Here is the whole sequence of Essen Undead: Tales from The Flatcrypt. (Whole sequence apparently = two, but you never know when inspiration will strike again! Plus, if I get the okay from shychic/
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redcouchaddict, I'll add the companion video to this post as well.)PERMISSION GRANTED!
First story: Beyond Midnight
Title: Beyond Midnight
Author: me
Fandom/Pairing: AWZ, Stella/Lars (I KNOW!)
Word Count: 200 or so
Rating: Gen
Summary: There was always something "off" about Stella.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Which is probably a good thing, considering.
A/N: Forgive me. Please.
Title: Beyond Midnight
Author: me
Fandom/Pairing: AWZ, Stella/Lars (I KNOW!)
Word Count: 200 or so
Rating: Gen
Summary: There was always something "off" about Stella.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Which is probably a good thing, considering.
A/N: Forgive me. Please.
When it was all over, when the blood was washed away and the flat thoroughly cleaned, everyone agreed they should have noticed sooner.
The romantic fixation. The utter paleness. The social awkwardness. The lack of discernible emotions.
So when finally she snapped, lunging for Lars with her canines extended to wicked points, a mad light in her eyes, there was really nothing to be done but take action. It was nobody's fault - nobody's fault but hers, of course.
Roman and Deniz helped to hide the wooden stake before Frau Koch and her partner came to investigate the death. A home invasion, they determined, despite the lack of a weapon. So sad, a young woman cut down in her prime like that.
Lars nodded, his expression even grimmer than usual. But after they had gone, taking the body with them, he bypassed the vodka bottle in favor of sparkling water.
There'd been posters all over Essen for the past week. The circus was coming to town. He had better be prepared.
Title: Meeting Sunrise
Author: me
Fandom/Pairing: AWZ, Too cracky to admit
Word Count: 2250 (SEE? I FAIL AT DRABBLES!)
Rating: Gen
Summary: When the circus came to town, they were ready.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Which is definitely a good thing, considering.
A/N: THIS IS NOT MY FAULT. YOU WANTED ME TO WRITE IT.
Marian walked into the flat like he owned the place.Deniz shoved the packet of stakes under a couch cushion while Roman tucked his short sword behind Olga and gave Deniz that glare that said, you forgot to lock the door AGAIN, didn't you?
"What's going on, Dad?" Deniz stood between Marian and the couch, hoping he'd take the hint and stay standing. But the older man was too distracted to notice, dropping down onto a kitchen chair and toying with one of the freshly-sharpened knives laid out on the tea towel across the tabletop.
"I don't know how I'm going to tell him," Marian said finally, testing the tip of one blade and wincing as it drew a bead of blood on the pad of his thumb.
"Tell who?" Roman flicked on the electric kettle and pulled a basket of assorted teas out of the cupboard. "Here, go ahead and pick one."
Marian snagged a chamomile and tossed it to him. "Anton, of course. How do I tell him his precious daughter is dead?"
"I'll tell him." All three turned as Lars stalked across the room, dressed head to toe in black. He took the blade away from Marian and dropped it on top of the others, rolling the whole lot of them into the tea towel. "It's my responsibility."
Marian stood up. "She was my goddaughter."
"And she was my – my girlfriend."
Deniz was pretty sure Marian hadn't heard the hesitation in Lars' voice. Or if he did, he attributed it to the pain of Muffin's loss.
He couldn't even call her by name anymore, even in his own head. None of them could.
Luckily, Marian was too restless and upset to stay for long, so after a few sips of tea he was out the door, his halfhearted protests that he needed to be the one to tell Anton finally quieted.
Lars glowered at the two of them once the door was closed. "You don't have to come tonight, you know."
Roman raised one eyebrow. "And miss the chance to wear our leathers out in public? Not a chance, schatz." Then, with a smirk, he grabbed Deniz's hand and pulled him toward their bedroom. "We'll be ready in – a while."
*
The wide field on the outskirts of Essen was usually bare this time of year. But overnight, it seemed, a temporary city had appeared, all brightly striped tents and recreational vehicles and cages for the animals. Kids clung to their parents' hands, pointing at everything they wanted to buy and dancing from foot to foot with impatience. The line for the evening performance stretched almost to the road.
