The tension in the room was palpable as the group huddled in Stacey's pink-themed fortress. Downstairs, the sound of crashing metal, growls, and the creaking of the floorboards echoed ominously through the house. It was clear that whatever had entered was now prowling through the mansion, brushing off the traps as mere annoyances.
Brad kept his grip tight on the lamp he was holding as a makeshift weapon, his eyes wide with fear. He stood by the window, as if considering the possibility of jumping out rather than facing whatever was downstairs.
"I thought the dumbbells would do more than just piss it off," Tammy muttered, glancing out of the barricaded door. "What the hell are we dealing with?"
"Something bad," Derek whispered, his back still pressed against the wall, clutching his dice as though they could protect him. "Really, really bad."
Stacey, trying to maintain some semblance of cheerfulness, fluffed the pillows on her bed nervously. "It's okay, guys. We still have the flamethrower trap, remember? And the knives. And the spike pit in the yard! There's no way whatever that is can survive all of that."
Narrator (snickering): "Oh, sweet summer child. You have no idea what's coming."
Morgana, standing near the window, gazed out into the fog-covered yard, a faint smile playing on her lips. "It's coming closer. I can feel it. Death is at the door."
Brad shot her a nervous look. "Yeah, thanks for that uplifting speech, Morgana. Real helpful."
The camera panned downstairs to show the shadowy figure now stalking through the mansion. It moved with eerie, inhuman grace, weaving between the furniture like a predator. Clawed hands reached out to swipe at the air as it moved, brushing past the oil-slicked floor in the kitchen without slipping, its glowing eyes scanning the room as if it was searching for something. The beast's low growl echoed through the house.
The camera lingered on the werewolf, its hulking form prowling forward, sniffing the air. As it approached the kitchen, it finally triggered one of Tammy's traps, the knives she had rigged swung down toward the creature's head. But with alarming speed, the werewolf dodged the blades, snarling in irritation.
With one powerful swipe, the werewolf knocked over the table, the knives clattering uselessly to the floor. It paused for a moment, lifting its head to sniff the air again, before letting out a low growl that seemed to reverberate through the entire mansion.
Upstairs, the group heard the noise, and even Stacey's optimism faltered. She bit her lip nervously, looking at the others. "Uh, maybe it's time for Plan B?"
"Plan B?" Derek asked, his voice rising in panic. "What's Plan B?"
Stacey blinked, clearly having no idea what Plan B was. "Uh, you know… something else that isn't this."
Tammy groaned, grabbing her iron skillet and positioning herself closer to the door. "Great. We've got no plan, and there's a giant werewolf downstairs wrecking your kitchen. This is going so well."
Morgana was the only one who remained calm, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Let it come. We've trapped the house well enough. Death will sort out the rest."
Just as she finished speaking, a loud crash shook the mansion again. The group tensed as they heard more growls, this time deeper, more threatening. It was clear that the werewolf was no longer content with stalking; it was actively hunting.
The camera cut back to the werewolf as it rounded the corner of the living room, its glowing eyes fixed on the front stairs. The flamethrower trap Stacey had set up earlier was hidden behind a corner, rigged to spray flames the moment the creature stepped on a pressure-sensitive switch.
The werewolf prowled closer, its claws scraping against the polished marble floor. As it drew nearer to the trap, its nostrils flared, picking up on the scent of something strange. The creature paused, sniffing the air with suspicion.
For a split second, it seemed as though the werewolf was about to avoid the trap altogether. But then, with one step, it hit the pressure switch.
The flamethrower ignited with a deafening whoosh, a massive burst of flames shooting toward the creature. The werewolf howled in fury as the fire engulfed it, stumbling back in a desperate attempt to escape the inferno. Its fur sizzled and singed as the flames licked at its body.
Upstairs, the group heard the whoosh of the flamethrower, followed by the enraged howl of the werewolf. Derek perked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Did it work? Did we get it?"
"I told you!" Stacey cheered, hopping up and down on the bed. "We totally Home Alone'd that thing!"
Tammy wasn't convinced, still gripping her skillet tightly. "Hold on. Just because it got hit with fire doesn't mean it's dead. These things don't go down that easily."
Morgana smiled darkly, her gaze fixed on the doorway as if waiting for the next step in their inevitable confrontation. "The fire may have slowed it down… but the hunt is far from over."
Just then, another growl echoed through the house, this one even more guttural than before. The sound was so deep, so menacing, it sent shivers down their spines. They weren't out of danger yet.
