Robert Keat, or as he preferred to be called, Rob, disliked Halloween. It wasn't so much the holiday itself that got him; it was the garish over-the-top costumes, decorations, and hype surrounding the misbegotten holiday. And as he walked through the gaudily decorated halls of P.S. 121, he couldn't help but wish that the school shared his sentiment.

     However, for every disgruntled holiday hater, there were at least two who not only enjoyed, but also reveled in the commercialized event. Gary Pawlowski was one such person. His arm wrapped snugly around the waist of Cecelia, his girlfriend, he all but paraded through the holiday bedecking, arrogance and self-satisfaction etched on his every feature. Spotting a book-laden Rob's disgruntled expression, he zeroed in on the boy.

     "What's wrong, Goth-Nerd? Don't you like Halloween?"

     Rob turned with a wary sigh to his latest tormentor.

     "I like Halloween fine, Gary. It's all this," he gestured to the surrounding adornments, "that I don't like."

     "You don't like decorations?" asked Gary incredulously.

     "No Pawlowski, I don't. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get to class," said Rob, turning away from his opponent.

     However, before Rob got three feet, his irate peer brought him to a halt.

     "Now wait a second there, Rob. I don't recall telling you that you could go."

     Gary turned to Cecelia.

     "Did I tell him he could go?"

     Cecelia sighed before saying, "No, Gary, I don't seem to recall that you did."

     Gary turned back to Rob with a self-satisfied smirk.

     "I don't think so," said Gary, malevolently.

     "Look, Gary, I really don't have time for-"

     "Then you'll make time, Rob," Gary snarled. "Halloween happens to be one of my favorite holidays. So what gives, huh?"

     He shoved Rob against the lockers, causing him to drop his armload of books.

     "Gary, you-"

     "Answer the question, Keat! Now!" screamed Gary.

     Rob answered with a snarl of his own.

     "This isn't Halloween, Pawlowski! It's all fake! Every last bit of it! Halloween is about demons, vampires, haunted houses. Not dressing up like a scarecrow and stuffing yourself with candy!"

     For a moment, Gary stood, mouth working, but voiceless. Finally he said, voice trembling with the effort of keeping a level tone, "So, you want a haunted house, huh Keat? Fine then, I'll-" he paused and looked to Cecelia, who had backed several feet away from the confrontation.

     "No, we'll see at the Flanders place tonight at-"

     But now he too was cut off in turn by none other than Cecelia.

     "What? The Flanders? No, Gary, not there. It's haunted. We can't-"

     But she got no further before Gary turned to her, his face an enraged mask and his hand clenched into fists.

     "We can and we will, Becker, and you had better be there."

     He turned to Rob.

     "Midnight, Keat, midnight. Don't be late."

     Rob stood on the front walkway, just in front of the morose ruin that had once been Flanders Manor. The Flanders' had once been the wealthiest family in all of Hermington. Once. There hadn't been a Flanders in the manor in over 100 years; the last of their line had died in the Civil War. Since then, the manor had passed to the city, and as the years went by the once great mansion had moldered and collapsed in on itself, until finally it had been abandoned, too old to renovate, but too historic to destroy. It overlooked the New England town from its hilltop perch like a vulture from the gallows. For years, it had stood as a test of courage for the town's youth, a profligate right of passage, but in the end that distinction, too, had passed from its aged crown, and it descended into the realm of campfire stories and late-night legends. To trespass on its grounds was considered foolhardy; to enter the house itself, unthinkable. Nonetheless, entering the house was exactly what Rob intended to do.

     Rob looked hopefully about the yard once more, but still no one was there, either they weren't coming, which would be disturbing, or they were already inside and they were waiting for him. Not a pleasant thought. It wasn't healthy to keep Gary waiting. With a mournful look about the yard, Rob stepped forward and made his way over to the broad double doors that made up the only entrance to the mansion. Rob took one last optimistic look about the yard before, with obvious trepidation, he pushed open the doors and made his way inside. Rob glanced about the shadowed entry hall, hoping to spot someone in the pool of light made by the full moon, but no dice. For a second Rob considered leaving then and there but, if Gary was coming, or worse, was actually here, and he left...no. That would definitely not be a good idea.

     Rob walked into the room, each step producing a multitude of creaks from the old floorboards, and walked over to the door to the next room.

     "Gary?" he called. "Cecelia?"

     But he received no answer.

     With another sigh, Rob pulled out his flashlight and walked into the room. Before him stretched a long angular box that could only be described as a coffin. Rob stood, thunderstruck, staring at it for almost a minute before panic finally set him into action and he ran from the room. However, he didn't get three steps before he smacked into the wall that was Gary Pawlowski.

     "Ahhhh!"

     "Hey, Keat! Watch it! What are you so scared of?" asked Gary, sullenly.

