He sits there in the musty darkness, his mind racing about what to do next. "As soon as the sun sets,I should...." He pauses, contemplating. "What am I going to do?" Edward Thompson asks himself. He looks around the room, taking in it's silent, claustrophobic atmosphere. The heavy drapes, his only daytime guardian...like a wall of stone between him and certain destruction. Cracked, aged paintings dress each wall and heavy, antique bedroom furniture is all about the room. He scanns the room again, amazed at how sharp his vision is in the darkness and his eyes lock on a familiar face in a very old painting. A young girl who looks very much like someone he knows. He smiles..."Amy."
Charley Brewster also sits alone in his cluttered room wondering what to do next... Amy was gone and he is angry. "I'll call her...NO! I can't...not yet. I need to talk to someone about this....get some advice. I should call Evil...no...Ev-.. Ed is dead". Sunday morning has brought only woe to this eighteen year old boy. "What the hell happened last night?" He asks himself, his thoughts rewind to the events of last evening...
His mother Judy was at work and Charley and Amy had snuggled together on his bed, they were kissing hungrilly...groping, nearly devouring each other. Still fully dressed, but naked in their thoughts of what they were about to do. Charley knew he was finally going to score with Amy. They were going to go all the way. The posters and autographed photos of various monsters, horror movies and actors watch them from the walls...not casting judgement, but goading Charley on. "Oh yeah boy, you're gonna make it this time,go Charley, go..." Urged on to more ravenous love-making by his imaginary cheering squad, they knew how much he wanted it. Two weeks had passed since they faced the menace of Jerry Dandridge. An event, Charley was trying to forget, hardly believing it had really happened. Amy had promised a number times to give herself to him. Each time, she would stop him with excuses of why they shouldn't have sex. Charley was frustrated and worried...worried that something was wrong. In the midst of their passion he got up, turned the t.v. on and switched it to channel thirteen. He made himself smile, thinking things couldn't be that bad between them... besides, If he didn't go all the way with Amy tonight, at least he still got to watch Fright Night. Peter Vincent was going to present one of his best movies..."Orgy Of The Damned". Charley loved this film... Charley loved all Peter's movies...in all their cheesy glory. "Chaarrleeee..." Amy needily implored from the dishevelled bed. "Can't we watch something else, for once?" Charley turned swiftly from the television "What?!" He inquires shocked."What do you mean...?" Amy's forehead crinkled. "I just...it's just that I don't want to watch that anymore." She couldn't bring herself to say the show's title, and she tried not to look at the screen."It's...it's for kids, Charley." His jaw dropped and his eyes popped wider. "What the hell do you mean...for kids??!!" Amy's face turned glacial. "Charley...you need to grow up. You have to watch it everytime it's on... and after all we've been through...you can't let it go..." Charley's face turned red, very quickly. "I can't let...what...go?" He hissed. "Monsters...and vampires...what is wrong with you?" She Amy hates confrontation...especially with someone she cares for. Her stomach knotted up. "You scare me, Charley." She sat up on the bed, her arms crushed her knees to her chest like a teenage fetus. "Amy...I thought you liked Fright Night.." "YOU like...Fright Night! NOT me...And this isn't about Fright Night...It's about us, Charley!" Amy couldn't hold her tears in, any longer. They streamed over her soft cheeks and made wet lines to her jaw. "Charley...I can't be with you, anymore. The past few weeks have been a Nightmare." She sobbed. "Being around you, just reminds me of the horror we went through! I need to get away from you, Charley... far away!" Charley was speechless, His mouth was hanging open. "I can't help but think this is all your fault... that you brought all this evil on us." Amy spat as she got up from the bed, put on her coat and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Good bye, Charley." She turned to the door. Charley leapt across the room, grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him. "DAMMIT,AMY?! What are you talking about?!...I didn't bring Jerry Dandridge here! I did'nt cause this!" "Charley...I know. I know you didn't....but I can't be your girlfriend. I thought I could make it work...but it's not going to work...ever!" "Amy, we can make it work...we can get through this...." "No Charley, No. Good bye." She wrenched from his grasp and bolted through the door. "Amy!" "AMY!!!" Charley wailed after her as she ran down the stairs, toward the front door. He got to the upstairs landing, grasping the newly repaired banister and looked down into the foyer in time to see the door slam shut. He didn't run after her, he's not sure why. He simply returned to his room in shock and sat. He soon slipped into bed, forgetting all about Fright Night and "Orgy Of The Damned." His monster friends tried to comfort him..."You don't need her, better off without her..." He pulled the covers over his head and groaned. "Shut up!" He didn't think he could sleep, but his body soon .
