"Finally, the night is over! Vacation time!"
"It was our turn to pick where to go, right?" Edge, Christian's brother and tag-team partner asked.
"Yup!" Christian answered.
"Oh man!" Farooq groaned behind them, "You guys always pick the most boring, gruesome places!"
"We do not!" Christian defended himself and his brother.
"Hello!" Bradshaw said as they walked into the dressing room, "You're the Brood! You guys are always boring and gruesome!"
Edge flopped onto the black leather couch in one corner and bared his fangs at the Acolytes. Christian and Gangrel followed his example. Bradshaw flexed one gigantic arm muscle at them and they put the fangs away, muttering under their collective breaths.
"Hey everybody!" Mideon greeted, coming out of the shower, clad only in a towel, "Ready for vacation?"
"Not when its the vampires' turn to pick," Farooq muttered as he changed into a pair of black jeans.
"Hey! We pick good places!" Gangrel exclaimed, jumping off the couch, "Name one place you didn't like that we picked!"
"Only one?" Bradshaw asked.
"Hahaha," Edge muttered.
"How 'bout that damn vampire museum we went to last year?" Bradshaw offered.
"That was cool!" Christian said.
"Uh, hell no it wasn't," Farooq contradicted, "That place was B-O-R-I-N-G, boring!"
"Well, we liked it," Christian pouted, eyes narrow.
"Duh, dumbass!" Bradshaw told him, "You're vampires! Of course you liked it!"
"Then, we went to Toronto last time you guys picked," Farooq continued, "I mean, seriously guys, did you lived there for like twenty years. Didn't you see enough of it then?"
"But, that was in the mid-1700s when we lived there," Edge pointed out, "Modern-day Toronto had a lot more to offer." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the group.
"Oh, God, you're a perve!" Mideon exclaimed as he pulled his boots on.
"And your point is what, Jabroni?" Edge asked, one eyebrow raised, a la the Rock.
"Oh no!" Christian groaned, leaning his head against the back of the couch, "He's doing his Rock impersonations again!"
"Where's a damn stake when you need one?" Gangrel muttered, looking around the room.
"What's wrong with my Rock impersonations, might I ask?" Edge questioned his two fellow vampires.
"They stink," Mideon told him cheerfully.
"They do not!" Edge exclaimed, glaring at him.
"Big bro, really they do!" Christian agreed, putting his arm around Edge's shoulder.
"Not as bad as your Road-Dogg impersonations, Chris," Edge pointed out.
Christian stood up and stretched. "Well, that's just because I don't practice at it like you do with yours," he retorted. He smirked and added, "Two tears and a bucket! And if you're not down with that, we got two words for ya! Suck it!"
Everyone in the room laughed as Christian proceeded to do the patented DX crotch-chop.
"That is pretty bad!" Mideon got out between snorts.
Viscera walked through the door just then. He cleared his throat and everyone immediately calmed down.
"What's up, Vis?" Farooq asked curiously.
"Taker is ready to go," Viscera announced, "We leave in two minutes, with or without everybody."
"We're coming, big man," Bradshaw said as he pulled on a pair of dirty torn sneakers.
Edge looked down at Bradshaw's feet and crinkled his nose. "Man, Bradshaw," he complained, "Can't you get a new pair of shoes? I know you make enough money jobbing to the Hardys to get some!"
Bradshaw glared at him as he grabbed his bags. He pointed a finger in the blond vampire's face.
"Watch your mouth, Goth-boy," he warned, "It could get you in trouble one day!"
Edge smirked. "I've avoided trouble for the past 815 years," he declared, "I'm not afraid of you, Bradshaw!" He rolled his eyes as Farooq made a move toward him. "Or your boyfriend!" he added, grinning at Farooq.
"Damn, you're old," Mideon said, "That means you were born in-let's see..."
"1184," Christian answered for him.
Mideon looked up from where he had been counting on his fingers. He blinked and slowly nodded his head.
Uh, yeah," he agreed.
"45 seconds," Viscera said, looking at his watch.
"Okay, okay," Christian muttered as he grabbed his leather jacket, "We're coming."
"So, exactly how old are you and Grel, Chris?" Mideon asked as the Ministry walked out to the waiting limos.
"Why?" Christian asked.
"Well, you guys have never really told us."
Christian shrugged. "So, why ask now?"
"Curiousity, I guess," Mideon shrugged back.
