Fangs A Lot-4

November 1

Chet Kelly walked into Station 51, looking as if he hadn't slept in a week. The Irishman's eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot from fatigue. Faint stubble covered his jaw and his curly hair stuck out in all directions. He entered the dayroom and poured himself a cup of much-needed coffee, then sat down at the table.

"Morning, Chet," greeted John Gage as he sauntered in. The paramedic stopped short when he saw his shift-mate's disheveled condition. "You okay, man?" he asked.

"No, Gage, I'm not okay," muttered Chet. "I didn't sleep a wink last night, worrying about Louisa." He pounded a fist on the table. "There has to be something we can do. We can't just leave her there in that place."

"We didn't have much of a choice, pal," put in Captain Stanley. "I don't know about you, but I was running for my life!"

"I still feel guilty, though," answered Kelly. "Poor Louisa. She's gotta spend eternity walking the Earth in search of blood just to stay alive."

Mike Stoker stood in the doorway, fighting to keep from laughing and giving away the prank. "I didn't see you trying to help her, Kelly!" he growled.

"What was I supposed to do, Mike?" replied the Irishman hotly. He dropped his head into his hands, his eyes focused on the table's gleaming surface. "This is all my fault," he lamented. "If I hadn't thrown that party, none of this would have happened."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, amigo," said Marco, patting his friend's shoulder. "You couldn't have known that there was a vampire lurking in the cellar."

"I don't care what any of you guys say! I'm going back there when we go off-duty tomorrow and prevent this from ever happening again!"

"What are you going to do, pal?" asked Hank, giving his crew a worried look. "It's not safe, Chet."

"I'm gonna nail that creep's coffin shut!" spat Kelly. He got up from the table and stormed out of the room.

"Great!" muttered Johnny. "If he does that, it'll ruin everything. We have to talk him out of it!"

"Yeah, but how?" asked Mike.

"We'll think of something," replied Gage. "Hey, Roy," he said to Desoto as the senior paramedic arrived. "I think we better talk to Brackett. Come on; let's head over to Rampart."

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Rampart

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," said Brackett when Roy and John filled him in about Chet's plans. "After all, isn't Louisa going to show up at the station tonight?"

"That was the plan, Doc," answered Roy. "I just hope we're not out on a run when she does."

"Tell you what, I'm off-duty at noon. I'll go over to that house and warn Louisa," said the doctor.

Before the paramedics could reply, the handy-talkie in Johnny's hand crackled to life. "Squad 51, man down, 2125 Crossett Boulevard; 2-1-2-5 Crossett, cross street Olympia, time out 08:45."

"Gotta run. See you later, Doc."

The doctor sighed, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "This prank is getting out of hand," he said to himself.

At noon, Brackett left the hospital and drove out to the old mansion where the Halloween party had been held the night before. He knocked on the front door and pushed it open. "Louisa! Are you here?" he shouted, his voice echoing eerily.

"Velcome to my lair," said Louisa, coming up behind him. "What's up, Doc?"

"Gage and Desoto dropped by my office earlier," answered Brackett. "Chet Kelly is planning on coming here tomorrow morning after their shift ends."

"So what's the problem?" asked the young woman, frowning slightly. "By that time, he'll know it was all an elaborate hoax."

"I just thought I should warn you. What time are you supposed to show up for your nightly 'feeding'?"

"I thought maybe around 11 o'clock. The guys should be asleep by then." Louisa grinned, revealing the fangs she had neglected to remove the night before. "Chester B. Kelly will never know what hit him!"

Brackett laughed. "I'll expect a full report tomorrow morning," he said. "And don't leave out any details."

"You got it! I told Johnny to keep his camera handy, so we can have a few photographs to remember this by."

"I better get going," said Brackett, looking at his watch. "I promised to take Dixie to the beach this afternoon. See you later."

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The day passed slowly for the crew of Station 51. Between the few calls they received, Chet prowled around nervously, jumping at every creak and groan he heard. By nightfall, the Irishman was thoroughly exhausted.

"I think I'll go to bed," he said, yawning loudly. Good night."

"Night, Chet," echoed the men. Johnny got up and stood in the doorway, watching as Chet went into the dorm, already unbuttoning his shirt.

"Okay, it's almost 10 o'clock," whispered the paramedic. "Lou should be here in about an hour. That should give us enough time to settle in and make Kelly believe that we're all asleep. Is everyone clear on what we're supposed to do?"

"Yeah, Gage," answered Hank. "We've already gone over it a dozen times. We pretend to be sleeping and when Chet tries to wake us up, we don't budge."

"I'm all set," grinned Stoker. "I have the stake under my bunk, so I can grab it in a hurry. I just hope I don't miss and injure Louisa!"

"All you have to do is remember where the padding is, pal," replied Hank, his eyes full of delighted mischief. "As long as we don't get a call, everything will go as planned."

The men waited another half-hour before turning in. They lay awake, feigning snores and eagerly anticipating Louisa's arrival and the climax of the prank.