Charley is pulled from the memory as he hears his mother come home. It is seven thirty a.m. and Charley Brewster's mind is racing.
Many hours later, nearly sunset, and an unfamiliar ringing jars an aging, former screen and stage star from his chair-nap. Peter Vincent runs to answer his phone, nearly falling on the way... housecoat flapping around his legs. "I haven't had a call in days. Maybe it's my agent with a new role in a film...or perhaps a play, Theater would be nice." He thinks, thrilling at the prospect of some acting work. "Hello, Peter Vincent speaking." He chimes, a large smile across his face. "Hi Peter, It's Charley...How are you doing?" Peter slumps...but only slightly. "Oh...hello, Charley. I'm feeling quite well, thank you. What can I do for you?" "I...need someone to talk to...can I come over?"Charley says, his guts twisting up inside. "Of course, do you need me to come pick you up?" Peter offers, enjoying the thoughts of charley's company. "Oh, no thanks...I just got my car back from the shop. Dandridge really messed it up. I can be there in about fifteen minutes or so... if that's okay?" "That's fine,Charley. I'll be here." Charley smiles. "Thanks, Peter...I really appreciate it...see you soon." "O.K." Peter responds as he hangs up. He returns to his wingback chair and settles into it. As he wonders what might be wrong, his eyes droop and his head... soon begins to nod.
The sun is setting and Evil Ed Goes to the window. He peeks out to see it's last rays streaking the clouds overhead. He notices something going on next door... at Charley's house. Ed watches as Charley hops into his car, A heavily repaired red 68 Mustang. Ed then decides to follow his former friend... he opens the window and leaps out. The air sweeps across his cool flesh, as he falls. He concentrates, his body rippling like water. It reshapes into a huge bat-like form, He stretches out his wings, floats to a huge, nearby oak and alights among the gnarled limbs. Hanging upside down from the ancient tree, he watches...Charley starts the vintage auto and backs out of the drive. As Charley leaves, Evil Ed flutters from his oaken perch and swoops after him...expelling a twisted giggle. "This could be fun..." Ed ponders as a crooked, fanged sneer crosses his chiropteric face. He soon knows exactly where Charley is headed as he turns onto Badham Boulevard and then down Coolidge Avenue.
Charley arrives outside Peter's apartment building at 745 Coolidge Avenue...he exits the Mustang and the hairs on his neck become erect. He knows he's being watched...or at least, he feels like it. He scans the dark street...the street lights barely illuminate the area. A few parked, empty cars line the sidewalk, and Charley sees no sign of life nearby. A creeping darkness enshrouds the entire block, a thick mist surrounds him. Charley shivers and runs to the door of Peter's building. He scans the street again...he sees nothing, Coolidge Ave. is almost ink black. Hearing rustling sounds in the trees near the street, an animal-like growl or grunt from the darkness. Charley begins to panic, his sweating hand slips on the door handle... once... twice...finally it grips, the perspiration almost squeeks under his hand's pressure. He wrenches the door open and bolts inside, slamming it shut behind him. he sprints the elevator...Panting, he pushes the button for the sixth floor. The doors close and he feels a little more at ease. Charley runs the hall to Peter's door. He looks back...the hall is dark, a cold darkness that Charley knew wasn't there when he entered the hall. He turns to door number six thirty four and begins to beat upon it like an insane Heavy Metal drummer."Peter! Peter!!!" He wails. "Who's there?!" Peter shouts over the din of the door abuse. "It's Charley... Peter, open up!" The freaked, eighteen year old squeeks, as he frantically pans the hallway for signs of danger. "Just a second, Charley." The older gentleman says...Charley hears Peter fumbling with the locks inside. The boy bounces slightly as if he has to urinate, his eyes bulging.
The door swings open after what seems an hour to him and Charley plows through the portal, giving Peter no time for a proper greeting. He pushes Peter aside and slams the door behind him. He almost thinks he hears a manic giggling in the hall outside as the locks click shut. "Charley...What on earth is wrong?!" His sleepy host questions, very concerned and a little annoyed at the boy's rudeness. "I..um..nothing...uh...I'm o.k. Just a little freaked out." The teen stands trembling and out of breath. "Charley, talk to me...what happened?!" The boy pants heavilly, barely able to stand. "Well...first, come and sit down before you collapse." Peter leads Charley over to the sofa and helps him sit. He then hurries over to the kitchen and gets a glass of water. Charley gulps the fluid, nearly choking and gasps as he finishes it. "Easy...Charley relax, everything is fine." The older man reassures, his brow wrinkling in anxiousness.