"Well, if you MUST know," Christian started, "I'm 810 years old. I was born in 1189."
"That's pretty old," Bradshaw butted in.
"Like I was saying," Christian continued, giving a dirty look to the big Texan, "Grel was born in 972."
"Wow!" Mideon breathed.
"He's 1027 years old," Christian saved him the trouble of having to count on his fingers again.
"Ain't that weird?" Bradshaw asked as he got into a limo with Mideon, Farooq, and Viscera.
"What?" Gangrel asked.
"Living forever," Bradshaw said.
"We haven't lived forever yet," Edge told him, "But when we do, I'll let you know!"
"Thanks," Bradshaw rolled his eyes as Viscera slammed the limo door shut.
***
"Okay, my children," Undertaker said later that night at the airport, "Where exactly are we going?"
Edge grinned mischievously as Gangrel laughed and Christian giggled.
"Oh no," Farooq groaned yet again, "Where'd you guys pick this time?"
"Disney World, right?" Bradshaw asked hopefully.
"Well, it's not the happiest place on earth," Edge laughed.
"Is it KINDA happy?" Bradshaw asked.
"For some of us it is," Gangrel answered mysteriously.
Edge and Christian snickered behind their hands.
"Where are we going?" Undertaker repeated.
"Some place Grel has never been, believe it or not," Christian answered.
"And that would be..." Paul Bearer looked at him.
"Transylvania!" Christian exclaimed, grinning.
Everyone not in the Brood groaned. Edge looked around. He put his hands on his hips and glared.
"What's wrong with that?" he asked.
"Transylvania?" Mideon groaned, shaking his head.
"Couldn't we just go to Disney World?" Bradshaw asked timidly.
"Now boarding flight 666 for Transylvania," a voice over the loud speaker announced.
"That's us!" Christian squealed, running down to the gate.
"That is NOT a good sign," Farooq muttered as he walked to the gate.
Bradshaw and Mideon could only nod their heads in reply as they followed him. Based on that flight number, they were in for a long and potentially bumpy ride for this vacation. Maybe it wasn''t too late for Bradshaw to find a flight to Disney World.
***
"I LOVE vacations!" Christian announced as the plane prepared to land late the next morning.
"God, for someone who never talks on camera, you sure have a hell of a lot to say," Farooq told Christian.
"I know," Christian replied, "Appearances can be decieving."
Edge leaned over his little brother to smirk at the Acolytes who were sitting across the aisle from them. "Yeah, just look at you and Bradshaw," he chimed in, "I mean, you two are big, scary, muscular guys who enjoy beating the shit outta anyone who gets in your way on camera. But, in real life, you're both the nicest, sweetest, cuddliest guys in-"
Farooq and Bradshaw turned to him, flexing their massive muscles. Edge bit his lip and turned away.
"Maybe not," he muttered to his brother.
"Who cares about the Acolytes?" Christian asked, "We're in fuckin'Transylvania!"
"Ain't it great?" Mideon mumbled to Viscera from behind the two vampires.
"Shut up"!" Viscera said as a reply, "And get your elbow outta my stomach!"
Mideon shifted his body in the seat. This was stupid! How the hell had HE gotten stuck sitting next to the biggest member of the Ministry? Thankfully, it was just about time to exit the plane and get away from Viscera.
Christian and Edge hopped out of their seats as the plane came to a complete stop. Christian grabbed his bag with one hand and Gangrel's arm with the other. He dragged both of them down the aisle and into the tiny airport. Edge followed behind, a slightly amused smile on his face, as he watched his brother drag his sire away.
"I've never seen the kid this happy before," Bradshaw commented as he followed.
"He's never been to our homeland before," Edge replied, slipping his sunglasses over his eyes,
"Neither has Grel."
"Have you been before?" Mideon asked as the made their way to Baggage Claim.
"Once," Edge said, face darkening, "But, that was a long time ago."
Mideon didn't notice the shadow that had passed over his friend's face. He grabbed his suitcase off the machine and turned curious eyes on Edge.
"Really?" he asked, "When was that?"
Edge shook his head. "I don't remember," he answered shortly, "It doesn't matter, anyway." He turned around to look for his little brother. "Hey, Chris! There's some cool vampire stuff in the gift shop! Wanna check it out?"
Christian dropped his bags at Paul Bearer's feet and ran over to the small gift shop in the corner. Edge and Gangrel followed, laughing.
