DISCLAIMER: This is an incredibly scary story to be read by adults only. If you are a child please ask your parents before reading this very spooky tale. It is not intended for people with weak hearts or epilepsy.
Dracula Gets Frankenstein’s Monster Laid
by Matt Posky
Rush week was the time of year where you could effectively force a relationship or friendship out of nothing more than societal pressure and tradition. Monster House was no different than any other fraternity and Dracula was busy setting up decorations for the homecoming party after the big game while Wolfman and the Skeleton brothers went to make sure their kegs were filled to the brim with the frothy suds that every sexually active creature of the night craves. The rickety old mansion was as infamous for its peeling paint and ghoulish apparitions as it was for its outrageous parties. The members of Beta Omega Theta weren’t about to risk losing that prestigious honor. However, one member, hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet. Annoyed, Dracula exploded into a flurry of bats before coalescing back into his humanoid form at the top of the stairs.
“Frankenstein, are you up yet?” he yelled through the door.
The only response was the bass tones of a creature softly crying into his huge pillow.
“Come on, let me in and we can talk about it!”
“Go ‘way!” boomed the monster’s deep voice.
Not taking no for an answer, the vampire evaporated into a green mist and slipped under the door. Frankenstein ashamedly wiped the tears from his gray-green face, stood up, and kicked the bed as Dracula re-formed in front of him. “Leave me alone!” he bellowed.
“Leave my best buddy in the whole world alone? Not until he tells me what’s wrong and how I can help.”
“Junior year and Frankenstein still virgin.”
Dracula threw his head back in laughter, causing the torchlight of the room to glint off his super cool sunglasses. All of the other monsters knew Frankenstein had never even kissed a girl but had cruelly acted like he was the resident casanova. Sadly, the hulking behemoth never caught onto their sarcasm. He was much better known for being the best damn lineman to come out of Transylvania than he was for his intelligence. While he could have easily worked that to his advantage, his awkward appearance and social ineptitude held him back with members of the opposite gender. Dracula lied, “You? A virgin?! I don’t believe it.”
“True. Frankenstein untouched by woman.”
Suddenly there was a loud crash downstairs, followed by wild laughter. The boys had returned with the keg and it sounded like they may have sampled some on the trip back. Hugging his friend, Dracula said, “Listen, buddy, tonight that all changes. We’re going to find you a nice girl. All you need to do is win the big game and have a good time afterward.” He then kissed his forehead and punched him gently in the arm before turning to go back downstairs. By now he could hear Wolfman arguing with someone. Dracula assumed it was the mummy priest Imhotep. It was practically a nightly ritual with the two of them. Wolfman would work himself up into a drunken frenzy and do something stupid like try to surf down the stairs, usually breaking things in the process, and the mummy would go on a tirade about responsibility and being a good housemate. By the time he got down the stairs, they were already at each other’s throats.
“We don’t have time for this!” shouted Dracula. “Stop fighting, stop drinking, get those kegs into a bucket of ice, and finish getting this place ready!” A huffy Imhotep turned and shuffled off while Wolfman sheepishly began dragging the kegs into the kitchen. The Skeleton brothers snickered quietly to themselves, nudging each other, before clattering off to park the car. Dracula followed them outside. “Can you guys do me a favor?”
Their mouths opened in unison and a singular breathy echo escaped from the void, “Certainly.”
“Stop. I hate when you guys do that.”
The two ghastly frameworks cackled and slapped each other on the back before apologizing and asking what was required of them in a much more shrill voice. “What would you have us do?”
“I need you to help me find Frank a date for the night.”
More laughter, “And you expect us to find someone for him to bone?”
“Something like that.” He said while lighting a cigarette.
Again in unison, “We might know a girl. We have a hunch he’s going to love her.”
“…Is she a hunchback?”
The two gaped their mouths and again whispered as one to the affirmative. “Yes.”
“Get the hell out of here and pick up the party sub.”
The two clambered into the massive car and clicked the ignition until it roared to life. It was a hodgepodge of bulbous body panels from early automotive history that they had pieced together with their father over the duration of several long summers. But it wasn’t until the year before enrolling at Scare University that father Skeleton finally brought home the hellfire motor they would use to power it. They spray painted it red and lowered the hulking assemblage of metal into the black behemoth. It was nearly as well known on campus as it was in their home town and equally loathed for rattling windows and scaring the elderly. It rumbled backwards out of the driveway and into the street. This was followed by shrieking tires, exhaust flames, and the mad laughter of the two brothers as it sped out of sight.