A few minutes past 11 o'clock, shuffling footsteps were heard out in the bay. Seconds later, the door to the dorm opened and Louisa, dressed in full vampire regalia, entered the darkened room. She slowly approached Chet's bunk and stood over him silently, a smile crossing her ghostly-white features.

"Chester," she called softly. "Chester B. Kelly, the time has come for you to pay for awakening my master from his long sleep."

Chet rolled over in bed, mumbling unintelligibly. The sheets rustled as he turned over.

Louisa laughed silently then spoke again. "Chester," she said a little louder, "you must pay for your misdeed."

Kelly groaned in annoyance and opened his eyes. "Pay for my what?" he uttered groggily, his voice cutting off when he saw the figure standing at the foot of his bunk. The Irishman's face paled when he recognized Louisa.

"Your misdeed, Chester," replied Louisa, adopting a throaty growl. "You awakened my master from his long slumber. Now you must suffer the same fate I now endure." She leaned forward, grinning malevolently, her razor-sharp fangs gleaming faintly in the near-dark.

"I...I d-didn't m-m-mean to. I-it w-was an acc-accident," said Chet, his voice trembling. "I swear it was!" He scanned the other bunks, praying that one of his shift-mates was awake and could help him. "Come on, you guys! Help me!"

"They can't hear you," said Louisa. "They are under my power. No one can help you."

"I didn't know there was a vampire in that house, Louisa! I swear to God I didn't know!"

"That makes no difference, Chester," retorted Louisa. "You must join us in our doomed existence." The young woman bent closer, pressing her forearm against the Irishman's chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"No!" screamed Chet as her fangs touched his neck. He struggled, but couldn't gain enough leverage to break free. "Please! Don't ! I'll do anything you ask! Just don't turn me into a bloodsucker."

"Hey! What's going on over there?!" yelled Mike. "Chet, shut up and go to sleep, will ya?"

"Mike! For God's sake, help me!" wailed Chet. "Louisa's gonna kill me!"

Stoker leaped out of his bunk, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. His eyes widened when he saw Louisa pressing her lips against Kelly's neck. He reached under his bed and pulled out the prop stake. He sped forward, bumping against the young woman and knocking her away from the Irishman.

"Die, you bloodsucking bitch from Hell!" he bellowed, ramming the sharpened column of wood into Louisa's padded chest, striking the blood pack in the exact center. Dark-red blood spewed from the 'wound' as the stake went through her chest and came out the back of her body. The young woman collapsed on the floor, writhing in apparent agony. An unearthly shriek erupted from her throat, then died away to a gurgle.

"My God, Stoker! You killed her!" screamed Chet, staring in horror at the still figure lying on the floor. "That's murder!"

"What was I supposed to do, Chet? Let her bite you?" growled Mike.

The Irishman's mouth worked, but no sound emerged. He struggled to his feet and ran shakily to the latrine. He dropped to his knees and retched violently.

"What's going on?" muttered Johnny, sitting up in bed. He lowered his voice. "Did it work?"

"Like a charm," grinned Mike in an equally low tone.

Chet returned, moaning as he leaned against the doorjamb. "What do we do now?" he whimpered. "We have to do something! She can't really be dead."

"Get a grip, Kelly," ordered Hank. He walked over to the man and gently guided him through the bay and into the dayroom. "Here, pal, have a seat. I'll be right back."

"Why isn't she moving?" said Roy as he bent over the young woman's motionless form. "Mike, are you sure you hit the right spot?"

"Of course I'm sure!" retorted the engineer. "Do you think that maybe she hit her head when she fell?"

Louisa listened silently as the men talked above her. She became aware of a slight vibration moving through the floor beneath her. "About damn time you decided to show up,Trent!" she thought to herself.

Seconds later, a scream of raw horror sounded from the dayroom. The men ran out of the dorm, colliding with Chet, who scrambled into the bay with his curly hair standing on end. "There's another one in the kitchen!" he bellowed. "He tried to grab me!"

At that moment, a white-faced figure dressed all in black appeared in the doorway. Trickles of dried blood ran from the corners of the figure's mouth. It lifted corpse-white hands towards the men and uttered an unearthly groan.

"What in Heaven's name is that?!" shouted Hank, backing away slowly.

Behind them, the door leading into the dorm creaked open. Louisa appeared, blood staining the front of her blouse. She hissed, baring her razor-sharp fangs and reached to grab a handful of Roy's hair. "I'm huuuungry," she moaned, pulling the senior paramedic towards her. Desoto wailed in fear when he felt the young woman's teeth sink into his neck. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and he collapsed, blood streaming from the ragged holes.

"Roy!" shouted Johnny, dropping to his knees beside his partner's motionless body. He pressed his hand over the wound, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood. "No, Pally, don't you dare die on me!"

"You cannot save him," Louisa told him, her voice a throaty growl. "He belongs to the Undead, as I do."

"Like Hell!" spat Gage. His eyes widened when DeSoto reached up and grabbed his throat.

