There were noises outside the castle. They were loud, they were violent, and they were the last thing Lindsay needed while sitting on top of a vampire bat. Was this another prank, or something much worse?
Lindsay shifted on the pail to keep her skirt from riding up. It was a good thing she was wearing flats, in case she needed to run. She could run like the wind if she had to; and jump, and climb. In fact she was remarkably good at sports, despite never having a passion for them.
Spike tapped at the walls of her aluminium prison. “Excuse me, miss? What did you say your name was again?”
The young woman relented. “Lindsay…”
“Miss Lindsay,” Spike chirped. “I understand that you fear for your person, but I have urgent business that I must attend to. Is there anything I can do to assure my good faith?” Continue reading “Fang Force #04 – “Rebirth: Rise of the Red Fang” (Part 4)”
Lindsay was resolute. This, she decided, was a practical joke; or an elaborate new attraction Mr. Nowak put together without her knowing. She was the guinea pig, and that was fine – but Lindsay being Lindsay had to get her own back.
The alternative was too horrifying to think about. Real vampires, and the return of the Great Vampire King? No thanks. It made for better fiction than history.
An aluminum pail from the supply closet seemed a good weapon of choice. She lingered around a corner, just out of sight from the staircase.
There were voices in the bell tower; two men and a woman if she heard right. Were they the figures from the coffins? The lady wasn’t in fact a lady at all, but some kind of bat creature who spoke like an English teacher. A puppet, maybe? Maybe, she thought, it was remote-controlled.
Two gentlemen emerged from the staircase as though stepping from a period drama; a badly funded stage period drama with an amatuer wardrobe department. Their clothes were falling apart. The lace cuffs barely held to their stitching! If Lindsay didn’t know better, she’d swear their clothes were worn with age.
Both men sprinted down the opposite end of the hallway, leaving only the winged creature to worry about. With the pail held above her head Lindsay approached the staircase, step by careful step. The element of surprise was hers, but only if she was careful. Continue reading “Fang Force #03 – “Rebirth: Rise of the Red Fang” (Part 3)”
Spending the better part of her lifetime lingering around the castle left no corner with which Lindsay was unfamiliar, except one; the belfry of the clock tower, which was deemed off limits long before Mr. Nowak was appointed curator. “It’s out of respect for the Great Vampire King that we don’t enter the clock tower,” he’d once told her. “Besides, the mystery is half the fun!”
This mystery, Lindsay decided, was not fun at all. The higher she scaled, the deeper the ill harmony that stirred with every strike of the bell. What she’d mixed on her computer for the tour groups paled in comparison to the hollow, gruesome knell. Yet she pressed on, determined to know the origin of the sound.
At the highest point of the tower was a wooden door, rotted and crumbling. What was once well protected with a solid beam was brittle with age, and barely held together under the brutal vibrations of the bell. The sound on the other side was deafening, but Lindsay resolved to see what started it all. One strong kick was all she needed to collapse the handle, sending the door swinging on its hinges.
Then the ringing stopped. All was silent, and the bell hanging overhead still. Had she dreamed it? Continue reading “Fang Force #02 – “Rebirth: Rise of the Red Fang” (Part 2)”