Fang of the Vampire

by Tommy Donbavand

  “It’s what makes goblins so delightful to be around,” replied Cleo.

  As if on cue, one of the goblins let rip a huge burst of gas from its bottom. The creature was propelled across the cavern, a cloud of green vapour trailing behind. It landed at Luke’s feet and planted its hands firmly on its hips.

  “I be Squiffer,” it announced. “I be demand you no touch goblin ’longings!”

  Resus grabbed the goblin and lifted it up to his face. “These ’longings,” he snarled, “have all been stolen by Sir Otto Sneer!”

  Squiffer wriggled in Resus’s hands. “Flabby man give ’longings to goblins.”

  “But they belong to the residents of Scream Street!”

  “If pointy tooth cannot keep ’longings for himself,” jeered Squiffer, “goblins will keep ’longings instead!”

  Resus tightened his grip. “How about I show you just how pointy these teeth really are?” he hissed.

  The goblin squealed and let out another blast of gas. “Don’t be hurt Squiffer! Squiffer can be pointy tooth’s friend!”

  “That’s better,” said Resus as the stench subsided. “Now, we’re not here for your ’longings. We’re looking for a relic. Something left behind by a vampire. Do you know where it is?”

  Squiffer pulled a determined face. “Squiffer be not tell!”

  “I thought you said you were going to be his friend?” said Cleo.

  The goblin stuck his tongue out at her. “Squiffer be change his mind. Squiffer be complicated that way!”

  “Then who will tell us?” asked Resus. “Who’s in charge here?”

  “You be mean head of family?”

  “Yes, I mean the head of the family!” snapped Resus. “Who is it?”

  Squiffer nodded his head, moving it slower and slower until the nod became a violent shake. “I be no tell you that the Great Guff is head of family!” The goblin clamped a hand across its mouth, eyes wide as it realized it had given the secret away.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” said Luke. He snatched the creature from Resus and held it high. “I am a werewolf!” he shouted. “If the Great Guff does not reveal himself to me, I will transform and tear this goblin to pieces!”

  Squiffer squealed and pumped out another noxious green cloud, forcing Luke to hold his breath. A larger goblin approached through the mist, wearing woollen baby booties and a cape made from tin foil.

  “I be the Great Guff,” the goblin announced. “Release Squiffer!”

  Luke dropped the squirming creature. Before it hit the ground, it let out another rip of gas that propelled it across the cave. The terrified goblin raced out into the sewer tunnel, screaming.

  “You be want ’longing of way old pointy tooth?” asked the Great Guff.

  “Yes,” Luke said, “we want ’longing of way old pointy tooth. Where is it?”

  “That be not the right question,” said the goblin. “Right question be what you give the Great Guff first?”

  “You want me to give you something for telling me where the vampire’s relic is?” Luke asked. The Great Guff smiled and held out his hand.

  Luke clenched his fists. “But I don’t have anything to give!”

  The Great Guff turned away from Luke and folded his arms. “If wolf-boy be getting angry, the Great Guff be no tell!”

  “I’m not angry,” replied Luke, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I just…” A smile spread across his face. “I just had to make sure you deserved my present. It can only be given to a great leader – if you know of one, that is.”

  The Great Guff gasped. “I be great leader! I be the Great Guff!”

  “What a coincidence,” said Luke, pulling the dog’s collar from his pocket. The silver buckle glinted in the soft light. “Then this must be for you.”

  “What be that?” asked the Great Guff.

  “This is a valuable necklace,” said Luke. “Do you want it?”

  The goblin watched the collar swing with greedy eyes. “Yes!” it breathed excitedly. “Give ’longing to the Great Guff!”

  “OK,” said Luke, “but there’s one tiny adjustment to make.” He turned to Resus. “I don’t suppose you have a marker pen inside that cloak, do you?”

  The vampire grinned. “A marker pen? Why, this is a virtual stationery cupboard!” He reached inside his cape and hunted for the pen, handing Cleo a bicycle wheel and a toaster to hold while he dug deep into the pockets.

  Eventually he produced a black felt-tip pen with a flourish. Luke took it and changed the name on the dog collar’s tag from FLUFFY to GUFFY.