In the hall outside, Evil Ed smiles, pondering. "I could just bust the door in and...Damn! No...wait...I could knock and when Peter opens the door, I bite him in the neck! NO,NO,NO! So many cool things I could do...but they might just kill...me...like they did the Mast--Jerry." Twinges of sadness and a flood of loneliness in this immortal boy begin to boil to the surface. "It's all their fault...The way I am...Jerry gone." He fumes, pacing the hardwood floor. He jumps at a sound from inside Peter's place, fearing that he may be discovered. He is terrified. And unsure of what to do... he decides to head outside to spy on his former friend and idol. "They won't see me if I'm careful...I have to be careful." He goes to the stairs and leaps down into the darkness and in the blink of an eye, he is outside.
Charley takes a few deep breaths and calms himself. " I thought someone was after me outside and in the hall, just now... But there was'nt anyone there...I guess...I must have imagined it. I'm sorry, Peter." The aging actor pats the boy on the back. "Charley...it's o.k. We went through a terrible trial with Dandridge...it's going to take a while to get over all of it. I, myself have recently had that same experience... I feel the need to keep watching over my shoulder."Peter surpresses a shiver. " "I start therapy next week, my mom thinks it would be a good idea." Charley says as he tries to calm down. "Oh...Charley?!...What have you told her?" Peter inquires, taken aback by Charley's statement. "Not much...as far as she knows, Dandridge was a serial killer and nothing more... and I want to keep it that way." "I understand, but do you think going to therapy is wise? I mean...what are you going to say about what happened?" Peter asks in concern. "I don't know yet...I have'nt really thought about it...anyway, that's not why I came to see you."Charley clears his throat and continues. "It's about Amy..and I."
Ed clings to the wall, outside the very window he smashed through weeks ago, after his failed attempt to kill Peter Vincent. He was sent there by Jerry Dandridge to stop any possible interference from the washed-up actor. Ed was obviously not up to the task. He pleaded with Jerry for another Chance, but where did that get him...dead. Dead for a short while, but Ed does'nt want to die again...ever. He quiets his mind and listens.
"What is, Charley? You can tell me." Peter is curious, but also concerned with his young friend's well being. "Amy...does'nt want to be around me, anymore...I remind her of what happened, she said." Peter sits back in his chair, his face dropping. "Oh...Charley, I'm sorry to hear that." The eighteen year old continues, beginning to get visibly agitated. "She even blamed me at one point, for everything that happened." "Charley, I'm sure she did'nt mean it." Peter tries to comfort him. "I know...she said she did'nt, not really. But it is my fault, in a way. If I kept what I saw to myself...kept my mouth shut. None of this would have happened." "Charley Brewster, don't you even think such a thing...you did the right thing! Dandridge was a monster! He was killing people and he would have continued to do so, had you not done something." Peter is upset, and rightly so. They went through a kind of hell a few weeks ago. They did the right thing in destroying the vampire. However, in the back of Peter's mind, he has doubts. He remembers Charley pleading with him for help...he remembers being terrified and turning the boy away. He remembers, changing his mind and risking his life to help Charley and Amy...a small part of him wishes he had'nt. The coward in him rears his head, Peter promptly pushes that side of himself away for now...a friend needs him. "Peter, it's over...is'nt it? What am I going to do?" Charley wipes his tearing eyes. He cries, not just because he's lost his girlfriend, but also the stress of events of a couple of weeks ago. "You'll go on. And you'll heal. We all will. Maybe Amy just needs time and some space. We all need some time to deal with what happened to us." Peter's words soften the pain Charley feels. "Yeah...you're right, Peter. If we survived this,we can survive anything." "Yes Charley...exactly. I think someone once said... "What does not kill us, can only make us stronger." And I believe that to be true."
