Following is a preview of Fang Face, featuring the same characters as this short story.
"Aw, crap."
Dracula's last thought before he crumbled to dust.
"I am not going to sleep in a coffin," Erin screeched.
As any attendee of a High School Musical concert can tell you, there's nothing like a teenage girl's shriek to wake up the auditory sensors. Every dog in the neighborhood simultaneously yipped in pain, except old Dork, a deaf Chihuahua from up the street.
Her sister, Alex, ducked, even though the shriek wasn't directed at her. It whizzed by her ear with a whistling sound and went looking for another eardrum to pierce.
Immune to the sound, their father calmly leafed through a magazine. "Hey, this one looks nice. It's the King Tut model."
Erin whirled around and snapped, "King Tut was a boy. Do I look like a boy to you?"
Their mother, Beth, interrupted softly, trying to reduce the sudden tension, "They actually have one shaped like a Coke bottle. It's attractive." The faint frown line between her eyes indicated maybe she thought otherwise.
"Mom! This is ridiculous. I'm not sleeping in a coffin!"
"But, honey, I think you're supposed to." Her father twisted his finger in the ugly necklace hanging loosely around his neck.
"Hey," Alex interrupted, looking at another magazine, "here's a biodegradable one." She grinned impishly. "Good for the environment when we bury it."
Erin gritted her teeth. "Even if I slept in a coffin, we wouldn't bury it!”
She glared at everyone around the kitchen table, turned around and stalked to her room, slamming the door. Then she opened it again and slammed it with more force than a teenage girl should possess. The oak door splintered but held.
Silence hung over the dining room table like a heavy cloak.
Finally Alex said quietly, "I vote we just go ahead and cremate her now."
Part One