Karl Lackey was a little frightened. Like a moron he had come to this lonely castle high in the hills of Bulbia to check out reports that something horrible, not to mention undead, lived here. Lackey was a reporter working on a story about this place because several people had checked into this bed and breakfast never to be seen again. His shaking hand reached for the knocker but before he could use it the door was flung open and a dude wearing all black, with a black cape said,
“Vellcome, my name ist Count Chalker. I’m zee owner of dis establishmenttt. How may I bee of help?”
Lackey sensed something sinister from this dude in black. “Ah yes, I’d like a room please,” he managed with not a little fear in his voice.
Chalker replied, “Zertainly, I half super-duper room! Vill that bee cash or charge?”
Lackey held out his personalized Baha Times credit card without thinking. “Ooopps, let’s try this one,” and handed him a different bank card.
“I’ll bee right back vit your room key,” Count Chalker replied as he left the room.
Count Chalker ran the credit card through the imprinter after calling it in to be verified. So, this guy was a reporter eh? Well, he couldn’t allow him to leave. If it became known around that The Restful Arms B&B was run by a vampire, his business would go bye-bye. That sure would suck. Eh, ha, ha! He always cracked himself up. Speaking of sucking, that’s exactly what he intended to do tonight, to Mr. Lackey’s blood!
Karl Lackey slowly climbed the spiral staircase Count Chalker had told him would lead to his room. Even though it was still daylight outside, it was as dark as a tomb inside. He strained to see by the flickering, feeble light cast by the single candle he held in his trembling hand. Up the stairs and to the right, he’d been told. All he had to do was survive this night and in the morning, after a light, yet satisfying continental breakfast and some coffee, he was sure things would look better.
It was long after midnight and the B&B was dark, except for the eerie shaft of moonlight which danced across the floor and illuminated a bat, a bat which was flying up the staircase, where it turned back into Count Chalker, or rather, his more evil incarnation, Dripula.
He slowly opened the door and crept to the bed, where he gazed upon the sleeping face of Karl Lackey, who had finally nodded off. Oh, look at that neck, it was a neck built for sucking!
Karl Lackey was finding it difficult keeping his eyes open. Despite his dread it had been a long day. He still strained to hear any strange noise in the room but more and more, he caught himself drifting off and dreaming.
Dripula pulled back the covers and exposed the victim’s neck. He bent to start sucking the tasty plasma, when all of a sudden he felt that old tickle in his nose. Not now! His allergies where starting up. His nose started pouring and he found it hard to keep from sneezing. He started to sit up when his nose itched uncontrollably and he sneezed loudly.
Karl Lackey was lying in bed and a beautiful woman was pulling back the covers and bending down to nibble his neck when suddenly, she sneezed, loudly. He was jolted awake to see a vampire as he changed into a bat and started to fly away. What the hell? Then he realized he had fallen asleep and had been awakened by the vampire’s sneezing. He grabbed the can of mace he had kept on his nightstand and turned to see where the vampire was. Dripula was flying towards the open door. Once he gained the open hallway, he would then get away. Lackey couldn’t allow that, so he took aim. It would be a difficult shot, but he let loose a stream of mace. The mace hit home on the darting bat.
He was almost safely away and no harm had been done. All Lackey would see was a bat flying away. He wouldn’t know it was the Count. That had been a close one, but….suddenly he was hit by a stream of water. Hah, if Lackey thought that a stream of water was going to stop hi….son of a b****h that stung!
Karl Lackey watched the stream of mace strike the bat, who started flying erratically, going in circles, and bouncing off the walls and furniture. It landed with a thud on the carpet and sat there. After a few moments it began to change shape. Before long, the b*****d had turned from a bat, first into Dripula, then back into B&B owner, Count Chalker. Lackey couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Count Chalker, why you’re no innkeeper, you’re a vampire!”
The Count replied, “Vell, no s**t! I vould have sucked you dry of blood, except I’m allergic to something you’re vearing.”
“Oh, maybe like these fleece pajamas?”
Helmut Chalker used to be wealthy and owned his own Bed & Breakfast, but now, after being unmasked, he was broke and his business had gone t**s up. Luckily, he’d managed to change back into bat form just as Lackey swung a fire poker at his head. Chalker was left with no way to make a living and so he’d ended up here, ‘Colonel Scar’s Halloween Traveling Show’, where he was cast, ironically enough, as the werewolf. Colonel Scar had told him when he’d requested the role of the vampire that no one would buy him as the vampire. Oh well, he needed the money, so he became the werewolf.
Dr. Dan Goiterstein was trying to make his human-like creation feel more like a real person, not the cobbled-together piece of c**p he was, so he thought of taking his creation, Der II, to a show. There were no stage plays in town but he did see an advertisement for a ‘Coronal Scar’s Halloween Traveling Show’, which sounded close enough.
So, the docter thought Der II needed to experience the things real people experienced? So I not have choice? thought Der II. Well, he was having none of it. He’d go and pretend to be happy about it, just long enough to make his escape.