"This is so great!" Ed Thompson giggles, perched outside the building. "Brewster, you jerk! You're getting just what you deserve." The anger on Ed's face, nearly boils the night air around him. "You used to be my friend...and then Amy came along and ruined everything. I thought I might make you pay for abandoning me...but this is working just fine. Peter Vincent is another story...I"ll make him suffer for what he did to me." Ed remembers the cross burning into his forehead. The horrible agony, the smell of his seared, dead flesh. Then the tableleg in his chest at the Brewster home...such pain he could never have imagined. Everything went black...he was dead. He vowed that it would never happen again and that he would get even with Peter Vincent...someday.
"Charley...you look exhausted. Why don't I fix the sofa and you can sleep here tonight." "Thanks, Peter...I think I will. I 'm feeling a little wiped out. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" "Of course not, go ahead, I'll get some sheets and a pillow." Peter hurries off to his room, while Charley goes to relieve himself.
Peter dresses the sofa with clean linens and an old soft, blue blanket. Charley returns just as Peter is fluffing the pillow. "there's a couple of new toothbrushes in the medicine chest if you need one. I am going to bed myself...are you going to be alright? Peter asks. "Thanks, I'll be fine." Charley smiles."Thank you, Peter... for everything." reassured by his talk with Peter. "You are very welcome... now get some sleep. It's gotten very late." Peter grins at the boy, hoping he'll have a restful night. Peter, himself has not slept much in the weeks since the horror Jerry dandridge wrought upon them. His nights are filled with fears and imagined things that go bump in the darkness. Charley returns to the bathroom, brushes his teeth, washes his face and stares for a time into the face in the mirror. He wonders if things would be much different had the vampire not come to Rancho Corvalis.
"Well that was'nt much fun." Evil Ed frowns. He pushes off the side of the building and his form again shifts to another. Leathery wing membranes press down against the air and he rises up to the stars. They call to him...their light is alive to him. He can hear, see and smell so many more things, than he could when he was alive. His cold undead skin thrills to the feeling of the air rushing past it. He smells something...sweat,skin...people. His meat and drink... just below. He had'nt been out for a few nights and his stomache was practically roaring with hunger...for hot, red, blood. "I can't be scared anymore...not with the power I have." He strengthens himself...he is powerful...and immortal. He felt like a god and the people below were his sustenance. He licked his dry, cold lips at the thought of the coming feast.
Chuck Powell and Butch Masey were leaving the gym feeling pumped. "great work-out tonight, chuck...do you want to go to my place and work on our algebra?" butch smiled at his classmate, and fellow high school bully. "Sure, that's cool. You you want to pick up something to eat on the way?" "Sounds swell to me...can I come too?" A voice like nails on a chalkboard resounds from the darkness. The two brawny teens stop and turn to the alley they were passing to see a thin, pasty-faced kid with crazily-spiked, sandy hair emerging from it. The boy smiles at them... a demonic smile, to say the least. "OoooooH...this is going to be a riot!" Ed thinks, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "What do you want, kid?" Chuck asks... his Blond, eyebrows rising, expressing his puzzled state. "Wait...don't we know this twerp?" Butch inquires, his brow knitting together in deep concetration. "Oh yeah...it's Ed Thompson...that geek from science class." Chuck replies, and a wicked smile comes across his face. "Hey Ed...What are you doing out...won't your mommy get worried? Little girls like you can get hurt on a dark night like this." Chuck cracks his knuckles, readying himself for some fun. "C'mon Butch...Let's show Eddie, he should be home in bed like all good little geeks." Ed stands his ground, the smirk on his face glows brighter. "What're you smilin' at, ya freak?!" Chuck spits angrilly at the small boy's amusement. "Uh...Chuck...is'nt that Ed kid...dead?" Butch whispers. "Huh?" Chuck mutters, his brain begins to work, gears are grinding, cogs spinning somewhere up in the cobwebs. Ed is gone and the boys are dumbfounded. They twist about, looking all around them. "Where the hell did he go?" Chuck grunts in confusion. "Let's just get out of here...this is freaking me out!" Butch whines, pulling on his comrade's arm. "Leaving so soon?" Ed cackles as he reappears behind the terrified boys. "Fuckin' punk...I'll rip you a new Asshole!!" Chuck lunges at Ed, his face red with rage, sweat beading on his brow. Ed dodges the charge easily and his hand locks around the bigger boy's throat. "Chuck!" Butch shrieks, almost like a little girl. His companion can't answer, except for a choked "gakk!" His face is now turning purple. Butch turns to run...it does him no good, as Ed grabs the boy's brunnette hair and pulls him off his feet. His spine slams against the concrete, his head bounces as it hits a split-second later. "Do you guy's remember that time you cornered me in the woods, behind the football field? Or the time out by the cafeteria? That was'nt very nice, now was it?" Ed squeezed Chuck's neck a bit harder...a tiny squeek was pinched out of the