The game progressed as everyone at Scare University had expected. The visiting team had spent the first few plays feeling rather confident but they were quickly worn down. Scare U won sixty-six to six. Frankenstein returned pleased to have been an integral part of the win. Guests had already begun trickling in and Dracula was making his rounds as host. To acknowledge his large green friend’s arrival, he flashed his fangs in a wide grin and gave the thumbs up sign. Frankenstein gave a half-hearted wave and went up into his room. Over the following hour he could hear the party downstairs building momentum while he flipped through a Grisham novel about lawyers who kept secrets for the government or something. But, by ten-thirty, the party had come to him. Woflman burst through his door holding the remnants of a six-pack in one hand and the remnants of a woman in the other.
“Come on, bro!” he begged. “You have got to come downstairs and help us rage! Drac has been asking about you all night.”
Frankenstein beguilingly agreed and sauntered down to the sea of ghouls and ghosts undulating to the beat. From across the room he could see a group of attractive women flirting with the zombies from the debate team. Their argumentative prowess might have been the eleventh best in the nation but he knew that wasn’t enough to get them girls. Frankenstein suspected Dracula had hypnotized them into lusting after the walking cadavers and was worried he would try the same thing for him. That wasn’t how he wanted his first time to be. He didn’t want it sullied by dark witchery and manipulation. It should be beautiful and pure, Frankenstein thought.
Dracula stepped up with a gorgeous blonde goddess and took a sexy drag off his cigarette, “Frank! Great work out there on the field tonight. I was just talking about you with my friend Rebecca here.”
Rebecca nodded and smiled.
“She’s in the science program too so you’ve probably had classes together. I tried talking to her about it but it became incredibly boring for my unscientific mind and I had to change the topic to sports.” Dracula lied. “Maybe you can chat her up about school while I check on the brew supply.”
The vampire having smoothly made an in for his friend, made his way through the crowd of dancing humans, monsters and ghosts, leaving his friend to fend for himself with the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Frankenstein stood silently for a moment and uncomfortably fiddled with the mice in his pocket. When he finally spoke, it came out a bit too boisterous and at the exact moment a song was ending. “Frankenstein like your sweater.” he yelled.
Everyone around them chuckled and went back to dancing when the next track began. Rebecca laughed too and then pulled on his shirt. “Let’s go somewhere more private and talk.” she said while dragging him off the dance floor and into the dinning room. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief at how tranquil it seemed in comparison. Rebecca confessed, “This is much better.”
Frankenstein agreed and, after a few awkward moments of chit-chat, found himself having a deep and meaningful conversation with a woman for the first time. She was smart and funny and all of the things he had hoped she would be. They were occasionally interrupted by a football fan or competing male but she always managed to politely and cleverly convey that they were not interested in any extended interaction with anyone but each other. It went on like that for hours until they were practically holding hands. Wanting any excuse to hold him, she asked him to dance. Noticing that it had only gotten more crowded since they started talking Frankenstein asked, “Out there with all of them?”
“Well we could just dance here.” Rebecca responded as she wrapped her arms around him.
Every song brought them, literally, closer together until he finally built up the courage to kiss her. His giant hand covered the majority of her back as it pulled her in close and used his free hand to brush away her hair. When their lips touched he could feel something electric shooting through his body and down into his loins. He didn’t know if it was love or merely lust but he wanted more of it. Rebecca pushed back and, grinning widely, went in for another embrace. That’s when they heard it. That’s when they heard the words that made all of those good feelings drain out of him like he had been stuck with some emotional trocar. The words, repeated as their source grew closer, “Get away from my girlfriend! Get away from my girlfriend!”
A hand grabbed Frankenstein’s shoulder and spun him around to reveal a shrouded skeletal face. It was Grim Reaper, captain of the football team, and big man on campus. Everyone knew him and knew what he was capable of. “What the hell is this, Becky?” he asked. “This guy?! Some mongoloid lineman?”
“Leave us alone, Death!” Rebecca demanded.