     "There's a coffin in that room, Gary."

     Gary perked up and walked over to the door and peeked into the room.

     "Oh my God, Gary. Please, let's get out of here. This is always what happens in the horror movies before everybody gets killed!"

     Gary snorted contemptuously.

     "And I suppose that if I open the coffin, it'll be holding some kind of zombie or werewolf, huh?"

     Then, Gary put action into his words and walked over to the coffin and lifted up the lid.

     "Gary, no! Please, don't," pleaded Cecelia.

     But Gary turned a deaf ear to her words and continued his efforts.

     Rob had watched the scene with growing alarm but now he felt it was time to take action.

     "Gary, Cecelia has a point. This may not be a good idea."

     "Should've known you'd chicken out, Keat. Well, you can leave if you want, but I'm going to check this out."

     Gary threw his full force under the lid and with one last heave the top came off and fell to the floor with a house shaking "boom!"

     Gary turned to Rob and Cecelia triumphantly.

     "See?" he said. "No mons-"

     His voice trailed off as he glanced at the coffin, or rather the occupant of the coffin. Slowly rising from the white satin was a man, his skin as pale as milk. Overlapping his bottom lip were two unmistakable markings: fangs. Gary had woken a vampire.

     Gary and Rob had never worked together in their lives, had never even tried, so this would be the first time they had every cooperated on anything. Of course, screaming to wake the dead and making a mad dash for the door could hardly be called a great start but, well, you had to start somewhere. Cecelia, on the other hand, did nothing. She wanted to, but the sight of a vampire rising from his coffin in all his flamboyant glory was just too much. When Cecelia finally moved, it was to crumple to the floor in a faint rather then to actually make any attempt to escape her assailant, who now slowly descended on her with a predatory smile.

     In their panic, the boys had forgotten that the door to the house stood not three feet away, and had instead dashed frantically through the twisting corridors, finally stopping in a dilapidated room that appeared to have once been a chapel. It was then, and only then, that Gary realized that Cecelia was missing. Gary turned in a circle, looking around desperately before asking lamely, "Where is she?"

     Rob shrugged uncomfortably.

     "I think we left her behind."

     Gary stood, dumbstruck, for a second before exploding.

     "What? Why didn't she come with us?!"

     Rob shuffled his feet distractedly.

     "Well, she...she..."

     "Spit it out, Keat!"

     "She fainted as we left the room."

     Gary stared at him, a look of disbelief on his face.

     "And you just left her there? That's low, even for you, Rob."

     He turned, picking up a fallen board as he left the room.

     "Hey! Where are you going?" demanded Rob.

     "Back," Gary said, shortly.

     "Are you crazy, Gary? That's a vampire down there. You can't possibly-"

     Gary stopped him mid-sentence.

     "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, Robert. I'm going to get Cecelia. Whether you come or not is your choice."

     And with that, he turned and left.

     Miguel d'Angouleme, the Vampire, had not had the pleasure of dining on human blood in quite some time, and this girl's blood was particularly choice. He was looking forward to the boys' as well. They had panicked and ran into the house, and he could easily pick them off later. For now, he was intent on enjoying his prize without interruption, or so he thought.

     "Hey, bozo."

     Miguel turned, surprise painted along with the blood on his face.

     "Get off my girl."

     And with that, Gary attacked. Now, Gary was the captain of both his school's wrestling and boxing teams, and he hadn't lost yet. Having said that, thus far none of his opponents had ever been vampires before, either. In the beginning he managed to get in a few licks, but as the surprise wore off, it was all Miguel. Blow after blow rained down on Gary's increasingly inadequate guard. And finally, with one last vicious blow, Miguel knocked Gary against the far wall. He bounced off and fell senseless to the floor. With a small smile, Miguel advanced on his latest acquisition, hungrily eyeing the boy's neck.

     "This is just too easy," he muttered to himself, the smile never leaving his face. "It almost makes me miss the vampire hunters."

     A voice rang out behind him.

     "Well, I couldn't find any of those, but I think I'll make a worthy substitute."

     Miguel turned to stare at Rob, his smile now a malevolent chuckle.

     "And what makes you think you will succeed where he has failed?"

     He gestured toward Gary.

     Rob shrugged.

     "He didn't have this," Rob said triumphantly.

     And with that, he produced a small silver cross from behind his back and drove it into the vampire's blood-stained throat. Miguel died smiling.

     Rob hurried over to Cecelia, horrified at the puddle of blood about her prone form.

     "Cecelia? Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

     To his surprise, she rose smoothly to a sitting position.

     "I'm fine, Robert," she said, smiling happily.

     He returned her smile, gratefully.

     "Oh thank Go-"

     He never finished the sentence. For it was then that he noticed her twin fangs that turned her beautiful, benevolent smile into a feral, predatory grin.