compressing trachea. "You boy's need a lesson in manners, I think." Ed released Chuck's throat and the teen gasped as he fell to the sidewalk. Butch groaned from the ground and blinked his eyes, trying to focus. "I wanted to have some fun...but now I'm just hungry. I guess you will have to treat me to dinner." Ed giggled and licked his lips. "Wha- what do you m-mean?" Butch croaked up at him. "Watch." Ed said as he reached over to Chuck who was still trying to catch his breath, on his knees, clutching his throat and hunched over. Ed placed both of his hands on the gasping teen's head and pulled. With a sickening crunching, tearing sound, along with Chuck's last gasp his head came off. Butch could'nt scream or even move, but he saw it all...as a shower of blood hit him. Ed giggled as he leaned into the stream of crimson, his abnormally long tongue flailing about in it. "Mmmmmmmm-Mmmm! Just like mom used to make!" Ed wailed, half laughing. Butch's body began to move again, his hands groping for a grip in order for him to get up. He twists and his hand grabs onto something...warm, hairy, and shaped like a...head. Butch finds his voice again in a scream worthy of the most talented scream-queens in the horror movies Ed loves. The vampire boy chuckles even louder to see his former bully in mortal terror. He squirms away...crawling like a lizard toward the street. He manages to stand. "Now Butchie..." He turns at Ed's whining voice. "The team will be so disappointed if you forget your ball." Ed is holding the bloodied head of his friend. He lobs the gruesome object at Butch and who screams as it hits him. The impact knocks the young man backward into the street. He gets up and attempts to run, Ed is on him like lightning. "You owe me a dinner, Butch Masey!" Ed cackles with glee. Butch tries to push the scrawny kid off of him to no avail. Ed pulls the struggling, larger boy up and coldly snaps his neck, twisting the head almost all the way around. Ed remembers his vampire lore... That if the head is'nt removed or the victim killed already, they will return as the undead once they are drained of their blood. He bites into the boy's meaty, twisted neck and the blood gushes into his dry mouth...quenching his unholy thirst. Ed feels a sense of satisfaction at having his revenge on these bullies, who so often, would torment and beat him. He smiles and wonders what other entertainment he can find this night. "Ooooh, the neighbors called the cops...you boys were too loud." The sounds of approaching sirens, informs him to take his meal elsewhere. In a flash he leaps to the roof of the nearby one-story market. He finishes his meal amid the flashing blue lights and the sounds of police radios. Once he has had his fill, he is gone into the darkness.
Ed Had enjoyed the vile act he had just performed, yet a part of him was sickened. However, these brutal killings were not his first and very probably not his last. The first victim of Ed's bloodthirst, was a young woman on the very night that Jerry turned him. Ed remembers that she screamed briefly, when he attacked her and he cried as he drank her blood. A part of him loves the power he has and part of him loathes what he has become. He is torn by the horrible things he has done to others and the pleasures that being one of the undead offers. "I'm going home." He says to himself, as his bat-like form glides over the darkened town. He wills his body to change over a rooftop and lands in his human form. He stands near the edge, gazing out across the town of Rancho Corvalis. He can see no people on the streets...the only life he sees are pidgeons sleeping on building ledges, the occasional cat or rat in the alleys and insects winging around in the night sky. The sky is empty of his kind... he is so alone. He wonders where else in the world, there are more like him. In the next moment, Ed has leapt over the side of the roof, his body now adapted to flight and he continues toward home...the former house of his master.
Ed is nearing his new home when he notices his family's house below him. He lands again, an idea coming into his head. He longs for certain reminders of his former life. "I'll get my comics and models...and maybe... see mom and dad." He thinks and then pauses a moment. "No...they don't give a damn about me...to hell with them." He huffs as his body becomes a cloud of mist. the vaporous form slips through the cracks of the front door and seconds later, he is inside. He walks to his old room, noticing that nothing has changed. He opens the door to his room and finds it very different. His monster models are'nt there, nor are his bookshelves filled with his comics, his bed is stipped of it's linens and all his posters are gone. His face becomes twisted with anger...he has barely been dead and gone for two weeks and his parents got rid of his things. "AAAAAARRRRGGHHHHH!!!" He roars, not thinking about the consequences. "Les, What was that?!" He hears his mother shriek from her bedroom."Damn." Ed spits, trying to keep himself quiet as he is already transforming into mist. Lester Thompson, flashlight in hand, comes into the room. He Scans empty bed room for trouble, but finds nothing except the dust and the silence. He continues through the house. "There's nothing here, Marge." Ed overhears this, now hiding outside near his former bedroom window. "Keep looking, Lester...I'm not going to be able to sleep, until I know everything is alright..." His mother wails from inside the little yellow house.