  “Your Majesty,” said Luke, bowing as he held out the collar. But the goblin’s eyes were now fixed on something far more interesting: Resus’s cloak.

  “Why be the Great Guff want necklace when the Great Guff be having pointy tooth’s cloak?” he said.

  “I don’t like the sound of this…” began Luke.

  “Many ’longings in pointy tooth’s cloak!”

  “No! We agreed—”

  “Goblins! Get ’longings!” screamed the Great Guff. Bearing razor-sharp teeth, the pack of goblins attacked. Within seconds, Luke, Resus and Cleo were overwhelmed by the tiny farting monsters.

  Luke kicked one of the goblins in the stomach. It flew across the cavern, squealing as it crashed into a pile of board games and books. Another goblin instantly took its place, grabbing Luke’s leg and biting hard.

  Cleo was forced to the ground by the creatures as they rasped green fumes in her face. She pulled her bandages up to cover her mouth, but the dressing offered little protection and she felt her consciousness begin to slip away.

  Resus pulled a golf club from his cloak and used it to drive the goblins away. “Fore!” he shouted as he whacked the creatures across the cave. But for every goblin he dispatched, three more leapt at him and soon he, too, was covered in the stinking, pumping creatures.

  The green gas erupting from the goblins now enveloped Luke completely. Through streaming eyes he tried to locate his friends, but all he could see was even more goblins as they jumped on top of him.

  “Resus!” he shouted. “Where are you?”

  “Here!” yelled the vampire, biting into a goblin’s bottom with his fangs and getting a cloud of green fumes in his face for his trouble.

  “Cover your eyes!” called Luke in reply. “Cleo, you too!”

  Cleo and Resus had no choice but to comply. They yanked their hands away from their goblin attackers and pressed them over their eyes as Luke lunged over to where he had heard Resus’s voice.

  Luke thrust his hand inside Resus’s cape and pulled out the flaming torch. Screwing his own eyes tight shut, he plunged the torch deep into the centre of the goblin gas cloud.

  The cavern exploded.

  When Luke opened his eyes, his first thought was of amazement that he could still operate any part of his body at all. The explosion had been far bigger than he had expected and his ears were still ringing from the blast.

  “Luke Watson,” moaned Cleo as she came round and forced herself into a sitting position. “Since I met you I’ve been burnt, stabbed and now blown up… This is the best fun I’ve had in centuries!”

  “My hair’s all burnt at the ends,” complained Resus.

  “Serves you right for dyeing it so much, doesn’t it,” teased Cleo. “I knew that spray-on stuff wasn’t good for you!”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Resus, everyone knows,” replied Cleo. “It’s the worst-kept secret in Scream Street!” The vampire pulled a sulky face.

  “Your hair is burnt a bit, though,” said Luke, reaching out to touch it. “Hey, is that a bald patch?”

  The vampire slapped his hand away. “My fangs are still in full working order,” he warned.

  “Looks like the goblins came off worse,” said Cleo. The tiny creatures were scattered across the floor of the cavern, an occasional eep! of green gas the only sign they were still alive.

  “We’d better get out of here before th
ey wake up,” said Resus.

  “Look!” whispered Luke. In the centre of the cave, clearly visible now the goblins’ stash of stolen items had been blown away, was a stone coffin.

  “Do you think that’s where the relic is?” asked Cleo, climbing to her feet.

  Resus shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to open it to be sure.”

  “I’ll do it!” yelled Cleo, skipping across the cavern.

  “And, somehow, it’s always her that gets hurt…” grinned Resus as he and Luke followed the mummy.

  The trio gathered beside the coffin and pushed at the stone lid. A scraping echoed around the cave as it shifted slightly.

  “It’s too heavy,” said Luke. “We need something like a—”

  “Crowbar?” asked Resus, pulling a long metal tool from his cloak.

  Luke grinned. “It’s no wonder the goblins are fans of your wardrobe!”

  Using the crowbar they were able to slide the heavy lid across the top of the coffin. Straining against the weight, Luke, Resus and Cleo pushed with all their might until gravity took over and the slab of stone crashed to the floor.

