Charley flew down the hallway towards Peter Vincent's door. Time was ticking away for Amy. It was already gone for Evil and Brenda. Charley would do anything to not let that happen to Amy. "Peter! Open the door!" demanded Charley, slamming, open fisted, on the door.
"Who is it?" came the frightened voice of Peter Vincent. After seeing Evil and Brenda, he wasn't sure if that was Charley or not hollering through the door.
"It's me! Charley Brewster! Let me in!" howled Charley, trying the door knob. Locked.
Peter opened the door only a crack. "Are you one of them?" he hissed.
"What are you talking about?" asked Charley. He didn't have time to play Peter's little games.
He shoved a cross through the cracked door. "Here, grab this," said Peter Vincent. Ah. Vampire.
Charley did. No blistering. No smoke. Nothing. Peter opened the door and Charley burst in. "We don't have much time!" cried Charley, spinning on his heels. "Dandridge and the Thompson's chased me and Amy all over town! He trapped at us this club!"
The young boy followed Peter into his bedroom where Peter started packing once again. "I'm leaving, Charley," said Peter.
"You can't!"
"Just watch me!"
"But the vampires have Amy!" wailed Charley. "He's going to kill her or turn her or whatever the fuck unless we come to his house!"
"Oh...my G-d! The police! I'll call the police!" said Peter.
"No, Peter. No! They won't believe you, I've tried!" growled Charley. "Peter, it's just us. We're gonna have to save Amy."
"I...I was paid to be there today," admitted Peter. "Amy, she paid me."
"I know."
"And you still want me to help you?" asked Peter.
"Yes!" roared Charley. "You're Peter fucking Vincent, the great vampire killer!"
"That is a character in a movie!" yelled Peter, punching an arm chair. Couldn't he just be..."That isn't even my real name! I'm terrified, Charley. I'm sorry but I am."
"I can't do it alone, Peter," said Charley. "If you don't help, Amy is gonna die. Me too, probably. Please, Peter?"
Peter sighed. "I'm sorry," he sighed.
