Chanting in the dark…

In the centre of a low lit chamber was a circle formed from nine cloaked men. Between them was a ray of machinery all hooked to one device. Pipes and cabling hung from the ceiling like serpents ready to strike from above. The chanting was otherworldly, not quite demonic but more like words of praise and celebration. This chanting increased as another figure approached the green light emanating from the machine.

He raised his stretched out hand in the air as if he was presenting it to the crowd. More men and women revealed themselves, stepping forward and allowing the green light to reveal their darkened silhouettes. The central figure suddenly dropped his hand onto the machine. It roared into life. Power seeped from the figure's fingers, powering the great machine. He felt the strain of it, his own life force growing weaker from the act.

Green smoke rose above them. When it cleared, a man was lying atop the machine. The chanting came to a stop as he opened his eyes. He took a deep breath. Shock and awe flooded his mind as he saw his hands. He sat up and saw the suit he was wearing.

"A long time has passed. I've waited. You're rest has ended and now… we have work to do."

…

The night breeze swept across the sky. The clouds continued to roll along, as if they were carried on the current of blissful silence. That was until laughter and the flutter of wings broke it. Two bats soared through the moonlight. It had become a common sight above the high walls of Hotel Transylvania.

"I'm going to catch you this time!" Mavis called after her son.

"Not this time! I'm too quick for you!" The excited young hybrid shouted back.

It was not the first time they had chased each other across the Romanian sky. Dennis Dracula-Loughran hoped it would not be the last. At first Mavis had been more than a little ill at ease letting him fly at such speed, but he had quickly proven his competence. Their chase took them through the rear graveyard and above the great mausoleum that had been built there over twenty years prior. A sudden rush of adrenaline hit Mavis as she realised her son was heading straight for the closed gate.

"Dennis!" She called out.

He didn't slow down. With a crafty grin, he pulled in his wings and span through the air. He missed the gate completely, passing through two of its solid bars. Mavis was astounded. He was getting faster and cheekier by the day.

"Woah! That's my boy!" She heard the voice of her husband from the hotel entrance.

Mavis picked up speed, determined not to let her son beat her at a game she had been playing for over a century.

"I'm catching up!" She taunted.

"Uh oh."

Dennis flew more erratically to lose her. He performed a back flip and soared under the bridge.

"Got you now!" Mavis transformed and stood over the edge of the bridge, but Dennis didn't appear.

She grinned when she heard his wings behind her.

"Ha ha!" he laughed as he headed back towards the forest that protected the castle.

Now Mavis had the advantage. She knew the forest far better than Dennis did. She made sure he couldn't see her to give him a false sense of security. He came to a cave entrance and transformed.

"Looks like I win again!"

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

"It."

He looked up at her.

"Oh!" He complained.

"Actually, it looks like I win! Still the best!" She praised herself.

"Not likely!" Another bat soared directly down towards them.

They both took off.

"I'm gonna get you!" Now Dracula was in on the act.

Mavis and Dennis worked as a team to confuse him. He couldn't catch both of them after all. They found a trench under an ancient tree and used the darkness to conceal them. Dracula was soon standing directly above them, still unsure as to where they were. Suddenly, the old tree stretched out a branch, its end the shape of a hand. It pointed straight at them.

"It!" Dracula said as he poked both of them.

"Oh no fair!" Dennis moaned.

"You forget, this is my forest."

He fist bumped the tree.

"You've still got it dad. Even if you are getting a little old." Mavis teased.

"What? Nonsense! I feel like a two hundred year old! Look at me!" he showed off the muscles in his arms.

"Yeah, with grey hairs." She joked.

His face showed panic.

"Where!?" He scratched at his hair.

Both Mavis and Dennis roared in laughter.

"I can't have grey hair! It's impossible! If I could see myself in a mirror I would so prove you wrong!"

"Sure dad, I know your age is a bit of a grey area, I won't mention it again…"

She and Dennis couldn't help but burst out laughing again.

"You know, you're not too old for the naughty corner Mavey."

She still had memories of that. If the boredom and loneliness didn't get you down, the flesh eating gargoyle on the wall certainly did. They headed back towards the hotel, their game finished.

"Did you see what I did, Vampa!? I flew through the gate!" Dennis boasted.

"I sure did! Where did you learn that Dennisovich?"

"I practiced when Mum wasn't watching!"

Mavis wasn't happy about that.

"Dennis, you know what I told you about trying dangerous stunts when no one is watching." She said to him lightly.

"Someone was watching. The Zombie staff watched!" he smiled innocently at her.

"Oh, I feel so relieved." She said sarcastically.

"Lighten up Mavis! Dennisovich is a true champ at flying! A Dracula through and through! Just as I told you from the start."

She nodded in agreement. Deep down she still hadn't forgiven him for throwing Dennis off of the tower at Camp Winnepacaca. The decade that had passed had at least helped her to accept the reasons why.

"Speaking of Draculas. Is it just me, or is a special day coming up soon?" Dracula teased his grandson.

Dennis' eyes were wide open with an expression of overexcitement on his face.

"I think it's just you, in your old age!" Mavis laughed.

Dracula made his usual upside down smile.

"No Mavey-Wavey, I'm not going grey! Blah, blah, blah!" Dennis imitated his grandfather.

"I still have that gargoyle you know." He told them. They were quiet after that.

"We better get back before the others trash the place. I'm still picking bits of sand out of the carpet again."

Dracula felt his phone ring in his cloak pocket. It had taken many years but the group had finally trained Dracula in the art of mobile communication, much to his pain.

"It's Frank. What's he done now?"

Dracula opened the text and looked at the photo Frank had sent him. His severed head was resting on one of the library shelves making a funny face to the camera.

"Hashtag shelfie." The Count read out loud. He just groaned.

…

Another pair of eyes opened. The darkened room was lit up with flames of destroyed machinery. He felt drained. It was like something had sucked the life from him. He groaned in pain.

"What on Earth was that?" He heard a blurred voice.

"That was a sign that our search continues." Another, much more menacing voice.

"What exactly is this thing?" he didn't know if they were talking about him, or something else.

"An aftereffect of what has happened to him. He's useless to me now. Destroy him."

He heard screams and the sound of breaking bones. Then all noise suddenly stopped.

"What now!?" The first voice spoke again.

"It seems I was wrong. There may be some use after all."

Memories flooded back in a flash. Without looking to see if the coast was clear, he dived off of the table and ran towards the exit.

"Kill him!" Commanded the first voice.

He came to a labyrinth of corridors. It was all familiar to him. He knew he didn't have long with his pursuers on his trail. He headed into a back room. He just prayed that everything was still there. To his luck, it was. He claimed a pair of jeans, a jacket and two silenced pistols. It would have to do. The sound of chanting echoed through the halls around him. Now was not the time to die. A time of sorrow was chasing him, and it would not stop for anything…