  The perfectly preserved body of a vampire lay inside, enshrouded in a black silk cloak. Resus gasped.

  “It’s Count Negatov!”

  Chapter Eleven

  The Fang

  “I was only expecting the relic,” said Luke. “Not the vampire himself.”

  “Is he dead?” asked Cleo, nudging Count Negatov’s cheek with her finger.

  “If he isn’t, he’ll have one heck of a stiff back when he gets up,” said Resus. “According to the carvings on the coffin, he’s been down here for over a century.”

  “Come on,” said Luke, “let’s find this relic and get out of here.”

  “I don’t know…” said Cleo. “It feels weird going through a dead vampire’s pockets.”

  A cloud of gas appeared as one of the goblins rolled over and let rip.

  “Maybe you’d prefer to wait until these guys wake up so you can ask them for help?” suggested Resus.

  Cleo frowned. “Let’s do it.”

  Luke lifted the edge of Count Negatov’s cape and he, Cleo and Resus slid their hands inside, exploring the cloak’s many pockets.

  “I’ve got something,” said Luke. He pulled out a piece of parchment and unfurled it. “It looks like a family tree.”

  “Vampires are buried with details of their ancestors,” explained Resus. “So that they can be easily identified in the next life.”

  “That doesn’t help us find the relic,” said Luke. “It’s not here.”

  “Read the clue again,” suggested Cleo.

  Luke pulled Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street out of his pocket and opened it. The trio gathered around the book and read:

  “It’s his fangs,” said Resus.

  “Fangs?” asked Luke. “Are you sure?”

  “The source of power here will bite,” read Resus aloud. “The only part of a vampire that bites is his fangs.”

  “We have to take his teeth?” asked Cleo, disgusted.

  Resus nodded. “It’s the one thing that only a vampire can leave behind.”

  Luke stretched out his hand and carefully pushed back Count Negatov’s top lip. The vampire’s fangs glowed in the light of the gutweed. Luke took one of them between his fingers and pulled gently. It was stuck fast.

  “Shame he’s not wearing dentures, like you,” Luke said. “There’s no way they’re coming out.”

  “Try this,” suggested Resus, producing a pair of pliers from his cloak.

  Cleo looked horrified. “You can’t be serious!”

  “Have you got any better ideas?” asked Resus. “We’ve got to do something before the farting army here wakes up.”

  Luke took the pliers and clamped hold of one of Count Negatov’s fangs. “Do we need both of them?” he asked.

  Resus shook his head. “A vampire needs his fangs to feed in the next life, so we’d better leave him one.”

  “Right,” said Luke. “You two hold his head down and I’ll pull.”

  Cleo and Resus positioned themselves at the top of the coffin and pressed their hands against the dead vampire’s head. Cleo turned away, unable to watch.

  “The good news,” beamed Resus, “is that he’s been dead for over a century, so there shouldn’t be any blood.”

  Cleo kicked him in the shin. “You’re enjoying this!” she snapped.

  “Right,” said Luke. “On three. One … two … three!”

  In one swift movement, Cleo and Resus pushed down on the vampire’s head as Luke gripped the pliers and pulled. With a sickening crack, the fang came free. A fountain of blood spurted from Count Negatov’s mouth.

  “You said there wouldn’t be any blood!” Cleo squealed.

  “There shouldn’t be!” shouted Resus. “When vampires die, their blood evaporates. I don’t understand it!”

  As Luke held up the tooth to examine it, a hand shot out of the coffin and grabbed his throat. “I think I know why there’s blood…” he gurgled.

  “Who dares to disturb my rest?” demanded the vampire in a deep, solemn voice. His eyes were wide open, staring up at the children.

  Luke swallowed hard. The vampire’s grip on his throat was closing tighter. “My name is Luke Watson,” he said in a strangled voice. “S-Samuel Skipstone sent me.”

  Count Negatov’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know you speak the truth?”

  Resus darted round the coffin until he was in the vampire’s line of sight. “Count Negatov,” he said. “I am Resus Negative, descendant of the glorious Negatov dynasty.” He held his hand out towards the vampire.

  Count Negatov studied the lines crossing Resus’s palm. “You are indeed of the Negatov line,” he said. “But who is he that has taken my fang?”

