ever seen anything like this?" asked Claire.
They hadn't. It was fascinating and terrifying. And they had no idea what to do. Conner gazed out at a perfectly still Sunset Strip.
"Oh, boy."