Omake Week 2015: That Omake Week thing worked out pretty well in 2014, so let's do it again! Like last year, I'm setting off the string of daily gag fics with another VHFMT entry!

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A/N: Having read Chapter 27, "Should've Noticed the Lack of Sparkles" before this one would probably be useful.

~X X X~

The full moon hung in the sky, sending out its dull yellow glow like the cycloptic eye of some eldritch horror. The poisonous gold hue shone forth over the large estate park behind the Western-style mansion, the elaborate house and grounds something that could have been transplanted from an English countryside. It was a dreadful night, and the white-bearded man knew better than most what sort of things crept forth beneath the moon's baleful light. He, beyond all men, knew the safety and security only found by locking the night outside solid and properly prepared doors.

Unfortunately, he also knew well why it was necessary to venture out beneath the moon, to tear at the earth with spade and mattock. He was aware that he made for a comic figure, short and stout, in his once-immaculate three-piece suit and patent-leather shoes, digging until he was gasping and sweating, and yet he knew there would be no relief in laughter. Not until his work was complete, work necessary for the good of all.

Then it happened. His shovel pushed through the last layer of dirt and struck against something hard, something that echoed hollowly. He dropped the shovel and fell to his knees, sweeping aside the dirt to reveal the smooth, black-painted wood of the coffin lid.

"Ja, found it, have I!" he gasped aloud in his excitement.

The man who called himself Abraham Arminius rose to his feet and clambered out of the hole, a task only possible because the coffin had not been buried the regulation six feet deep. His black leather doctor's bag was sitting at the edge of the grave, and he opened it to reveal the tools of his trade. One by one he set them out: drill to pierce the coffin, saw to cut it open, a sturdy mallet and fire-hardened wooden stake if the coffin's occupant had already completed her ghastly repast for the night and returned to her tomb, a packet containing the sanctified Host to sterilize the grave and deny her its rest if not. Taking up the drill, he was about to set to work when he was interrupted.

"That, I think, will be quite enough of that."

"Ah!" Arminius yelped in surprise and tottered on the edge of the pit, windmilling his arms like a penguin trying to fly. He barely kept his footing, managing to remain secure, and was able to see the woman that had surprised him. He had expected at the least some sort of security guard, if not—his worst fear—something far, far more threatening.

What he saw was a maid.

She was relatively tall, in her mid-twenties, with short, pale lavender hair. Her aproned uniform was sensible, clearly meant for work and not as some kind of fetish for her employers.

"I wanted to see what it was you were up to before I interrupted, but now that it's obvious, there's no point in letting you go any further. You must be that Arminius fellow. How did you convince the doctors to have you released from the institution?"

"You know of me and my work? Easier, this now becomes. I need not hold back for fear of harming an innocent, when it is clear you are a servant of the bloodthirsty Un-Dead!"

Arminius's hand dove into his jacket, and came out with a blued-steel revolver, .38 caliber from what the maid could tell at a glance. He leveled it at her and squeezed the trigger three times, sending three shells directly at the maid's heart.

Each bullet ricocheted off with a metallic clang.

"That," Noel Ehrlichkeit stated, "was extremely rude." She extended her right arm, fist clenched, towards the vampire hunter, who trembled in fear. What sort of horror was it he was facing? In the next second, the fist and forearm launched themselves at him, crashing into his chest with terrific force. Arminius staggered back, his foot found only empty air, and he fell into the grave where his head cracked hard against the coffin lid and merciful sleep rose to bring him peace from the horrors of the night.

Noel retracted her fist, the cable for the launch mechanism winding back up so that her arm automatically locked back together.

"Noel, I heard shots! Did you see what set off the alarm?"

Noel turned to see her sister Falin coming up alongside. The second maid was shorter, had longer hair, and a younger-looking face, but was otherwise identical to her sibling.

"I did. It appears to have been that lunatic who attacked Miss Bannings last October, believing her to be a vampire. He was attempting to dig up her body, though whether he expected to find her I cannot speculate."

"Do you think we should tell her? It's hard enough for her, dying and becoming a ghost without learning that some lunatic is digging up her grave."

"I will leave it to Miss Suzuka's judgment, but I believe for myself that we should, as the coffin will need to be moved to a secure location before we report this matter to the authorities."

"Oh, that makes sense. Even though she doesn't need it for anything, Arisa really ought to know where she's buried. It's just basic good manners."

Noel chose not to respond. Falin didn't seem to notice, and just walked over to Arminius's fallen bag.

"And really," she continued, "I hope that they pick a better asylum this time. If they keep letting him get out, he might develop Arkham Syndrome. Especially since he really needs care from the look of it. There's a stake and mallet here, holy wafers, and in the bag there's garlic and what looks like holy water, and are those…silver bullets? I thought that was for werewolves? Anyone with these kind of delusions could be really dangerous. If he can't tell a ghost from a vampire, he might hurt innocent peoplaaargh!"

The strangled cry came because when Falin turned around, she'd stepped squarely on the stake, which had rolled under her foot, and she'd gone tumbling into the open hole.

"Are you all right, Falin?"

"I think so," came a voice from the grave. "I landed on something soft."

"Ah," Noel said. "Judging by the evidence, I would assume that to be his head. Please bring him with you when you come out of there."

"Maybe after he's raised up out of the grave by an inhuman power"—she was an android, after all—"he might not be quite as hostile to supernatural creatures?"

"…I believe Miss Yagami may be having a bad influence on you."

~X X X~

A/N: I really should do a sequel to "Blood & Spirit" one of these years…