Stargirl(2022)

Author's Note. My Premise is Courtney Whitmore (Stargirl), Cindy Burnam (Shiv) and Yolanda Montez (Wildcat II) go to a new high end Haunted house. Turns out the coffin in the vampire's tomb was the real Dracula's coffin and the old boy has returned due to a clumsy worker cutting his hand and bleeding on the "prop skeleton". Now, he's looking for some new Brides, and the girls are his targets. Vampire mental domination, corruption and wild sex will ensue.

Cindy Burnam was bored and worst of all a little horny. She and Courtney had gotten tickets to a new Haunted House a few towns over from Blue Valley, their hometown. She hadn't wanted to go but Courtney had talked her into it. The blonde has also brought Yolanda as a plus-one, Cindy showing up solo. Now, they were outside in line as the ticket taker double checked the tickets VIP status. None of the girls knew why they'd warranted VIP tickets, having no connection to the Haunted House or anyone who worked there. They'd received them in the mail and hadn't seemed a ploy by any kind of villain.

"Probably just a promotional gag, send VIP tickets to hot girls because their likely popular and the other students will listen to them and want to come themselves, increasing business since they'll have to pay.", she thought. To be fair, the house didn't look too bad from outside. It was an old Victorian-style mansion built by some mining magnate years ago, then abandoned after he passed away. It has sat vacant but well-maintained by a trust until it was purchased by the production company for this Haunted House attraction.

The house was huge, with dozens of rooms, such as a library, a greenhouse, at least two dining rooms, a ballroom, and even a private gym with what was apparently one of the first indoor pools in the area when it was first built. Castle like towers dominated the corners of the house, which was made of grey stone with well-tended ivy crawling over it. The Gothic look of the house made it perfect for the attraction.

"Everything checks, you three can go in", said the ticket-taker, dressed in an old-timey butler costume. He was an older man, black graying at the temples, but fit. He had a friendly twinkle in his eye and Cindy was pretty sure the old coot had delayed their entrance to just enjoy looking at her and her friends for a little bit longer.

"Old perv probably does this to all the young girls he sees", she thought as she and the other finally entered the haunted house. Inside, a large crowd had formed. No kids where present, as both the invite and the signage outside had stated that the house was only for those over the age of 18. That was part of way Cindy had come, just to see if the house lived up to its own hype.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and a large ghostly head appeared, glaring threateningly at the crowd of onlookers. Even Cindy, Courtney, and Yolanda started a bit it's sudden appearance, despite their particular lifestyle and experiences.

In a deep booming voice, the head said the following, " Who dares enter Hannigan's House of Horrors. No, trespassers shall vanish within the darkness of the house, never to be seen or heard from again. Flee, if your courage has left you. Flee!" The head paused and then began to chuckle, revealing itself as not only a hologram, but a live transmission rather than a recording.

"Seriously, folks. Welcome to Hannigan's House of Horrors, and I'm your host, James Hannigan", the floating head said in a far cheerier and more conversational tone, " I like to hope you will enjoy this unique grown-up Halloween attraction. You'll find this is definitely not an attraction for the kiddies, as some of our exhibits and performances either too scary or too sexy for little kids. So, have a good scare, get turned on, whatever floats your boat, but have a good time regardless."

With that the head disappeared and the doors leading into the rest of the house opened one by one. All had signs indicating what the type of attraction was in that part of the house. The door leading upstairs was marked "Plain Scary" while the doors leading downstairs had "Darkness and Desire" The west wing was marked for "Classic Horror and Folklore", while the east wing was for " Urban Legends and Campy Scares"

"Damn, some of those a really corny", Cindy said. But "Darkness and Desire" intrigued her. It seemed like those would be of a truly "adult" nature. She hadn't come all this way to look at some knockoff Frankenstein reject or a Jason wannabe, so she began moving towards the basement entrance.

"Cindy, wait a minute, should we stay together or would you rather split up?", Courtney Whitmore, aka Stargirl, the blonde girl looking between Cindy and her other friend, Yolanda Montez aka Wildcat II. The Latina girl looked indecisive and seemed to be looking for Courtney to play decision maker in this case.

"I could go either ither, Court, so what do you want to do?", Cindy replied. She did kind of want to go off by herself, but they had come here as a group, so sharing the experience could be fun. She had really been hoping to check out the "Darkness and Desire" exhibits in the basement, but she doubted Courtney, little miss Trudy Prudy, would be that daring.

"Well, I think we should stick together and go to the East Wing, first. I want to see what they classify as a "campy scare". Then, I think Cindy should pick the next one, then Yolanda gets her turn after. Finally, we look at whatever is left."

"Okay, Courtney surprised me a little bit, there", thought Cindy. She hadn't expected either the option of choosing the exhibits or that she'd get second choice. As they headed to the east wing, she thought about her choice and settled on the basement.