The camera zoomed back to the living room, where the werewolf stood in the aftermath of the flamethrower trap. Its fur was scorched, patches of its flesh were burnt, and its eyes burned with primal rage. Despite the damage, the creature was still standing. Its muscles rippled as it shook off the effects of the flames, growling in anger.
Slowly, it prowled toward the staircase, its movements more deliberate, more aggressive now. With every step, its claws clicked against the floor, echoing through the house like a countdown to the group's inevitable confrontation with it.
Upstairs, the group heard the werewolf's heavy footsteps approaching. Derek swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he held his dice close. "Guys… it's still coming. What do we do? What do we do?"
"We stick to the plan," Tammy said through gritted teeth. "If it gets past the traps, we fight. We can't run forever."
Brad nodded, though his hands shook slightly. "We've got weapons. We'll take it down if we have to."
Morgana, still as calm as ever, turned to Stacey. "Do you have any more surprises in this house of yours?"
Stacey's eyes widened, as if remembering something. "Oh! The spike pit in the backyard! We just have to lure it outside!"
Derek looked at her incredulously. "And how are we supposed to do that?"
Before anyone could answer, the sound of the werewolf's growl grew closer, its footsteps heavy as it stalked up the staircase.
The sound of the werewolf's claws scratching against the staircase was growing louder, each step sending shivers through the group. Stacey's traps had slowed the creature down, but they hadn't stopped it. Now, there was nothing between them and the beast except a flimsy barricade of pink beanbag chairs and a locked bedroom door.
Derek (whispering, panicked): "We're dead. We're so dead."
Tammy (clenching her skillet tighter): "Not if we fight."
The group stood frozen as the heavy footsteps grew closer. Outside, the moonlight streamed through Stacey's oversized windows, casting long, eerie shadows across the room. The room seemed impossibly quiet except for the sound of the werewolf's approach.
Suddenly, the bedroom door rattled violently, as if something, or someone, was testing it. The group tensed, their hearts pounding in their chests. The barricade they had built trembled but held, at least for the moment.
Brad (gritting his teeth): "It's right outside…"
The werewolf let out a low, guttural growl, and then the sound of scratching claws against the wood filled the air. It was trying to get through.
Tammy (whispering urgently): "We've gotta get out of here! Where's that backyard exit, Stacey?"
Stacey blinked, her brain finally catching up to the danger at hand. "The sliding door in the living room leads to the backyard! But… we'd have to go downstairs…"
Derek (hysterical): "Downstairs?! Where the monster is?! Are you out of your mind?"
Tammy didn't hesitate. She grabbed Stacey by the arm and started pulling her toward the hallway. "We don't have a choice. We lure it outside and get it into the spike pit. That's the only plan we've got."
Morgana smiled slightly as she followed them. "Death by spike pit… fitting."
The group scrambled down the hallway, trying to stay quiet as they made their way toward the staircase. The sound of the werewolf's growling and scratching grew louder behind them, and they knew it wouldn't be long before it broke through the door.
Derek was practically hyperventilating, his grip on his dice so tight his knuckles turned white. "I can't do this. I can't do this…"
Brad, holding his makeshift lamp weapon, turned to him with a grim expression. "You don't have to do anything, man. Just stay close, and we'll get through this."
As they reached the top of the stairs, the group paused, peering down into the dark, ominous living room below. The house was eerily still, but they knew the werewolf was close, too close.
Tammy (whispering): "Alright, we make a run for the sliding door. If we're lucky, it'll follow us outside."
Stacey gave a nervous nod and led the way down the stairs, her footsteps light and quick. The others followed, keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of the werewolf.
As they reached the bottom of the staircase, the living room came into view. The remnants of their traps lay scattered around, broken dumbbells, scattered nails, and scorch marks from the flamethrower. The house was a wreck, but the way to the sliding glass door was clear.
Stacey (whispering excitedly): "There it is! Come on, we're almost there!"
But just as the group started to move toward the door, a shadow moved in the corner of the room. They froze as the massive, hulking shape of the werewolf emerged from the darkness. Its glowing eyes locked onto them, and it let out a low, menacing growl.
Derek (whimpering): "We're dead. We're so dead…"
Tammy (yelling): "RUN!"
The werewolf lunged at them, and the group scattered. Stacey bolted for the sliding door, fumbling with the lock as the others tried to draw the creature's attention away from her.
