The window popped open almost as soon as she touched it. She recoiled momentarily, the familiar smell of preservatives wafting out the open window and into the outside air. Resolving to ignore the stench and press on, Scully clambered through the window frame and into the darkness.
Brandon crept up the stairs, closing the trap door behind him. The flashlight's bouncing beam was practically a searchlight in the darkness, providing unnecessary illumination. Brandon could see quite well in the faint light of the moon; picking out the small woman's outline was child's play. He strode confidently towards her, casually avoiding what night-blind humans would have tripped over. He was mere meters away…
"Ahh!" Brandon cried, shielding his eyes from the sudden luminescence. The artificial glow of fluorescent lights flooded the basement, too fast for his wide-open pupils to react. Scully spun, her hand moving rapidly from the light switch to her weapon.
"Federal officer! Put your hands out where I can see them! Now!"
Deciding to humor her, as the gun was no threat, he solemnly did as she asked and waited to see if she'd say what he had bet himself she would say next.
"Where's my partner?! What did you do with him?!"
He looked her in the eyes and deliberately said, "He was delicious."
Brandon messed with the wrong woman.
The Holy Water came out of her pocket; she flipped the lid off with her thumbnail, and splashed the contents across his face and chest in one very swift move.
Shrieking in agony, the vampire's skin seemed to liquefy, dripping down in thick streams of salmon colored ooze. Scully backed away in disgusted satisfaction, feeling an almost gleeful sense of vengeance in the perp's pain.
Brandon looked up, evergreen eyes glowing supernaturally, and snarled; his jawbone protruding from the melted-wax of his skin.
"I lied." He rasped out, a fiery spark of maliciousness burning brightly. "He's alive, but now you'll never find him. YOU killed him."
Scully's eyes widened in horror at the words; then she squinted and gritted her teeth, enraged. She snatched up a handful of Brandon's unsoiled shirt and yanked him towards her.
"Tell me were he is." She growled, voice low and ominous. He laughed. Like a horror movie skeleton come to life, his hollow cheekbones stretched wider than possible, no longer constrained by muscle and tendon.
"Tell me!" She screamed, shaking the loose collection of bones and liquid.
"He'll suffocate, alone in the dark. He's almost out of time." Brandon whispered, twisting the knife.
Scully pulled on his shirt once more and abruptly fell backwards, the empty garment flapping with the movement. He was gone; disappeared, dissipated, vaporized. Whatever you would call it; the man had vanished, leaving Scully with a pile of clothes and no idea where to look next.