The audience was screaming as Count Chalker howled and bared his fake fangs from which, for those in the audience sitting close to the stage, fake blood dripped. Dis iz ridiculous!, he thought. He would never let actual blood didn’t drip from his mouth; he wouldn’t allow the precious plasma to go to waste like that! No, he would have sucked up every last drop, but the audience had paid good money to see a show, and he’d give them one. Werewolves didn’t really exist, everyone knew that, but he’d sure make it seem as if they did.
He crept on fake claws under the backdrop of a painted fake full moon up behind the fake farmer, and howled and attacked.
Der II was sitting there watching the fake nightmare while planning his escape. He looked sickly, due to the white-face makeup he wore to conceal his natural (or, more accurately, unnatural) green skin color. He looked like some sort of clown in his dress. Dr. Goiterstein had made him conceal everything which might give him away by dressing as a woman. From his neck bolts hung bazaar-looking earrings, which made him look all-the-more ridiculous. Der II didn’t know a lot, but he knew he made one b**t-ugly woman and the neck rings only made his neck bolts even more noticeable.
Count Chalker looked out at his audience. They all were having a wonderful time. They were all dressed normally, except for this one woman his eyes kept returning to; man was she ugly!
Der II had decided; it was time. He told Dr. Goiterstein he had to take a leak and after staggering around trying to decide which way to go, made his way to the concourse and stumbled to a door which, when he opened it, proved to lead to the stage. Oh well, he had no choice, he’d been gone way too long. From the audience, he heard Dr. Goiterstein calling his name. There was no way in hell he was going back to the laboratory, so he entered onto the stage.
Count Chalker was doing his best to make it seem like he was a real werewolf, when the stage door opened and the same ugly woman he had noticed before, walked through it and onto the stage.
“Look Mommy, an ugly woman with white streaks running down her green skin!” Der II heard from the audience. He was sweating under the glare of the arc lights illuminating the stage. Great globs of white makeup slid down his face, revealing his green-colored skin.
Count Chalker was hacked. Here was the ugliest woman he had ever seen, doing her best to steal the spotlight. Well, he wasn’t going to take this. He strode over to the intruder and whispered,
“An vhat iz it you think you iz doingk?”
Der II found himself confronted by the angry-looking wolf-man. He responded to the angry wolf-man’s query by saying, “Der II sorry, Der II try to find the exit door and Der II ended up here instead.”
“Vell, keep you’re voice down, and ve’ll juss have to pretendd you’re part of the act, before you ruin itt,” replied the wolf-man.
“Oh, excuse Der II,” he answered.
Count Chalker said loudly, so the audience could hear, “Here comes an unsuspecting voman!”
Der II answered, “What you, stupid or something? You already tell Der II hi; you met Der II.”
Count Chalker hissed, “Play along!” under his breath.
“Der II play along? We playing a game Der II missing?” he answered loudly.
“Oh, juss forget itt you dum koff!” the Count replied.
Der II was perplexed. What was the wolf-man so upset about? “Look, tell Der II where is door and Der II leave.”
Count Chalker gave up. “Itt iz right over dare!”
Dr. Dan Goiterstein couldn’t believe it. There was Der II, on stage with a 3rd-rate actor portraying a werewolf, fully in view of the audience, who seemed confused and were being strangely silent, as if seeing a green-skinned ugly woman was a common occurrence. They must think Der II was a part of the show. He had to get Der II away before the audience figured out Der II wasn’t part of the show.
Der II lumbered in the direction the wolf-man had pointed, but saw no door. It was a dead-end. Suddenly, Dr Goiterstein’s voice sounded behind him.
“Der II, the game is over; the jig is up.”
There it was again; a reference to some kind of game. He tried and tried to understand but to no avail. If this was a game he didn’t know how to play; and what was a ‘jig’, and if it was up, he’d better be more careful, lest he trip over it.
Goiterstein went on, “You have no way out of here so you had better just come quietly to me and we’ll go back to the lab.”
Back to the lab? He wasn’t going back there! In a panic, he walked towards the wall. If there was no door, he would make one. With that, he started punching holes in the wall.
“Der II, stop right now!” came the cry from Dr. Goiterstein.
“Der II say eat it, Doctor. Der II not go back, Der II never go ba—”. His words were cut off by a roaring noise, as the entire wall crashed down over him.
“Der II!” screamed Goiterstein. He had tried to stop Der II from punching the wall, for he clearly saw just what was bound to happen, but Der II wouldn’t listen, and now there was no point in screaming; Der II was dead, again.
Count Chalker had just been hacked at the girl, but hadn’t wanted what had just occurred to her to happen. Well, s***w this job; pretty soon the place would be swarming with police like locusts, asking a lot of questions, and as he was really a vampire, he couldn’t afford to have the police around. He had too many skeletons in his closet, literally. He changed into a bat and just flew away.
Dr. Goiterstein was breaking to Miss Wood and their son that Der III, her husband, and his father, was gone. After he had broken the news to them, it was back to the lab for another try. Sure, this time it hadn’t worked out, but try, try again!
© Copyright 2016 Mike Stevens. All rights reserved.
Poem / Humor
Poem / Humor
Poem / Humor
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