By unspoken agreement, the three men slipped through the crowd and disappeared in different directions. Deniz stayed close to the waiting customers, Roman took the dark twists and turns behind the tents, and Lars strode right into the heart of the nest to beard the lion in his den.
*
The little girl laughed up at her father, swinging their clasped hands back and forth as she chattered. "And I want a balloon and I want some candy floss and I want to see the pretty ladies stand up on the horsies as they ride around the ring and I want a tiara and I want my very own monkey and I want…"
Her mouth snapped shut as her eyes focused on something just over Deniz's shoulder as he walked by. She sucked in a breath and began to scream.
Deniz whipped around and dropped into a crouch, a move they'd been practicing ever since their first encounter with the undead.
"Relax, honey," her dad was saying, "It's just a clown."
Deniz patted the wooden stake tucked into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and slowly rose. The clown continued skipping down the pathway, grinning and waving at the terrified children.
"Good instinct," he whispered under his breath as he glanced back one more time at the sobbing girl. Then he followed the clown behind the nearest trailer.
*
"Hey! This area's restricted."
Roman glanced over at the officious-looking woman carrying a clipboard. Then he continued sauntering down the narrow passageway between the tents.
"Did you hear me? I said you can't be back here."
He slipped a hand into his pocket and took out a squirting flower Annette had given him after her last business trip. With a light squeeze, he sprayed the woman in the face.
"Are you insane?" She swiped at the water dripping down her nose. "I could have you arrested for assault. Get out before I call the cops."
He watched carefully for another moment, then decided that if the holy water was going to affect her, she'd be melting by now. She must not be one of them.
Hell, this was all new to him, too.
"You should take your own advice," Roman said, leaning forward and whispering in her ear. "Get out while you still can. Believe me, it's not safe here. This circus will be the death of you."
She backed away slowly, hands extended to ward him off. "Are you threatening me?"
Roman rolled his eyes. "No, you idiot, I'm trying to save you. Now go out front and tell everyone the performance is cancelled for tonight before it's too late."
"I most certainly will not!"
He heaved a sigh. The woman was getting on his nerves. "You have no idea how dangerous it is here," he started, before he was interrupted by an enraged growl.
Turning, he saw the man leaping toward him, teeth and claws extended. He whipped a stake out from his sleeve and stabbed up as the attacker dropped onto him.
The woman screamed, then stopped abruptly as the vampire began to shrivel and turn to dust. Her eyes were wide and terrified.
Roman stepped back so he didn't get any vampire smudge on his leathers. He wiped the stake on the patch of grass next to his feet and tucked the stake away again. "Now do you believe me?"
"I…uh…" She continued backing away.
"Look, there are a lot of innocent people out there. If you run out in a panic, you're going to start a riot, and people will die. Just announce that the show is cancelled for the night, clear out the audience, then get the hell out yourself. Trust me."
She reached the edge of the tent and ran. Roman sighed and shook his head. He didn't have time for these distractions.
*
Anton was at his makeshift desk in the portable office across from the largest tent. He looked up as Lars entered the workspace.
"I've seen you before," he said, dropping his pen onto the desktop.
Lars nodded. He stood with his legs planted shoulder-width apart, hands loosely clasped behind his back.
Anton rounded the desk. "You were the one who convinced my Stella to leave the circus." He stabbed an accusing finger at Lars' chest. Lars didn't move. "Where is she? We've been in town for almost a day. It's never taken her this long to come home to us."
"She's gone." Lars' voice was low and even.
"Gone? She left? But I thought the skating was…" his voice trailed off. Eyes narrowed, he leaned forward with a hiss. "You mean gone gone, don't you?"
A sharp incline of the head was the only response Lars gave.
Anton's eyes flashed silver. "What have you done to her?"
"Only what needed to be done."
"You bastard!" Anton leapt forward, fingers curved into deadly talons, his sharp teeth bared. "I'll kill you!"
Lars sidestepped him at the last moment, allowing the momentum of Anton's attack to carry him forward onto the wicked blade Lars held in his hand.
Steel couldn't kill him, of course, but it certainly slowed him down.
Anton hunched over, blood spilling through the hands cupped over his wound. "You'll regret this," he hissed, eyeing Lars with something between hatred and fear. "There are too many of us. You cannot win."
"Maybe not," Lars said, turning the knife over and over in his palm as he watched Anton bleed. "But we can try."
*
If he never smelled greasepaint and elephant poop again, it'd be too soon.