  “He’s a werewolf,” explained Resus. “I’m helping him to collect the six relics of the founding fathers so that he can take his family out of Scream Street.”

  Count Negatov sighed. “For over a hundred years I have slept, awaiting the moment my relic would be collected. I have but one question…” The vampire stared deep into Luke’s eyes and asked, “Is he worthy of this gift?”

  Resus smiled. “Yes, sire. He’s my friend!”

  The vampire released his grip on Luke’s throat. “Then I may finally pass on to the next life,” he said. “Your quest has received the blessing of the vampires.”

  Count Negatov closed his eyes for the final time and was silent.

  Luke, Resus and Cleo made their way back along the sewer tunnel, the flickering torch illuminating the fang as Luke studied it.

  “Thank you,” he said to Resus for the fifth time in as many minutes.

  “It’s no problem,” said Resus. “You’d have done the same for me.”

  “Sorry to disturb such a touching moment,” said Cleo, “but can we please get out of here so I can wash at least some of these stains out of my bandages?”

  Luke grinned at her in the torchlight. “I think you look rather fetching,” he said. “I hear mud brown and gutweed green are the in colours this season.”

  “If I wasn’t so nice…” began Cleo. She stopped. “Shh! What’s that?”

  “What?” said Luke. “I can’t hear anything.”

  “It’s like wind,” said Cleo. “Wind that’s squeaking!”

  Resus’s cape flapped and he struggled to keep hold of the torch as some unseen force threatened to pull it from his hands. “It’s a poltergeist!” he shouted.

  “Then what’s squeaking?” asked Luke. The answer came as dozens of rats flew along the tunnel towards them, swept up by the poltergeist’s power.

  One of them gripped Luke’s cheek as it bounced past, digging its claws into his skin to try to anchor itself. “Get it off me!” Luke yelled.

  Resus reached inside his cloak and pulled out the first thing he could find: the crowbar. He swung it towards Luke’s head, knocking the rat away but hitting his friend in the process.
r />   “Ow!”

  “Sorry!” Resus apologized.

  “That really hurt!” said Luke, rubbing at his cheek. He pulled his hand away as blood began to run down his fingertips.

  “That rat must have scratched you,” said Cleo.

  “No,” said Luke. “It’s not the rat.” He gazed down at his fingernails as they stretched and grew, curling over to form powerful claws. “I’m changing!”

  “Will it stop with your hands?” asked Resus. “I don’t fancy being trapped underground with an angry werewolf!” The flaming torch was ripped from his hand. It clattered away down the tunnel, plunging the trio into blackness.

  “Strike that,” he shouted against the roar of the wind. “I don’t fancy being trapped underground in the dark with an angry werewolf!”

  The poltergeist attack was building. Rocks, twigs and clumps of mud swirled around the confines of the tunnel.

  “Hold on to me!” yelled Luke, digging his claws into the wall of the sewer pipe. Resus gripped Luke’s belt and offered Cleo the edge of his cloak to hold. The ends of the mummy’s bandages flapped out behind her.

  Hand over hand, Luke dug his claws into the brickwork of the tunnel, dragging himself and his friends back towards the trapdoor. “I didn’t think the poltergeist’s effects could be felt in the sewer!”

  “Maybe someone knows we’re down here,” shouted Resus in reply.

  “Impossible!” yelled Cleo. “Who could have told Sir Otto where we are?”

  Luke glanced over his shoulder. “Squiffer?”

  “I’ve got a nice big cork in my cape,” said the vampire. “I’ll bung up his bum for good, once we get out of here!”

  The trio finally reached the ladder that led up to the cellar. As Luke climbed, the trapdoor opened and he found himself staring into a familiar face. “Dr Skully?”

  “I thought you might need a hand with Skipstone’s quest,” the skeleton said.

  Dr Skully reached down and helped Cleo to clamber past the boys and out of the sewer. “But you told us not to bother with Samuel Skipstone,” she said.

  “Changed my mind,” said Dr Skully, brushing aside his greasy ginger hair.

  “You won’t believe what we found down there, sir!” said Luke as he and Resus clambered out of the tunnel. “There’s this massive cavern and—”