“Oh I say Bunty, I remember playing here as a child, hiding from Nanny and the rest of the Undead Gefilters who were always trying to either kill me or make me one of them. They didn’t like me because I was mostly mortal.”
The crypt was filled with series ranks of Gefilter-Schleppings with carved reliefs of ancestors.
“So they do die sometime then?” asked Bunty looked at the curved noses, arrogant brows and razor like cheek bones of the ancient relatives.
“They did die ages ago then the impaling started, they started to drink the blood of their vanquished, or so it’s muttered by the peasants and hinted at by the historians…ooh what did we do with Professor Wood? He’d be awfully handy but anyway, maybe they developed a disease or something because they now roam abroad but go back to their “resting places” in the day.”
Lola leant against a tomb and lit a cigarette.
“We do have to talk about it.” said Bunty unwrapping a piece of marzipan Crypt cake, perfect for the occasion.
“I know.” said Lola, “It was that last step that we didn’t take last time to make sure that the curse was broken once and for all.”
“You mean sacrifice our own lives?” said Bunty.
“Well that’s what it advised in that book of yours written by a “Gentleman”, but you have to admit that the manner in which you came by it was rather odd and we never truly ascertained who the real author was.”
“That’s true”, said Bunty licking at the apricot jam, “a bit like Sherlock Holmes and what’s his face on the Reichenbach Falls.”
“Ooh yes!” said Lola excitedly, “We met him once didn’t we?’
“I don’t think he actually existed Lola.” said Bunty, “But yes I think you are right.”
“I say that monkey maid gave me a fright, I thought it was “Her” for a while.” said Lola.
“I say do you think it’s spawned?” asked Bunty in disgust.
“I think there is something darker abroad.” said Lola, with a hint of hope in her voice because she liked dark things.
“There are many entities that have shape shifting abilities, they have a true form in which they may be dispatched but they take on the form which is most feared by the victim!” said Lola.
“Could it be that all of our enemies are one?” asked Bunty.
“Well it would be jolly convenient if they were!” said Lola, brushing a roosting bat out of her hair, “Stop it cousin Freddy!” she hissed.
“Then what do we do, how do we rid ourselves of it?” said Bunty, “Silver bullets, a stake through the heart, pointy things with buttons falling off?”
“I know Bunty, there is only one solution and it is one that we have feared to take for many years, but now we finally have to do it or forever be damned; we have to go to THE WIRRAL!”