“No. You’re my girl and I’m not about to lose you to this loser.”
“Frankenstein not a loser!” yelled the monster.
By now a crowd had formed and Dracula was frantically trying to make his way to the front of it. Frankenstein might have the strength of twenty men but that would do him little good against the lord of death. As the monster was technically living flesh, the Reaper could reduce him to a pile of sewn together body parts with a snap of his boney fingers. Meanwhile, Dracula’s inherent undead nature would give him some protection so that he might act as a buffer between Frankenstein and oblivion. Squeezing through the agitated and bloodthirsty crowd, he finally made his way up to them and nonchalantly asked what seemed to be the matter.
“Your friend is dying to move in on my girl.” hissed Death.
“Well that’s a bit of a cliche, isn’t it? She is certainly in her rights to choose to be with whoever she wants.” Dracula responded cooly.
“Of course she is. I’m a gentleman and a feminist at heart. I will gladly send them to the grave together if that’s what they desire.”
Enraged and terrified, Rebecca lashed out into a cursing frenzy and was forced to be held back by Frankenstein. The Skeleton Brothers and Wolfman approached ready to lend whatever assistance they could as Dracula continued to smooth things over. “Listen, this is our house and the last thing we want is to see it messed up in some monster brawl.” the vampire explained. “Why don’t we figure out some reasonable way to settle this.”
“You’re offering me a deal?” asked the Reaper.
“More like a contest.”
Having never lost at anything but chess for his entire life, Grim pondered the arrangement. He loved any opportunity to show off and, with such a large audience, was finding it difficult to refuse. “Alright. What do you have in mind?”
“Frlip a coin!” yelled a sloppy drunk Wolfman.
The monsters turned back to each other and debated what the nature of the contest should be. Knowing full well that anything they chose would put Frankenstein at a distinct disadvantage they even briefly came back to Wolfman’s coin flipping idea. Then Dracula smiled and said, “I’ve got it. I’m going to need everyone’s help though.”
“Do you have something for me or don’t you?” said an annoyed Reaper.
“It’s gonna be a drag race.” Dracula smirked.
Thirty minutes later, the entire party was on the front lawn. The Skeleton brothers were tinkering with their car with Frankenstein at the wheel. They slammed the hood and gave the thumbs up, giving him the okay to bring the beast to life. The roar made the crowd yelp and take a step back as Frankenstein slowly moved into position next to the Grim Reaper’s chariot of blue flame and twelve skeletal horses. The rules were that there were no rules and Dracula reiterated that upon his walk up to the starting line. “It’s the first one to the end of the street and back. Anything goes.” he shouted over the booming hellfire motor and demonic neighing coming from the Reaper’s steeds. Before the race he had explained to Frankenstein not to worry about anything other than getting there and back as quickly as possible and assured him that there was a plan in place.
“I love you, Frankenstein!” cried Rebecca from the sidewalk.
The big green monster nodded and revved the engine up. It was on. Dracula made his way to the front and lifted his cape above his head. The stallions all reared up in anticipation and everyone in the crowd started screaming. The cape was jerked toward the ground and the race began. The sheer torque of the Skeleton’s black coupe spun the tires while Death shot ahead as a flaming blue streak. But, once the wheels found some traction, they moved the pavement under them at an alarming rate. Frankenstein was pushed back into the seat as the vibration of the car shook him violently. He began to close the distance and watched the speedometer climb into the triple digits.
Several hundred yards behind them Dracula barked orders to his friends as they went about putting their plan into action. Ghosts were busy filling buckets with ectoplasm which were then handed out to the skeleton brothers and Rebecca who had made their way further on down the street. Meanwhile, Dracula transformed himself into a fog in the hopes of obscuring Grim’s vision as the others doused him in sticky slime. While not a perfect plan, he believed it might provide Frankenstein an opportunity in which to win the race.
Still ahead, Death closed in on the end of the street. Whipping and shouting at his ghastly animals, they slowed for the turnaround. Tripping over themselves they clumsily halted as he yanked the reins to the right. Approaching the cul-de-sac at speed, Frankenstein had no intention of slowing down. The brothers had made it clear that he could drift the vehicle around the outside edge of the street without losing much speed if he kept his foot hard on the gas after the initial turn. Daringly, he did as he was told and slid the massive car wide around Grim and his horses. His tires spun wildly as flames erupted out of his exhaust, setting all of the nearby homes on fire. The resulting ring of rubber and smell of brimstone infuriated the Reaper. He lashed his horses violently and they galloped in pursuit of Frankenstein. It would not be long before he was again in the lead.
