Fight... Fight... Fight...

As part of a "blog chain" today, the topic is "FIGHT SCENES", so I give you this: big sister, Julie, has set up little sister, Lucy, with a blind date. She didn't know that the blind date came with fangs or that the family was on the menu.

Cue up Eye of the Tiger on the Ipod and enjoy.


"Excuse me... I don't feel very well..."

Lucy threw her napkin into her plate and ran for the stairs. No idea where she thought she was going to go, but she couldn't sit there and pretend everything was fine. Maybe if she left he'd leave, too.

Her mother yelled something she didn't bother to listen to, and the vampire made a hasty exit of his own.

She should have known that it was too easy.

Lucy headed for the one room with a lock so no one could follow her, slammed the door and rested her head against it.

"Food doesn't belong in the bathroom, snack cake."

She was shaking too hard to undo the deadbolt, even if he wasn't there to stop her. She didn't turn, so he did it for her, spinning Lucy by her shoulders. Behind Dixon, the window was wide open on the second floor.

Vampires: no such thing as inaccessible.

"What do you want?"

Stupid question.

"First, I want you to remember your inside voice. We aren't alone. You're going to collect yourself, then you're going to unlock that door, walk down the stairs and out the door, then you and I are going to go for a walk."

Lucy shook her head, since her voice refused to work.

"Oh yes you are." He nodded. "Think of it as dining al fresco as opposed to a big family dinner."

The chill beneath his words warned her the safety of those downstairs depended on her actions. Her or everyone else. He'd kill them if she didn't agree.

"Please don't do this. I wasn't trying to bait you. Or insult you... I swear."

"I don't negotiate with livestock. And I'd just as soon have the smorgasbord. The young one's not exactly my taste, but I abhor waste. I guess I'll have to ..."

"Don't you touch her!"

Lucy shrieked, drew back and rammed the heel of her hand into his nose, an automatic reflex from a long forgotten self-defense class. He shouldn't have threatened Haylie. She surveyed the room scanning for any means of salvation she could find.

Comb.

Brush.

Make-up.

Deodorant.

One advantage of a regular sized house was that the rooms were small. She could reach the sink from anywhere except the bathtub. Lucy's hand shot out and grasped the first thing it touched, she hadn't even bothered to put the lid on the hairspray when she used it earlier. She whipped the can up even with Dixon's face and pressed the aerosol nozzle.

Bloodied hands grabbed his eyes, stumbling backward and hissing. She didn't stop until the can was empty. He toppled through the curtain into the tub.

Lucy was smart enough to know that she'd only slowed him down, and made him mad. She needed something more detrimental to the species. While the monster of a vampire was busy trying to save his burning eyes, she lunged for the second drawer of the cabinet.

Hair sticks weren't the only thing her grandmother left her, or the only thing she owned made out of silver. The confined space meant Lucy's adversary couldn't get enough leverage to move at his full speed. Every parry was clumsy, giving her hope.

She reached in blind and wrapped her hand around the weighted handle of an antique mirror molded from the toxic metal. She swung it like a tennis racket, shattering the glass against his jaw. Dixon's flesh blackened at each point of contact where the shards embedded in his skin.

Old mirrors weren't just made of silver, the glass was backed with it to cast the reflection. Outside the door, someone pounded, demanding entry. Julie was livid that her dinner had been ruined. Humiliated.

"What's going on in there?!"

Lucy was stuck. She couldn't open the door with a transformed vampire in the room. Even if she did, everyone in the house would be dead before she could warn them. His only incentive to leave the alive was to make sure none of them saw him as anything other than human.

"What's that noise?"

Dixon's thrashing carried through the wood.

"Stop throwing tantrums and get out here Lucy!"

Lucy took a step toward the door, then found herself looking up at a ceiling blocked by the vamp's face with one hand over her mouth and the other gripping the collar of her sweater like he meant to tear it off her shoulders. His full weight rested on one knee across her stomach. Dixon's wild eyes sparkled with a manic satisfaction that had nothing to do with vampire shine.

"Don't scream," he ordered before releasing her mouth.

"I'll go with you... just don't hurt my family."

"Tell her to leave. Calmly."

His captive nodded as best she could.

"Jules, I'll be down in a minute. Go away!"

There was a screech from her sister's side of the door. Then stomping. Then silence.

"Not bad, but I think I may have to penalize you for the display. I think it'll cost you one of them."

"No!"

"Do you want to pick, or should I? It was a small error, so maybe I'll take the small one."

"No! Please... leave them alone. Leave Haylie alone."

"No more arguments?"

She shook her head.

"You'll do as you're told."

A nod.

"Good."

Dixon shifted his weight off her stomach and dropped the hand at her throat to the dragon pendant around her neck.

"You won't be needing this anymore."

He tightened his fist and yanked until the necklace broke against her, then stashed it in his pocket. He flipped Lucy over, shoved her face first into the floor, then bent close to her neck, pulled her sweater aside and licked her from shoulder to ear.

"Delicious... I'll be waiting, snack cake."

Then he was gone.

Lucy went fetal on the floor and started crying, mourning her own death. Why was Alexander a dream when the nightmares got to be real?