"Hey, Junior, I feel like having a bite," he grinned, revealing razor sharp fangs. "A bite of you!"

Johnny struggled to free himself from the vice-like grip that was cutting off his air. He uttered a choked cry when Louisa grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. An instant later, he felt his best friend's teeth sink into his neck.

Mike stood frozen, gasping in surprise when the vampiric trio turned to look at him, their red eyes glowing demonically.

Chet shrieked like a girl and fled in blind terror. In his panic, he ran straight into the black-clad figure. The figure held tight to the Irishman's arms and laughed evilly, its voice echoing off the structure's brick walls.

The bay's over-head door began to rise, slowly revealing Chief McConikee. He stared incredulously at the scene before him and stuck a hand under his shirt, pulling out a shiny silver crucifix. The Chief raised the holy object and advanced on the figure holding Kelly in its grasp.

"To Hell with Ye, unclean spirit," he thundered, pressing the crucifix against the creature's face. It wailed and its hands flew open, releasing Chet, who dropped like a stone.

Louisa hissed at McConnikee, recoiling when he raised the crucifix, her red eyes filled with raw hate. She knelt beside Kelly, who cringed when she reached out to grasp his arm. "No, Lou! Please! Don't hurt me! I'll do anything; just don't bite me!" he begged.

"What's a little bite between friends?" the young woman whispered. "And we are friends, aren't we?"

"Y-y-eah, s-s-ure. Of c-c-c-ourse," the Irishman stuttered. "B-but w-w-why m-me?"

Louisa gently stroked Chet's curly hair. "Why not? It'll be great. You, me, Johnny, and Roy spending eternity together."

Kelly grimaced. "Yeah, right. A real blast," he muttered sarcastically. "Why not have Cap and Stoker join us?"

"Because you're the one I want. Superstitious, easily fooled, and most important, gullible you."

"Huh?"

Louisa's lips spread in a wide grin and she started to laugh. "GOTCHA!"

Chet sat up, still shaking. "You mean this was all a prank?" he accused.

"It sure was, Chester," Louisa gasped breathlessly, "and you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker."

"But what about Roy?" asked the Irishman. "I saw you bite him."

"All an illusion," smiled Desoto, swiping a hand over his neck. "See? Stage blood."

"I had a blood capsule hidden in my mouth the whole time, Chet."

"Yeah, so what about Gage? Was he in on it, too?"

"You bet I was! When we were in the basement, Lou told me and Roy that she had something extra special in mind and asked us to come back after everyone else had left," laughed Johnny. "She told us her idea and we worked out the details late last night."

"Actually, it was Roy who came up with the idea to bite Johnny," Louisa grinned. "Who knew he had such a devious mind?"

"Let's just say I couldn't resist being in on giving the Phantom a taste of his own medicine," answered Roy with a chuckle.

"Don't tell me Cap, Stoker, Marco, and the Chief were in on it, too!" Kelly grumbled.

"Okay, I won't," she laughed.

"Wait, who's this character?" said Chet, jerking a thumb at the other figure.

"Trent Fisher, at your service. Lou and I are old friends. I'm the one who rigged the lights at that old mansion to flicker and staged the phony struggle you all heard when she went into the cellar."

"So that's why you wanted me to have my party at that dump," mused Chet. "But why go to all this trouble?"

"To make you think twice before you pull the dead-rat-in-the-glove-compartment on someone else," said Louisa, still laughing. "Chet, don't tell me you actually believe in vampires? Even you can't be that superstitious."

"Well, I guess I don't, not really," admitted Kelly. He grinned and dropped to his knees in front of the young woman. "I hereby proclaim Miss Louisa Martin Lopez the Queen of the Pranksters. I bow to your creativity, not to mention your sneakiness."

The young woman placed a hand on the man's head. "Rise, peasant, and greet your Mistress." She grinned ghoulishly, flashing her fangs. "Happy Halloween, Chester. You certainly made it a night to remember. I don't think I've ever heard anyone scream that loud in my entire life."

"It helps if you're scared out of your wits," grinned Chet. "But just wait until next year, O Great One," he warned. "I plan to get even."

"Dream on, Kelly," snorted Johnny. "This is one prank you'll never top, not in a million years."

"Don't count on it, Gage," retorted Chet. He slid an arm around Louisa's shoulders, steering her towards the kitchen. "Come on, Lou. I wanna know exactly how you carried this out, down to the smallest detail."

"My pleasure, my friend," answered Louisa. "Maybe you and I could work together next year." Their voices faded as they walked into the dayroom.

Hank rolled his eyes in exasperation. "With those two working together, next Halloween will be a killer. We better watch our backs, gentlemen. Who knows what they'll cook up?"

The End

This story came to me after reading several very fine Halloween-themed Emergency! stories on the Internet. I played upon Chet Kelly's love of horror movies and wondered how he might react if he found himself in that type of scenario. This story was the result. I hope everyone enjoyed reading it.

Disclaimer: The guys aren't mine. I just borrowed them for this story. All original characters are the product of my imagination and may not be used without my permission.