Vampires Everywhere, A Reunion

Edgar Frog

Ugh, finally. It was over.

For now anyways.

Edgar blinked hard as he fought back a heavy yawn that tickled the back of his throat. It was ten in the morning and he had been up for the past 42 hours. It always took a lot out of him when he had to prep and take out vampires on his own. But what could he do? As far was he was concerned this was his calling in life and he was just going to have to grin and bear it as best he could.

Yet things were not like they used to be. He was getting tired a lot quicker and his launcher was getting heavier all the time. God how he hated getting old.

"Better old than immortal." He thought grimly to himself as he turned on the tap and began to scrub off the vampire residue that had dried in a hard crust on the carbon fibre stake in his hands. The Woody Woodpecker heckler had been easy enough to eradicate but Edgar still didn't take a chance with mere decapitation. Nah, nothing was as sure proof as the old stake to the heart routine.

Twisting his head sharply to the side, Edgar cracked a kink in his neck and let out a tired sigh. One glass of Frogjuice mixed with whatever instant coffee he had left in the trailer and then he was hitting the sack.

Edgar debated over the price range of the Emerson's bill as he slowly began to scrub the caked on blood off of his face and neck. Should he charge them full price for his services or should he give them the family discount? They were exactly family but he knew their parents and their uncle. He could give them a bit of a break. After all, they had gone to the brink of damnation and spat in the devil's face. He had to give them that.

Whap whap whap!

Edgar froze half hunched over the tiny sink as he opened his eyes and listened. It was broad daylight and he had enough crucifixes and vampire wards set up to keep dozens of vampires at bay so he instantly checked off vampire off his list of suspects. Who the hell would be coming around here at this time of the day? Or just coming around here period?

"Who is it?" Edgar barked as he rested his weight on his elbows and tilted his head to the side to get better hearing reception.

"Open up man. We gotta talk." A muffled voice whined from the other side of the trailer's paper thin metal door. Edgar swallowed hard as the familiarity of that voice struck home.

What the hell was he doing here?

"Whatever you have to say you can say through the door." Edgar growled as he straightened up and shook the water off his hands. He didn't bother grabbing a rag.

A heavy pause hung in the air for a moment as Edgar waited to see what his visitor would do now. He wasn't going to invite him into his home; he wasn't going to give the guy the time of day. As far was he was concerned Sam Emerson was no friend of his.

"You might not want to put those stakes away just yet man. ...You got company on the way." Sam sighed through the wire mesh screen that covered what used to be a small window. There was no point in trying to force his way in because the Frog would probably drive a stake through his heart for breaking and entering. Little did Sam realize how close to the mark that assumption was.

Edgar lowered his hands as his eyes quickly swept around the cramped quarters of his mobile home. There were garlands of garlic strung up on every wall, stakes, crosses and various different styles of crucifixes affixed to every surface. Missing posters and flyers wall-papered what little space there was left. All this and more was the result of his endless battle with the legions of the undead. But no matter how many he killed more just showed up in their place.

Growling softly to himself Edgar closed his eyes and squared his shoulders. Sam wouldn't have taken the time to track him down and come always out to this shit-hole just to catch up for old time's sake. If he was here, there was a damn good reason for it.