Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Monster Mash (Patreon)

Surprise was on her side. Van Helscion was positive that neither of her prey had made their Perception check. The pair were unarmed as well — quite unarmed in point of fact! And yet, despite every advantage which providence had seen fit to bestow upon her, proprietary dictated that she could not make a move. It was really quite intolerable!

“What’s this eerie sight?” purred a feminine voice.

“Hmmm,” replied the sardonic tones of its male counterpart. “It seems that suddenly, to my surprise, my monster from his slab has begun to rise!”

Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Van Helscion could do nothing but crouch in her hiding place, hoping desperately not to give herself away. Not until those undead horrors had finished their monstrous mockery of mortal passion.

With an unutterable sense of loathing, Van Helscion whispered to herself, “It’s a graveyard smash!” And worse, the unholy rite seemed to be growing more intense.

“The party has just begun!” he smarmed.

And in equally bombastic tones, she nearly shrieked, “The coffin-bangers are about to arrive!”

The Twins’ voices carried across the graveyard, and Van Helscion wished dearly that she might sink into the earth and out of this encounter. She could hear everything! Or at least, she thought she could. Though her ears were sharp, the noble did not hear the furtive whispers of her quarry, hissed back and forth between their louder protestations of passion.

“Is she still there?” he asked.

“Pretty sure she is,” she said. “Keep it up! We’re as good as dead if she attacks us now.”

In a louder, more carrying voice, he called over his shoulder, “Whatever happened to the Transylvania Twist?”

“I adore that move!” she cooed. And again, more quietly: “We’re running out of lyrics.”

“Ummm,” he said, “Uh… Wa hoo, tennis shoe?” And he hoped that the next chorus would not end with a stake between his shoulder blades.