CH 6
Showtime
AN: Hello to anyone who read this. I'm sorry it had been awhile, but I've had do much stuff to do and not time to do it… Anywho, here is Ch6 which took me about a month to write, so I hope its enjoyable. Pardon any typos, and thanks to my reviewer! I do not own the Lost Boys.
XxxX
They approached the stage where a bunch of people were lined up, all of them wearing crazy costumes. Same nodded approvingly at some and shook his head in disgust at more than a few. Winston shrugged on his army jacket as the group shuffled onto the stage. He very much looked like soldier, so much so that a true veteran had saluted him when he had walked through the door.
Pulsing strobe lights cast an eerie glow on everyone, and out of the corner of his eye he thought he say a Bomber looking his way. He shook off the glance and followed the group up the stage. Bringing up the rear of the line, he scanned the crowd looking for the Bombers only to notice an absence of the red leather jackets. He turned to his left only to see the face of a Bomber inches from his.
"Looking for me?" he said creepily, slowly smiling to reveal a glistening fang. The Bomber tucked a long strand of greasy black hair behind his ear and looked Winston up and down, hoping to find some kind of fear. Winston didn't even flinch.
"No, I'm just here for a costume contest with my friends," he said plainly as he gestured toward the rest of them. The Bomber narrowed his beady glowing yellow eyes and turned to face his companions, whispering viscously. Up at the front of the group was Jack, staring out at the crowd with a trained eye, looking for anyone who screamed vampire. The ever present cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the end burning with a slow blue and red flame. Edgar stood next to him, checking Alan for all of the necessary vampire hunting supplies. Next to Alan stood Delilah, who was fiddling with the Bombers necklace whilst Lauren looked at her with worried eyes. Sam looked longingly at Lauren from his place next to her. Josh stood almost as still as a statue, lost in his thoughts. His only movement was his finger as they twirled a dangerously sharp pocket knife.
Winston nudged Josh with his right shoulder.
"They're here," he said quietly. Josh cursed under his breath.
"Jesus fucking Christ they looked pissed," he said as he folded his knife and stuck it in his back pocket. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Winston nodded.
"I can tell they recognise me, but I don't know what they'll do. There are too many people at risk," he muttered as he gestured towards Delilah. "Tell Dela that-" he was cut off by the booming voice of an announcer.
"Witches and Wizards, welcome to Santa Carla's first annual Halloween Ball!" he said in an extremely high and charismatic voice. The crowd screamed and howled in anticipation of his words. "Here we have our fright-tastic competitors all here for a chance at $1000 in cold hard bonds!" A man dressed as a rock star, presumably the announcer, stepped out of the light booth and flamboyantly sauntered onto the stage. He eyed Sam with a dangerous smile, then clawed the air with his hands, mouthing "rawr." Sam stumbled back into Josh, earning himself and annoyed glance from the young man.
"So here are the rules: number one," he said as an assistant dressed as a stripper held up a sparkly sign with the number one on it. "Each and every one of you, no matter if you are in a group, has to walk down the catwalk individually. How else are we supposed to measure your sexiness?" He turned his glance to Sam. "I mean costume. Number two." The stripper/ assistant held up another sparkly sign with the number two on it. "You all have to complete a skit, kind of like the talent portion of a pageant. That's what this is right? A pageant?" he laughed an almost girly laugh before gesturing his assistant to hold up the next sign.
"Jeez," Sam whispered to Lauren. "Who knew that this contest was going to be held by Mr. Frank N. Furter himself!" Lauren covered her mouth with her hand to hide her giggles. Sam stole a glance at Edgar and Alan, who were both silently fuming as the eccentric host went on with his rules.
"Number three! " he paused for a moment. "Actually I don't have a number three. Let's carry on with our first contestant!" The crowd applauded and screamed as a duo dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Frankenstein came on stage. Winston rolled his shoulders and cracked his back as Sam, Alan, Edgar, Delilah, and Lauren made their way over to where he and Josh were standing.
"Sam as soon as we get out of here, I am going to kill you for talking me into this," Edgar growled at the other boy. Alan grunted in response. The two looked murderous, obviously not thrilled at the prospect of a fashion show even if it was to kill some vampires. Josh scoffed.
"I could care less about the prissy fashion show part. I'm thinking that we just walk down there with heavy footsteps and scowls and it will work fine. The ladies love that I-could-care-less-about-what-you-think-of- me look. You can even bum a cigarette from me if you think it will make you look tougher," he said as he snubbed out his old smoke and lit a new one. Jack laughed.
"I say we just parade old Sambo around. Thant host obviously has a thing for him!" Sam blushed as Winston laughed loudly.
"I have a better idea. How bout I go first and scare the prick into skipping this whole ordeal. That way us dignified men can get on with this thing and kick some ass!" Looking towards the front of the line he noticed that there were only a few contestants left before they had to go on.
"Poo, I was looking forward to that," Delilah said as she rolled her eyes and grabbed Lauren's arm. The poor blonde girl's eyes almost bulged out of her head as the host gestured towards the group. All eight of them shuffled forward to where he was standing,
"Here's the dealio," he said. "You guys just walk out there and show us your sexiness! You first," he said as he pushed Sam onto the catwalk, his hand lingering longer than it should have. Jack cursed under his breath. Looks like Sam was on his own for a bit. Surprisingly, he strutted out and did an almost perfect expression of a male model, complete with the pouty expression. The crowd wooed and cheered as he made his way back to the landing.