"Hey, guys, look!" Christian exclaimed, running over to them, a book held in one hand, "It's a book about vampire lore! Ain't it cool?"
"Uh, Chris," Gangrel said, still laughing, "Don't you already know all that stuff?"
Christian's face fell. "Well, it's not for me," he explained, "I was gonna get it for Matt and Jeff."
Gangrel rolled his eyes at the mention of Matt and Jeff Hardy. Edge did the same. Christian eyed both of them suspiciously.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"Chris, you need to get over Matt and Jeff," Edge told him, "They're just using you!"
"They are not!" Christian exclaimed, "You're just jealous that they like me better than you!"
"Come on, little bro!" Edge exclaimed, rolling his eyes again, "They only talk to you because you give them head every once and a while!"
"So what if I do?" Christian argued, "I like it!"
"Apparently, so do they," Gangrel said.
"Look, we are NOT gonna argue about this right here, right now,"
Edge told them, "Just buy the damn book if you want!"
Christian grinned. "No problemo!" he sang out as he walked to the cashier.
"That is one weird vampire," Gangrel muttered as they watched Christian pay, "He's WAY too happy!"
"And to think, he's always been this way," Edge muttered back, "At least, you didn't know him before you turned him into a vampire!"
"You poor soul," Gangrel said.
Edge shuddered. "Please!" he moaned, "I don't have a soul, remember?"
"Sorry," Gangrel apologized, grinning evilly.
***
Twenty minutes later, three taxis pulled up to a huge Renaissance-style mansion and the Ministry jumped out. Well, Christian jumped out, to be exact. Edge and Gangrel slid out while the Acolytes and Mideon slowly climbed out. Viscera scooted out as Paul Bearer fell out when Undertaker pushed him. Undertaker himself simply stepped out.
"Wow!" Christian gasped as he looked at the hotel they would be staying at for the next week.
"That's a big building," Mideon said, eyes wide.
"No shit, dumbass," Edge told him, but his eyes were just as wide behind his glasses.
The hotel was three stories tall with windows on the first floor that reached fron the ground to the ceiling. Columns flanked either side of the wrap around porch. A black wrought-iron bench was on one side of the front door. The building was made out of gray stone and the shutters were painted black. Tall hedges surrounded the walkway leading from the porch to the driveway and five large pine trees blocked out a lot of the sun.
"Hell yeah," Gangrel grinned as they walked up the walkway, "I think I'm gonna like it here!"
"Kinda creepy if you ask me," Farooq muttered to Bradshaw.
Bradshaw flung his arm around his partner's shoulders and hugged him close. Farooq leaned his head on his shoulder and sighed.
"Don't worry," Bradshaw reassured him, eyeing the house nervously, "I'm sure it's nicer inside!"
"Holy crap!" Christian exclaimed once they were inside, "This place is awesome!"
"Shit," Bradshaw mumbled, "This place is bigger inside than it is outside."
Mideon dropped his suitcase on Paul's foot and looked up the double-wide staircase. His eyes got wider and his jaw dropped as a willowy figure dressed all in black appeared at the top of the stairs. Her long silk skirt rustled against her legs as she descended. Mideon looked into her pale white face, mesmerized by her dark eyes. He didn't even feel Paul slap him on his arm.
"Hello," the young lady greeted when she reached the bottom step, "Welcome to Nightshade Chalet. You must be the Ministry."
"Yes we are," Edge grinned, extending his hand. The girl took it and he blinked at how firm her tiny, porcelain-like hand gripped his. I'm Edge."
"Nice to meet you," she replied, "My name is Marissa and I'm the owner."
"Really?" Christian asked, "You own it all by yourself?"
Marissa turned her eyes on him. "No," she answered, "I own it with my sisters and brother." She turned back to Edge. "You can just leave your bags here. My brother will get them later." She gestured to the stairs. "Follow me, please, and I'll show you to your rooms."
"Cool," Edge agreed.
"So, uh, how many other guests are staying here?" Mideon asked, nervously eyeing the blood red walls and dark paintings as they followed Marissa up.
"Oh, you're the only ones this week," she answered. They reached the second-floor landing and she turned left. "Here's the first room."
"We'll stay here," Farooq offered, pointing at himself and Bradshaw.
"Okay," Marissa nodded, "The bathroom is connected to your room and the room next to yours."
She looked expectantly at the group as the Acolytes entered their room.
"Me and Edge will take this one," Christian told her.