“Here, here he comes.” whispered Rebecca.
Frankenstein roared by and Dracula allowed fog to become soupy behind him. Death saw the trap but could do nothing. The fog worked perfectly to screen the buckets of slime and they hit their mark. Emerging from the haze, an enraged death wiped his face and shook his reins. The cadaverous horses unleashed a terrible sound that could be heard for miles and lurched forward at three times their original pace. In his rearview mirror, Frankenstein could see them bearing down on him and could do nothing as he passed. “It isn’t going to work! We’ve got to do something!” yelled Wolfman from the finish line.
Imhotep, who had been against the party from the start, clenched his fists. Knowing that they had to do something, he grabbed the Wolfman and hustled up the street toward the approaching vehicles. Handing over a piece of his wrappings he said, “Whatever happens, don’t let go of this.”
Doing as he was told the werewolf watched the housemate nobody liked cross the street and leave a line of bandage behind him. Realizing what was about to happen, he positioned himself against a tree while the mummy wound himself around a fire hydrant. Death approached. Looking up the Wolfman shed a single tear for his brave friend. As the horses galloped through, the two pulled the bandage taut and allowed the mummy to unravel and become wrapped up in the stampeding legs. The animals clattered against each other as their limbs were tangled in bandages or snapped off entirely due to the sudden strain. The collapse caused the chariot to spill over to one side as the Reaper tumbled out. However it did not take him long to right it and use his scythe to cut his animals free. They limped forward, crippled by the crash.
Frankenstein’s right foot remained buried as the needle continued to climb. He passed Death two houses before the finish line. The crowd erupted in cheers and ran out to meet the victor. Grim’s chariot hobbled up behind him, its driver furious. “It looks like you’ve won. I take my leave.”
“Friendship won this day. Not just Frankenstein.” replied the monster.
Death touched a bunch of people in the crowd causing their bodies to fall lifelessly to the ground as a form of petty revenge but, as agreed, he left Frankenstein and Rebecca living. He rode away as Rebecca and the boys came into view. Frankenstein ran to them and hugged Dracula before giving Rebecca a kiss and tossing the keys back to the Skeleton brothers. As they celebrated and laughed they could see a battered Wolfman running up holding something above his head. When he neared they could it was the surviving bits of Imhotep. “He saved the day!” howled the werewolf.
“Just trying to be a considerate roommate.” said the mummy with a wink.
They all had a good laugh and took the party back inside where they danced and drank the night away. All of them except for Frankenstein and Rebecca, who had snuck off to his bed to make passionate love. Undressing him, she thanked him for a wonderful night. But he reminded her, “Night not over yet, sweetness.”
The sex was everything he had hoped it would be. She was gentle, passionate, and gave herself over to him completely. He held her hand as they journeyed into a land of ecstasy together. They did everything, all of the normal stuff and bunch of the weird stuff too. He let her lead him and show him everything a woman had to offer a monster. Near the end, however, he could feel his lust building and took control of the lovemaking. Their sex building in intensity, she yelled his name as her sweat-drenched body writhed and gripped him. Understanding that she had been satisfied, Frankenstein allowed himself to finish as well holding her tightly against him.
The following morning, Frankenstein awoke feeling like a new man. Trying not to disturb Rebecca, he snuck off into the bathroom to get something to drink. In the hall he saw Wolfman and Imhotep spooning in the hallway, the sexual tension that caused them to always fight now relieved. Looking out of the bathroom window he could see the Skeleton brothers cleaning up the front lawn. It would be another few hours before Dracula was up but Frankenstein went to his room and left a note on his coffin that read:
Feeling particularly good about himself and putting on Dracula’s sunglasses he strutted back to his room to wake Rebecca for breakfast. Kneeling down beside her, he gently rubbed her shoulder and whispered her name but she did not stir. She was dead. Frankenstein had killed her with his inhuman strength while they made passionate love. It was the best night of his life. It was the best night of her life. But it appeared that Rebecca had ended up with Death after all.