Confluence #6 - Completion

Last week our brave hero entered the vampires lair with nothing to protect him except for his wits, garlic hummus breath and an exceptionally pointy stick he had used to unblock the toilet.

He has fallen to the floor, outnumbered by the undead clustering above him yelling LET IT GO as they attempted to wrestle his shit-stick from him...

Is this the end for our hero???

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I fell to the floor, swallowed up by the darkness of the room and the bodies clamouring over me. I thrashed about with my shit-stick but a hand bashed it and it skittered free from my grasp.

I yelped as another pair of hands hauled me up. It was Davvers. His face was pale, bloodstained around the chin and from his mouth protruded a terrible set of vampire fangs. The fight went out of me, I hung limply in his grasp.

BoomDawg, are you alright?

Shapes loomed around us both in the shadows. They were still yelling LET IT GO despite me already having lost the shit-stick to one of them.

Davvers turned to the side.

Switch the music off!!

The dreadful dirge in the background stopped and the lights came on. I wrenched my head left and right taking in the awful sight around me.

There were some dozen people in strange attire clustered around holding drinks and strangely small plates with things on them resembling prawns and olives.

What the hell is this?

I squawked feebly, still held in Davvers strong grasp.

He let go and waved an arm around.

Didn't you recognise the song? We're having a party. I thought you would be into this kind of thing, with that odd get-up you always wear. You know, the silly hat and coat?

Someone came sidling over wearing a long green satin dress. For all the world like a Disney princess, except I recognised him. It was Sad-Arse from work.

What foulness is this? Sad-Arse, is that you?

I gasped as Davvers let me go.

Sad-Arse made a strangely compelling duck-face pout and curtsied mannishly in the many yards of satin he was bedecked in.

It's Elsa, actually.

He giggled and sucked an olive off a little cocktail stick.

Elsa?

I twisted around and examined the rest of the foul denizens around me. My thoughts were running wild? What was this I had stumbled into? I whipped my head back to look at Davvers.

It's booshical theathre... Oh hang on.

Davvers reached up and plucked the fangs from his obscene mouth.

It's Musical Theatre! I thought you would like it?

I blinked rapidly as if someone was rubbing liniment into my jubjubs.

Musical Theatre? What?

Someone turned the music back on.

Let it go! Let it go! Turn away and slam the door!

I swallowed slowly like a turtle after making love to the wrong end of an otter.

Another man dressed as Moana approached me holding out my Shit-Stick.

Hey, cool outfit man. I think you dropped this when you fell? Hey what is that brown stuff on it, chocolate?

I cleared my throat.

It's shit.

Moana squealed and dropped the Shit-Stick as if it was covered in shit.

I snatched it from the air and snapped around to face Davvers once more.

So this.. This... Corruption, is some kind of party? A musical theatre party? Are you for real?

He made a snikking with his papery old lips.

Yes, of course. I mean, what else could it be?

There was a knowing look in his terrible old vampire eyes. A calculating look, one of old regrets and new desires.

I took a half-step back and nodded.

So why... ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE A VAMPIRE!

I yelled in a voice that could fell cows.

He staggered back slightly as if I was a mad thing selling clothes pegs from a dirty old bag.

Erm. Well, you know. It's nearly Haloween?

Oh really...

I moved sinuously toward him, undulating my snakey sex-hips, the Shit-Stick held loosely by my side. I moved in real close till our faces were only inches away.

Are you suuuuuuuuure.

I breathed huskily, trusting the good lady's hummus to have done its job.

Uurgghg! Gods, what is that?!?!

He backed off coughing and holding his mouth before slipping and falling onto his bumbumboo.

I smirked. It looked like the good lady's garlicky hummus had hammered the final nail into the evidence-coffin that this old bastard was indeed one of the long-undead.

I twirled the Shit-Stick menacingly in my hand and moved toward him. He desperately tried to scuttle backwards but came up against the wall.

I leaned over and waggled my brown-stained weapon in his face.

I cannot work with such corruption. Hear this old man, you and your sort sicken me. From Monday you will have to find yourself another apprentice you can take to be your blood-wife. I shall have nothing more to do with this... THIS EVIL!

I stepped over his quivering old husk and headed for the door.

No-one stopped me.

Lucky for them.

It was time to head back to the good lady and her ample charms. Maybe show her how to make some real hummus. Man hummus...