Ed walks away from his former home and down the street. "I guess I can go back later and get my stuff...they probably put it all in the attic." "Damn you, mom and dad! you could'nt wait to clean my room out, could you!" He Rants, wishing almost that he had killed them...but no. He's not sure he could do that. They're still his parents, no matter how unfit they were. He proceeds toward his new home at 99 Oak Street, kicking a can out of his way as he goes.
Looking at the ground as he walks, Ed feels a strange warmth...his eyes bolt upward and he realizes his terrible danger. The sky is a dark blue, but it's reddish streaks warn him of impending doom. the stars are lost in the ever-brightening sky of morning. "AAAHHHH!" He screams as his walk becomes a sprint. Rays of light begin to poke through the leaves near the the horizon and Ed starts to smoke. "AAAAARRRHHHH!!!!" He wails as he runs down Oak Street, pulling his jacket over his head. He gets to the large oak tree near the Dandridge house and stops, cowering behind it. He mewls in pain like a kicked dog, his flesh steaming. He leaps into the air and tramsforms again. His winged form smokes in the increasing sunlight as he flaps, shrieking to the rear of the house. He dives toward the large second-story circular window, now covered with plastic. His smoldering, screaming bat-form slams through the plastic with a loud crackling. His now human body strikes the top of the stairs and he begins the tumble down them. "OW!..OOOH!...OOOf!...AAGH!" Hitting almost every step on the way to the foyer floor. He lay in a heap for a few moments, groaning in pain and still smoking.
Charley wakes and dresses early...after a night of restless sleep. Peter has juice, toast and chive-omelettes ready for breakfast and they talk while they eat. "So...I should give her some time, and ...maybe things will work out okay?" Charley asks as he picks at his toast. "I think it's the best thing to do, Charley...You both need time. Let her be the one to make the choice to communicate with you...don't force it." Peter drinks a bit of his juice and continues..."I think your going to therapy, is a good idea too." "Really Peter?...but last night you did'nt think it was a good move." "I know...but if it helps you work through the pain and darkness that Dandridge brought into our lives, then I think it's for the best." Peter smiles at his young friend. "Thanks, Peter...your input really means a lot to me." Charley smiles back. "I'd better go... mom might start to worry...she's been really paranoid since this whole thing with Dandridge happened." "That's understandable...knowing that vampires are real, has made me rather paranoid as well. It's probably a good thing she does'nt know about that part of the story." Peter finishes as he bits into his toast. "thanks for everything, Peter." Charley gets up, heads to the door and Peter follows, chewing his toast. "You're very welcome, my boy...if ever need anything, please don't hesitate to give me a call." They hug and Charley puts his coat on. "Thanks...see you later." Charley says as he opens the door and steps into the hall. "Yes." Peter answers as Charley walks away to the elevator.
Charley hurries home to get ready for school and hopes that his situation with Amy will turn out for the best. He starts his beat-up Mustang and pulls out of the parking space, clicking on the radio. On the way home he bobs his head to Pat Benatar's "Heartbreaker". He pulls into his driveway and parks his car...on the way to his front door he thinks he smells a faint odor of cooking meat. "Someone must be having a barbeque."
Evil Ed slowly manages to drag himself to a dark corner of the foyer. He moans as his skin scars over and oozes. It peels off in some places and He feels as if he will scream. "N...Nice t..tan, you got th-there, Eddie." He says aloud, barely able to form the words with tears running down his face. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!!" He scolds himself as he tries not to move. Moving equals pain. "I've got to be more careful... I got distracted and that could be the end of me." He sits in agony as the sun rises over the waking town.