"You're turn," he said as he pushed Jack on. The young man slowly turned to face the overly done host.
"How bout this," he said dangerously, his voice loud enough to be picked up by the microphone. "We skip this stupid catwalk, skim though those skits, and get this over with. I have a date with a bottle of vodka at midnight." Jack towered over the host, who visibly began to shake. The crowed was silent, then burst into applause. The host nodded quickly nervously smiled at the audience.
"A-alrighty then. Mr. and Mrs. Frankenstein, show us your skit!" he stammered as Jack nodded and backed down. Edgar breathed a sigh of relief and glanced over at Winston. He traced the other man's stare to the group of Bombers intently eyes them. Nudging his brother, he pulled a silver cross from his pocket and hung it around his neck.
"Bombers, 9 o'clock. They look starved," he whispered. Alan took notice of them and nudged Jack. Jack turned and looked at them, a slow smile forming across his face. Alan shot him a dirty look.
"What the hell was that for? You don't male acquaintances with the enemy!" he spat as he checked the holy water level on his plastic squirt gun. Jack rolled his eyes then strangely let out a loud laugh, confusing the two brothers.
"I'm trying to not come across as a threat," he whispered harshly, smiling as he spoke. "If they think that we are just a bunch of idiots, they'll leave us be." Edgar shook his head.
"Or eat us for dinner. Look," he grumbled. He discretely nodded his head in the direction of a particularly greasy looking vamp. Its urine colored eyes flitted back and forth between Delilah and Lauren, and a hungry smile crawled its way onto his face. Alan's eyes narrowed at the vamp and his grasp on his stake tightened. Winston clenched his fists.
"If we stand still and pretend that we don't know what they are, they should let us be," Josh whispered as he inched closer to Lauren. The blonde girl gulped nervously, then feeling a pair of eyes on her, she turned. With a startled gasp, halfway between a scream and a whimper, she stared at the Bomber. Jack blocked the girl's view but it was too late.
The Bomber launched itself at the group, an evil animalistic smile covering its greasy face, as it flew through the air and landed in front of Lauren. The crowd let out a collective gasp, then applauded, thinking it was part of the skit. The Bomber's fangs protruded from its smelly mouth, and he made for the girls neck. She screamed, a horrid loud scream that caused the audience to cover their ears. A blinding flash of silver filled the room along with the scent of Jasmine, then the light faded and the vamp lay on the floor twitching and smoking. Winston launched into action and pulled out two short swords, swiftly slicing off its head and staking it in one smooth motion. The rest of the Bombers, recovered from shock, went ballistic and attacked.
Suddenly, Alan found himself face to face with an incredibly muscled vampire. The name sewn into his jacket read "Hank". Hank shot out a muscular fist and punched Alan in the face, hard enough for blood to pour out of his nose. Alan tucked into a roll and he fell and pulled out his water gun, doing his best to shoot the vampire. His vision was spinning though, and he couldn't see out of one eye. He tasted his own blood in the back of his throat and he knew it wasn't good. He could make out the shape of all of the Bombers, and could tell that they all were staring at him, his blood drawing them to him like flies to a garbage truck. Hank donned a hungry smile and rushed at him, just as the rest of the Bombers pulled away from the group and ran to him.
He started shooting his water gun blindly, hearing a few screams and sizzles as it collided with a vampire, but he knew that they were all closing in on him. Edgar and Sam came at the vampires, blindly staking anything in their path, but did not make a dent. Soon enough, a vamp got fed up with those two and punched them both. The two boys went flying into the audience, who gasped, then wildly applauded again. Edgar lay on the floor, tangled in streamers, while Sam's head had collided with a wall. Both of them lay on the floor, disoriented.
Alan felt a grimy hand grab his hair and roughly pull his head to the side, exposing his neck. Hank's fist collided with his head again, and Alan did his best to not black out from the pain. He moaned, then heard a crack. A blinding pain, like hot iron flowing through his bloodstream, radiated from his right arm. His breath caught in his throat as tears formed in his eyes, mixing with blood before streaking down his cheeks. His sleeves were ripped off, exposing the dark green vein that resided just under his skin. He thought it was the end, he thought he was going to die.
A pale hand, paler that those of the vampires, snaked its way into the circle and hooked on his arm. In a spilt second, all of the vamps were yanked away, and a pair of clear blue eyes looked into his own. These eyes were calm, as they stared at him. A finger came and wiped the bloody tears from his face, leaving cool impressions on his cheeks. He felt himself succumbing to sleep, a heavy sleep that wasn't natural, but welcoming nonetheless. He sighed as his eyes closed, and a feeling of peace entering his body. He thought he smelled orchids.
As he slipped into sleep, he heard many screams. He heard the sound of ripping flesh followed by grunt of satisfaction. A small rainbow of color, black, brown, silver, gold, and emerald, flitted through his barely closed eyes. A sudden heat, as if a fire had broken out, warmed his shivering body as more screams and then smell of sizzling flesh filled the air. He felt himself being lifted out into cool air, away from the burning and the screams. Then he went under.