Marissa turned her eyes to the remaining members of the Ministry. She continued down the hall, stopping four doors down form Edge and Christian's room.
"Hey, Grel," Mideon whispered as Marissa opened the door, "Share this room with me!"
"Why?" Gangrel asked.
"Because I don't want to get stuck rooming with Viscera again," Mideon explained, "He stole all my pillows last time and snored all night." He glanced nervously at Viscera. "Plus, he stinks!"
Gangrel rolled his eyes. "Uh, Marissa," he said, "We'll take this one."
Mideon's sigh of relief quickly turned into a groan of disappointment as Viscera took the room next to theirs. The good thing was he didn't have to room with him again. The bad thing was he and Gangrel would be sharing a bathroom with the big man.
Marissa turned to face the opposite side of the hallway. She pointed at the door directly opposite of Viscera's.
"This will be your room, then," she told Undertaker and Paul Bearer, "Is everything to your satisfaction?"
"Oh, yes," Paul answered, "This is just fine."
"Good," Marissa said, turning to go. She waited until she had reached the other end of the hall before turning back around to tell everyone one last detail. "Lunch will be ready in one hour," she called out, raising her voice so everyone could hear, "One of my sisters will come get you!"
"Okay," came Christian's muffled reply from down the hall.
"We'll definitely be ready," Mideon yelled, his stomach already growling.
***
Later that day, Gangrel and Edge made their way to the darkened sitting room. Gangrel drew the heavy black brocade curtains and turned off all the lights. The only light came through the crack in the door to the hallway.
"Man, this is the life," Edge muttered, propping his feet up in a dark red ottoman. He took a sip of red wine and closed his eyes.
"Yeah, I agree," Gangrel said, sliding his dark glasses off his face and blinking to adjust to the light.
The two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the quiet darkness. No one else from the Ministry was around. Christian was in his bedroom, taking a nap. Farooq and Bradshaw had gone for a walk in the woods behind the hotel. Viscera was sitting on the wrap-around porch with the Undertaker and Paul Bearer. Mideon was only God knew where doing God knew what. Marissa and the other owners of the house were preparing for that night's dinner and making sure the other guests were comfortable.
"Hey, Edge," Gangrel broke the silence.
Edge opened one eye. "What?"
"Is it just me or is there a weird vibe at this place?" Gangrel asked.
"What do ya mean?" Edge asked in return.
"I just got a strange feeling here," Gangrel told him, "Not really a bad feeling just-I don't know!"
"Huh?" Edge asked, opening his other eye.
"Like these people here. Is it just me or are they a little strange?"
Edge rolled his eyes. He took another sip before answering. "Strange?" he asked, "You're calling someone else strange?"
"Yeah, it doesn't make sense coming from a vampire, does it?"
Gangrel laughed bitterly. He sat up in his chair and pushed his hair out of his face. "But, to tell you the truth, I really get this weird feeling when I'm around any of them."
"Grel, what are you trying to say?"
"Don't laugh, but I feel like there is at least one vampire around here!"
"Duh!" Edge laughed, "You, me, and Chris are vampires!"
"No, besides us! Like, one of the people who run this place!"
"Grel, we're vampires! Wouldn't we be able to tell if someone else was a vampire?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you! I do feel it! At least, I think I do."
Edge shook his head, his long blond hair fanning around his face. "I don't feel anything," he told Gangrel, "Wouldn't I be able to feel it too?"
"Edge, you never feel anything! You're too busy being a smart ass to ever be serious enough and pay attention to stuff like that. You wouldn't know another vampire existed if he showed you his fangs and bit you!"
"That's not true!" Edge disagreed.
"How long did it take you to figure out that I was a vampire?"
"Only twenty-two years," Edge muttered.
"What? Can't hear you! Why don't you speak up?"
Edge glared at him. "Twenty-two years," he repeated.
"Exactly!" Gangrel exclaimed, raising one finger in the air, "So, you just proved my point! Christian is better at recognizing our kind than you are and you know what a typical blond he is!"
Edge finished his wine and closed his eyes again. He waved his hand in the general direction of Gangrel.
"You just believe what you want to believe, Grel. But, when you're wrong I promise I won't rub it in your face!"
"Gee, thanks," Gangrel drawled and closed his eyes, "What would I do without you?"
"Do you even want to know?" Edge asked sleepily.
"I'm sure I'll never have the chance to find out either," Gangrel mumbled.
TBC