Brad swung the lamp at the werewolf, trying to distract it. "Hey! Over here, you overgrown furball!"
The werewolf swiped at Brad, narrowly missing him, its claws leaving deep scratches in the wall. Brad stumbled backward, his heart racing, as the beast turned its attention back toward the others.
Morgana (calling out calmly): "Follow us, creature. Let's end this outside."
Stacey finally managed to unlock the sliding door and threw it open. "Guys, hurry! It's open!"
The group sprinted toward the door, with the werewolf hot on their heels. Derek, the last in line, barely made it through the door as the werewolf lunged at him, its claws brushing against his back.
They burst into the backyard, the cold night air hitting their faces as they skidded across the grass. Stacey, panting and panicked, pointed toward the area where they had set up the spike pit, hidden under the tarp.
Stacey (frantic): "Over there! We have to get it to fall into the pit!"
The werewolf charged through the open sliding door, its eyes blazing with fury as it pursued them into the backyard. The group circled around the yard, staying just out of reach as they lured the creature closer to the pit.
Tammy (yelling): "Come on, you ugly mutt! Follow us!"
Brad grabbed a rock and hurled it at the werewolf's head. "Over here! You want a piece of me?!"
The werewolf snarled and lunged toward Brad, its massive claws slicing through the air. But as it charged forward, it stopped, sniffing the air again, and suddenly turned its glowing eyes on Tammy.
Tammy's face went pale. "Oh hell no, "
Before anyone could react, the werewolf sprinted toward Tammy at full speed. She let out a scream and bolted for the front gate of Stacey's house, desperate to get away.
Tammy (screaming, panicked): "I'M OUT OF HERE! I'M NOT DYING LIKE THIS!"
Tammy ran full tilt down the driveway, out of the yard, and straight onto the road, her screams echoing into the night. The werewolf was close behind her, its claws tearing up the pavement as it pursued her. But just as Tammy darted into the middle of the street, headlights appeared, blinding her.
A loud horn blared.
Before Tammy could react, a beat-up red pickup truck came barreling around the corner, slamming into her with a deafening thud.
The truck screeched to a halt, and the camera cut to the inside of the truck, revealing the two creepy redneck guys from the gas station earlier in the film. They exchanged wide-eyed looks of horror.
Redneck Driver (gleeful)"We finally got to kill somebody Amos.
Amos (nodding his head): "I told ya we would."
Back on the road, Tammy's lifeless body lay sprawled out in front of the truck, blood pooling beneath her. The werewolf, apparently uninterested in roadkill, snarled and turned its attention back to the house.
Just as the werewolf was about to return to the house, a figure appeared out of the shadows. Death, dressed in his signature black cloak and carrying his scythe, slowly approached Tammy's body. The faint sound of chains rattling echoed through the air as he moved closer, his skeletal hand reaching out.
Tammy (gasping weakly): "I ain't dead yet! Get your bony ass away from me!"
Death (calmly): "Your time has come, Tammy."
Tammy, despite her obvious injuries, tried to pull herself up and crawl away, but it was no use. Death reached down, grabbing her soul by the wrist, dragging her kicking and screaming toward the afterlife.
Tammy (screaming, struggling): "Let go of me, you motherf, "
Death sighed and hoisted her over his shoulder, her spirit still protesting as he faded into the fog.
Narrator (dryly): "And once again, Tammy's out. But don't worry, folks. She'll be back."
Meanwhile, back in the yard, Stacey, Brad, Derek, and Morgana circled around the spike pit, their breathing ragged as the werewolf charged toward them. The ground shook as the creature barreled forward, its eyes locked on them.
Brad and Stacey shouted, trying to lure it in the right direction.
Brad (yelling): "Come on! Right here, you freak!"
With one final leap, the werewolf launched itself toward them. But just as it landed, the ground gave way beneath its feet. The spike pit, hidden under the tarp, swallowed the beast whole.
The werewolf plummeted into the spike pit, letting out a final, guttural howl as the jagged spikes impaled it. Blood pooled beneath its massive form, its glowing eyes dimming as it succumbed to its injuries. The group stood at the edge of the pit, panting, trying to process the fact that they had actually survived.
Brad (breathless): "We… we did it. We actually did it."
Derek (trembling): "I can't believe that worked…"
Morgana (softly, smiling): "The beast is dead. But the night isn't over."