Ed awakens to the sound of someone at the door...the fumbling of keys and people talking. "Shit!" The front door opens and in a split-second, Ed is on the upstairs landing watching from the shadows. "The house needs a little work, but as you'll soon see...it's worth the price we're asking for it." A short, black haired man with a mustache says to a young, professional-looking couple. "It's perfect, Mr. Hoffman...I sense it has a nice aura."The beautiful red-tressed woman replies."Yes... It will suit our needs." Her equally atractive, jet-haired male companion adds. Ed slinks further into the shadows...the woman looks in his direction and for a moment, he thinks she has seen him... She has'nt. "What is it, that you folks do...anyway?" The realtor Hoffman asks, eyeing the couple curiously. "We are psychic mediums...and hope to start a business here."The woman responds. "business?" The small realtor huffs. "Palm readings, divinations, seances, and such..." The red-head says as she looks the place over...peeking into the living room and the back hall. "Oh...my wife's into all that...Oh! No offense, Mrs. Collins... but I don't have much faith in that psychic stuff." Mr. Hoffman sniffs. "Let me show you around the house more and you can let me know if you're interested or not." The Little Real estate agent leads the strange couple into the rear hall and they head toward the kitchen.
"Damn...What am I going to do now?" Ed wonders how he's going to avoid being discovered. He knows there have been other people in the house, while he sleeps during the day...it is only dumb luck that has kept him from being found. There have been repairmen and probably realtors...he is unsure of how many. He's had to find better hiding places before, while other times his sleep has been undisturbed. "I'm weak and if they find me...I don't think I can defend myself." He begins to pace the floor. "The attic!...It's got lot's of hiding places...I should be safe up there." He says to reassure him- self, not wholly believing it. He hurries to the attic stairway... trying to be as quiet as he can. Once in the attic, he hides in the darkest corner he can find...his skin is still peeling and he winces as he squeezes himself into the small space.
The trio tour the entire house and Ed is relieved to not be discovered. They leave and Ed is happy to overhear the weird couple decide to check out a couple of other houses, before they make a decision. His home will not be disturbed for little while, at least. He now realizes that this house can't be his permanent residence...he will have to find a new shelter...soon.
Charley has an uneventful day of school...he did'nt see Amy at all, she really went out of her way to avoid him it seems. He even asked Bethany Summers, a friend of Amy's if she was at school today... Bethany said she had seen her during art, but Amy did'nt say much. the whole senior class was readying itself for graduation in three weeks...Charley sat in his room and found himself wishing Ed could be there. "Charley!...It's Amy on the phone." Judy Brewster calls from the living room. Charley did'nt even hear the phone ring, but that did'nt matter...it was Amy...and she wanted to talk to him! He leapt down the stairs as fast as he could, nearly grabbing the phone from his smiling mother's hand. "Thanks mom." Judy walks away with a big grin on her face, not knowing what had happened between the two teen lovebirds. "Hi...Amy?...How are y-" "Charley, just let me say what I need too!" Amy cuts him off. "I want you to know that I care about you, please don't forget that." "I care about you too, Amy...and.." "Charley, please!" She interupts again. "There are things that I need to work through and things I've learned about myself that I don't know how to deal with. Feelings I've been having that you would'nt understand...feelings I don't even understand." Her voice is quivering and sounding very fragile. "Amy, I want you to know I'm willing to give you the time you need... to work on the things that are bothering you, but I'm your boyfriend and I'm here for you." Charley is shaking and his sweaty hand tightens on the phone. "Charley...please don't make this harder than it already is. It means a lot to me that your willing to help me, but I don't want your help. Charley holds his breath and a tear spills from the corner of his eye. "Charley, I hope someday...we can be friends, maybe even best friends, But I can't...and wont be your girlfriend." Amy's voice is a bit stronger now. "Amy...no...you can't mean that...you just need some time...right?" Charley begins to sob. " No Charley, I mean it...it's over...please don't call me...good bye." The click on the line is the last nail in the coffin. Charley falls back into the chair, tears streaming down his face...the handset of the phone falls to the floor. Judy Brewster walks in and sees her son and runs over to him. "Charley...what's wrong, honey?" The sobbing boy gulps out an answer. "Amy...b-broke up with me..." "Oh... Charley, I'm so sorry...is there anything I can do?" She attempts to embrace her son, knowing he's had it rough the past few weeks. "Just leave me alone...okay?" He nearly snaps,pushing her away... but softens. "I'll be fine." He gets up and climbs the stairs as if he's climbing the gallows. Judy watches him go, she then hangs the phone up and goes to the kitchen to take a Valium, she can't wait for him to start therapy... "Maybe he'd like some cocoa."
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