Deniz wrinkled his nose as another, even more disgusting, scent wafted by him. It couldn't be the vampires masquerading as clowns – he'd killed every last one of those creatures, checking the trailers one by one. There was something else stinking up the place.
Well, other than the elephants, of course.
He shook his head and started following the scent. In this hellhole, it could only be another sign of potential danger.
*
Something was wrong.
Roman looked over his shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time this evening. He'd cleared out several nests of vampires, all dressed in circus rags, and checked the animal cages for shapeshifters. He'd inspected all the tents and the labyrinthian paths between them. His perimeter should be clean by now.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was still being watched.
Tilting his head from side to side, he worked out the kinks of a long night of slaying. He'd never been much for shoot-em-up video games, but there was something satisfying about ridding Essen of the threat of an undead army.
A shuffling sound caught his attention, and he whirled around, weapon at the ready.
But a wooden stake would be no threat to this adversary.
Roman's heart caught in his throat at the sight of an enemy he'd thought long dead. The monster raised one hand and waved, his fingers snapping down in an odd little motion Roman had seen in his nightmares too many times to count.
The creature's eyes were vacant, his face slack. His clothing was little more than rags, covered in dirt and bits of twigs. "Hello," he said, his voice empty. "I wonder if your brains will taste like anyone else's? Or if they'll be a little … fruity?"
He advanced on Roman, a leer stretching across his malleable face. His hands reached out, whether for balance or to grab Roman, it wasn't quite clear. Roman dropped the stake and reached for the short sword he carried strapped to his back.
Fat lot of good that would do against a zombie, either, but he needed a weapon of some sort, didn't he?
Then a brightly-colored barrel swung through the air and smacked into the zombie's head, smashing it right open.
Bulle collapsed to the ground, twitched twice, and stilled.
Deniz dropped the barrel on top of him and dusted his hands together. "Fuck you, closet case," he spat. Then he wrapped an arm around Roman and kissed him on the forehead. "Come on, let's go find Lars."
*
The wound was starting to close up even as Lars watched. The bleeding slowed; the skin pulled back together. Anton's strength would soon return as well.
He reached for the wooden stake he'd kept in a loop on his belt, hidden by the long black leather coat he wore.
His hand swept through empty space.
With a start, he shoved the coat aside. The stake loop had fallen apart, turning into just a length of leather dangling from his belt. The stake itself was gone.
Fuck.
How the hell could he have dropped the one thing he needed most of all?
Anton grinned as he caught a glimpse of Lars' belt. "Looks like the odds are in my favor, aren't they?" He leapt forward and grabbed Lars by the lapel of his jacket, throwing him against the desk.
Lars struggled upright, propping himself with his elbows. The wind had been clean knocked out of him and he fought for breath. In seconds, Anton was on him again. Shoving him back by the shoulders, he forced Lars down on the desk, leaning over him with teeth bared. "Payback time," he hissed.
His fangs scraped against Lars' jugular, almost piercing the skin. Lars struggled, knowing the effort was useless but unwilling to go down without a fight.
Anton reared back, ready to dive forward for the bite, but suddenly he cried out. Twisting around, he stared at the stake driven deep into his back.
"Marian," he gasped, as he began to disintegrate.
Lars brushed the dust off his coat as he slowly righted himself. Marian held out his hand to help him up.
"You…" Lars stared at the elder Oeztuerk in shock.
Marian handed him the stake, careful to keep the sharp side down. "You dropped this."
"But wasn't Anton your friend?"
"Was." Marian shrugged. "Things change. Didn't anyone notice we haven't exactly been close for a while? He promised that they only took blood from animals, but that was a load of elephant poop. I'd hoped that Stella had escaped the family curse, but…"
"So you knew?"
Marian leveled a look at him. "I'm not an idiot, you know."
"Dad? What are you doing here?" Deniz stopped cold just inside the workspace, Roman stumbling into his back.
Marian shrugged. "Thought you boys could use a hand."
Roman rubbed his bruised nose. "Thanks, but hopefully we're done with slaying for a good long while."
"Oh, you never know," Marian said, wrapping his arm companionably around Lars' shoulders. "There are circuses all over the country. Best to stay prepared."
With a groan, Roman took Deniz's hand and the four men walked out of the deserted circus just as the sun crept over the horizon.
Current Mood: crazy
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