Her words sent a shiver down their spines. They had barely survived the werewolf, but they knew there was still one monster left.
As if on cue, a soft flapping sound echoed through the air. The group turned just in time to see a shadowy figure gliding down from the foggy sky, his cape billowing dramatically in the moonlight.
It was Dracula.
He landed gracefully in the middle of Stacey's yard, his eyes glowing a bright, menacing red. His sharp fangs gleamed in the pale moonlight as he smiled, eyeing his victims with satisfaction.
Dracula (smiling hungrily): "You've fought well, my dear children… but your blood still belongs to me."
Stacey (terrified): "Oh no, not again! Please, I don't want to die all hot and stuff!"
Dracula's smile widened, his fangs extending as he stepped closer to her. His eyes locked onto Stacey, and he seemed almost hypnotized by the sight of her, the ultimate prize.
Dracula (seductively): "Your blood… it will make me stronger than ever. Come, my dear. You are destined to be mine."
Stacey, completely panicked, backed up against the side of the house, her heart racing. Dracula's eyes glowed brighter as he moved toward her, his fangs bared.
But just as he reached for her, something unexpected happened.
Narrator (dryly): "And now, the moment Dracula's been waiting for…"
Dracula leaned in, opening his mouth wide, ready to sink his teeth into Stacey's neck. But as soon as his lips brushed her skin, something strange happened. His eyes widened in shock, and he jerked back as if he'd been burned.
Dracula (gagging, horrified): "What… what is this?!"
Dracula staggered backward, his face contorted in confusion and disgust. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he made retching sounds.
Brad (confused): "Uh… what's happening?"
Derek (in disbelief): "Is he… is he gagging?"
Dracula's eyes bulged as he stumbled away from Stacey, still gagging and coughing violently. He turned to look at her, horror written all over his face.
Dracula (choking out): "Garlic?! How is this possible?!"
Stacey blinked, equally confused, and touched her neck. "Wait… garlic? What garlic?"
Dracula's skin began to smoke, and he let out a loud, anguished cry as he staggered around the yard. His cape flapped uselessly as he stumbled into the fog, his body convulsing as if in pain.
Narrator (snickering): "Looks like someone didn't check their victim's lunch."
Stacey (realizing): "Oh my God! The pizza I had for dinner… it had, like, extra garlic on it!"
Derek (deadpan): "Of course it did."
Dracula let out a final, desperate scream as his body began to ignite, flames erupting from his skin. He twirled in circles, trying to extinguish the flames, but it was no use. His entire form was engulfed in fire, his majestic cape burning to cinders.
Dracula (screaming in disbelief): "NO! I am the Prince of Darkness! I cannot be defeated by… by… PIZZA!"
But it was too late. The flames consumed him, and in a matter of seconds, Dracula's entire body disintegrated into a pile of ash, leaving nothing but a smoldering cape on the ground.
The group stared at the spot where Dracula had been, their expressions a mix of disbelief and relief.
Brad (blinking): "Did Dracula… just get killed by garlic pizza?"
Morgana (smirking): "Death takes many forms."
Stacey, still in shock, ran a hand through her hair. "Well… at least I didn't have to die hot and stuff, right?"
Narrator (mocking): "And thus ends the tale of the mighty Dracula… brought down by extra garlic."
As the flames died down and the group finally caught their breath, they realized they had actually survived the night. The werewolf was dead in the spike pit, and Dracula was reduced to ashes by nothing more than a simple pizza topping.
Derek (nervously laughing): "I don't even know what just happened. But I'm glad it's over."
Stacey (grinning): "Totally. I'm never eating non-garlic pizza again. It's basically a life-saver."
Brad clapped Derek on the back, smiling. "We made it, man. We actually made it."
But Morgana, as always, remained cryptic. Her eyes lingered on the smoldering ashes of Dracula as the wind began to blow them away.
Morgana (softly): "This was just the beginning. Death will come again."
The camera panned up to the moonlit sky, the fog swirling ominously around the group as they began to head back inside the house.
As the group disappeared into the house, the camera slowly zoomed in on a small, glowing red object in the pile of Dracula's ashes. It was a ring, pulsing faintly with power. The camera lingered on the ring for a moment before fading to black.
Dracula (In pain) "I'll be back for you all, you meddling teenagers!"
A dog appears and passes on the ring, agonizing screams echo through the night.
The ominous glow from the ring grew stronger as the screen faded out completely.