"As horny as I am, that "Darkness and Desire" sounds good, but I could also go for a laugh first", she thought as the entered the realm of urban legends and "campy" frights.

*************************************************************************************************************

Thirty Minutes before opening.

Simon Travers was having a bad day. He spent the whole morning and most of the afternoon helping get the basement attractions already to go, and now he had to find where he'd lost his damn wallet. He'd checked the breakroom and the storage areas and found nothing. So, it had to be in one of the attractions.

"Great, now I have to go and find it before someone swipes it or management sees it. Hell of a day, Simon, hell of a day" The day had been a chain of last-minute crisis's, from the Count's Crypt needing to be finished to calling in the understudies for the Dungeon of Desire because half the actresses playing the succubi were laid out with food poisoning from bad Thai food. Simon had been up and down and all over the place, helping get things ready. The Count's Crypt had been a real pain in the ass, the coffin needed moved to the proper spot and the thing weighed a ton.

"Damn thing's real wood and brass and everything. Hell, it even looks like it's really old", he thought. He put not stock in the rumors that Hannigan found the thing in the basement of some old house in England and brought it here. That would be absurd. He probably got from a prop house.

"Though whoever they are, they do good work", he said to himself. The damn thing had popped open during the move and had turned out to have a full realistic skeleton inside. Complete with vampire fangs and a wooden stake jammed into the ribcage. Hannigan could've used it opened up for the scene, but as he had an actor already hired to play the vampire Count so the coffin would be shut.

Just then, Simon had an epiphany. The coffin! His wallet must have slipped into the coffin as he man-handled it to the center of the Tomb. That's when it had popped open and he and the others had closed it quick fearing the skeleton might fall out.

"I'll just make a quick little jaunt in there, jimmy the coffin open, and find my wallet. Close the coffin, exit stage right, and no one's the wiser." He made his way to the Count's Crypt. It was a large room, with the coffin sitting on a raised platform in the middle. One end had a throne-like chair, with tapestries and a sort of dresser/cupboard/table thing on the left with two gold candelabras flanking a jeweled golden goblet. The other side had a large four-poster style bed with red sheets and black curtains. Hannigan had gone the distance with the bed, feather-down mattress and real silk sheets, so it would feel like something an old school vampire aristocrat would have in his castle.

"Yeah, have to have something to sex up the brides in, not enough room in a coffin.", he thought irreverently. The Tomb of the Brides was next door, with coffins stacked against the walls and several in the middle of the room. That attraction was not live, no actors, just recordings of sexy women's voices whispering and laughing with some artificial smoke giving the room a slight misty haze to it.

He moved to the coffin and had to say, the damn thing looked real. Black with a lustrous shine with real brass rails on either side. The lid had a dragon emblem embedded in a silvery metal, its wings spread and tail extended. He opened the lid and looked inside. There was the skeleton, with what looked dried tissue still holding the joints together. A wooden stake was mounted in the rib cage, and he saw the ribs had actually been broken around it. The skull's mouth gaped wide, fangs bared in a silent scream or howl. And then there was his wallet, lying just behind the skull.

"Come here you", he said aloud, reaching for the offending item. He managed to grasp it with no problems, but as he began pulling it out, something caused him to lose his balance slightly while perched on the edge of the coffin. He avoided falling in, but his hand slipped across the skull and scarped against the fangs. A brief pain, minor but sharp came from his hand and he cursed.

"Oh, mother fucker!", he said as he pulled his wallet and his opposing hand out of the coffin. He stood and looked at his left hand. A shallow scrape oozed a bit of blood but seemed to be superficial at best. He took his wallet, closed the coffin and left the room, passing the actor who would play the Count as he came in to set up. He was in a pretty impressive costume, the cape alone was a work of art—black satin that caught the light like liquid shadow, lined with crimson that seemed to glow from within. The collar was tall and dramatically flared, reinforced with some kind of framework that would make it stand up regally. Silver clasps shaped like roses connected the front.

Underneath it, a sheer white shirt of what appeared to be silk or high-quality satin was pristine and ghostly pale against the actor's muscular form. Victorian in style, with a high collar and elaborate ruffles at the cuffs, the fabric was so fine he could see through it to the actor's skin beneath.

The pants made him pause and stare a bit. Black leather, polished to a mirror shine, they looked almost liquid. Not the cheap pleather costume nonsense you'd find at a Halloween store—this was genuine leather, supple and expensive-looking, cut to be worn skin-tight and it was.

"Damn, this is definitely not an attraction for little kids", he thought. He knew the actor, whose name was Steven, seemed a decent sort if not little entitled. The guy mostly commercials, community theater, and some extra work on both TV and films. He was a little bit snobbish to the other actors, most with fewer acting chops that him, but he was nice enough to the support staff.

"Hi Simon, making some last-minute adjustments?", he asked in friendly way.

"No Steven, I found I lost my damn wallet in that stupid coffin, and then I scraped my hand against the fucking skeleton when I was getting it back. Look at this!", he said showing his injury to the man, " I know it won't scar, but I'm going to put some alcohol and Neosporin on it before the bandage, because I don't need an infection on top of this!"

"Man, that sucks a little, but at least you got your wallet back!", Steven replied. Simon grumbled and gave an absent-minded wave as he left. Steven shook his head and went to sit on the throne, taking some time to get into character and practice his lines.

Unbeknownst to him, inside the closed coffin, things were happening. The small amount of blood from Simon's scrape had been absorbed into the skeleton like a gentle rain on dried-out earth. An unholy transformation had begun, as the dried flesh attaching the bones to each other swelled and grew. Parchment thin skin and muscle spread out over the bones, restoring a more human appearance. The stake smoldered and slowly burnt away as dark power surged through the reviving body. The skull became clothed in flesh once more and the eye sockets refilled. Then, the eyes snapped open with a hellish red glow. A faint hissing breath tore from lips thin, dried and pale. The body was no longer a skeleton but looked like the body of an emaciated old man dead a hundred years. Thought returned to the resurrected vampire, primitive and primal.

"Blood! Need more blood!"

**************************************************************************************************************

Steven had been practicing his lines and mannerisms for the role of the Count for a few minutes. He wasn't exactly pleased with his own performance.

"Velcome to the Crypt! Come in and, no, no I sound like if Count von Count was subbing for the Crypt keeper with that one!", Steven said with frustration. He wasn't happy with his vampire accent or the lines. Plus, this was not his dream gig. But it paid the bills. He was about to start again when he heard a strange noise.

"What is that?", he said. It sounded like scratching, kind of like a mouse running around on a wood surface. The Tomb was actually made of stone, so it wasn't in the walls. The wooden things were parts of the throne, the cupboard next to it and the coffin. He was closest to the coffin, so he put his ear against it.

Scritch Scratch Scritch

That was the sound he'd been hearing. It kept repeating every few seconds and seemed to be moving around

"Must be a mouse in the coffin, can't have that, it'll ruin the atmosphere", Steven thought. He looked and found the latches for the coffin lid and opened it. He started at the sight of the body in the coffin. It looked like an old corpse not skeleton like it should have. He opened his mouth to exclaim his surprise, when the bodies eyes snapped open, glowing red.

"What the fuc-!!!", he began, only for the vampire lunge from the coffin and sink its bared fangs into Steven's throat. Steve's exclamation tried to turn to a panicked yell, but only an agonized gasp came out. The vampire proceeded to drain Steven dry, his features wizening into those of an extremely old man then into a desiccated corpse. The vampire dropped the lifeless husk of the actor to the floor, as his own body underwent a transformation. Flesh filled out and smoothed in the firm muscle and skin of youth, the sparse and scraggly hair darkened and filled out into a fine dark head of hair. The facials features began those of man about thirty, with a roman nose, deep piercing eyes, and a pale complexion. High cheekbones and a strong jawline made him handsome.

His body was naked and pale, muscular in the manner of an athlete like a marathon runner or like combat soldier. Strong shoulders, a firm well defined set of abs and glutes, and well-sculpted pectorals gave him a body worthy of a Greek statue. And for the ladies, he did not disappoint, with a nice ten-inch long and nicely thick cock.

Count Vlad Dracula, the Impaler, the Bane of the Turks, and the Son the Dragon looked around at his surroundings. There was no confusion on his face, for he had absorbed the knowledge of the actor while feeding on him. So, he knew was in America and that it was the 21st century.

"Damn you Van Helsing, first you rob me of nearly fifty years then your successors rob of another eighty-seven!", the Count thought wrathfully, having been cut down in Romania by Quincy Morris in 1886, and not being resurrected till 1935. Then, heirs to the Van Helsing had returned him to the grave only a little more than a year later. Now, he was in the year 2023 and he had to start over.

"Well, this frolic might help me. The wretch who I drained was to play the version of me made popular by the Irishman's little fable, so they may appreciate the real one more!" Looking at Steven, he saw the quality of his costume and since they were about the same size, he stripped the dead actor and dressed. Then, he placed the naked husk in the coffin and shut it.

Walking to the throne he sat and began planning his new beginning for the 21st century in America. First, he needed to work out some frustrations as he was as they would say, horny as hell. He'd gone without either a mortal lover or vampire bride for too long, the last being Lucy Westernra. His one year of activity in the 1930s had been of too fevered and frantic a pace for the slaking of his lusts, so he'd done without. He eyed the bed in the tomb and gave a wicked grin.

"Perhaps some young lovely coming to this production will find herself learning the other reason I was called the Impaler!", he thought wickedly, " And perhaps she will find herself my first new bride if she is comely enough." Sitting back the vampire waited for the first guests to arrive, unaware that they might not ever be leaving.