Hey, sorry for the delay everyone. I usually post things either before or after work, but my car died and I had to take rides from my mom yesterday, which meant being late for work and having to leave immediately from there. Since I have no internet at home (kind of fortunate; if I did I might never get anything written), I couldn't post – and today didn't work out much better until now.

Anyway, here it is: The last chapter of Night Plague… for now.

They rode in the carriage to a restaurant, went inside, and left again as soon as the cabby was gone. Van Savage glanced around cautiously and then led the party several blocks through winding alleyways. At his bidding, they broke up their group and pretended to be strolling idly every time an officer passed on his beat.

"Why are we hiding from the police?" asked Judy in a whisper. "If someone's robbing Lucy's grave, shouldn't we-?"

Van Savage raised a paw to stop her. "You will understand all by daybreak."

Judy was getting less and less sure of the professor's sanity, and glanced over at Doctor Seward. The doctor seemed to sense her worries, and by his wide eyes she could tell that he was not only doubtful, but afraid. He nodded, though, in answer to her unspoken question.

"This is not a matter for the police," he said quietly. "Come on."

They made their way in this grim and doubtful manner to the place where they had entered the catacombs on that awful and dismal day. Van Savage and Doctor Seward brought out lanterns and lucifers, and in a moment had the former casting their flickers on the walls of the passage.

"I know we all know the way," whispered Van Savage, "but stick close together. We mustn't get separated tonight, especially on our errand. Do you all understand?"

Silence reigned among them as they nodded, though Arthur answered grimly, "If you're worried about the beast desecrating my Lucy," he hissed, drawing his cloak open, "just point me to the devil and stand aside if you sight him."

The gleam of the lanterns glinted on a pistol.

"Okay, is it too late to get off this train?" asked Nick warily.

Van Savage shook his head at the gun. "That will do us little good," said he, "but it is too late now. There are things at work I cannot voice, but you must see them with your own eyes. Lord Goredalming, you must promise me you will not use that weapon unless I give you leave."

The stag scowled. "I will not spare the life of-"

"You fool!" cried Van Savage, his voice breaking into a shout. Then he quieted at once as the echos died away. "Lord Goredalming, by your love for Miss Lucy you must promise me you will not shoot at anyone, or I will not go one step further and you will not know this mystery."

Amid the standoff, none save Judy saw Quincy slip a paw to the side of his own long coat. She remembered then that the buck, who had been some years in the Amarecan west, always carried a rabbit-sized revolver out of long habit.

Oblivious to the doe's realization, Goredalming and Van Savage stared one another down. Van Savage held it bravely despite his lordship's greater height and youth, and at last Goredalming let his cloak fall shut. "So be it," he scowled, "but if I see anybeast lay a finger on Lucy's body, I can no longer answer for my actions."

Van Savage sighed. "That's the least of my worries," he uttered, motioning them all to follow once again.

Judy had never liked caves, and found herself keeping uncommonly close to Nick. He, for his part, was shaking.

"This is like something out of my nightmares," he whispered. "The ones about the castle."

Van Savage nodded knowingly, then pricked his ears suddenly as if he had heard a sound. Warily he looked over his shoulder at the fox. "Do you have some premonition of this, Friend Wilde?"

Nick shook his head. "That's not the word I'd use."

Van Savage regarded him thoughtfully. "Tell me at once of any change or suspicion," he advised.

The fox's tail crept between his legs. "I suspect this was a really bad idea," he admitted.

It felt like they walked half the night before they reached the passage leading to the cavern which held the Westenruts' vault. Like a good many underground cemeteries, it was one great chamber with many side caves, either natural or produced by adding stone here or cutting it away there. The cave was blocked off by a great heavy door, with no opening by which so much as a pygmy shrew might pass. Yet Van Savage, passing his lantern to Lord Goredalming, reached into his pocket and drew out a key

"Where did you get that?" asked Nick as the wolf unlocked the gate.

"We are in desperate circumstances," said Van Savage resolutely. "I had to borrow the grounds keeper's key and make a copy in order to do what must be done."

"I still don't get why we're not going through the police about this," admitted Judy, entering with the rest.

Nick nodded. "That would make it easier."

Arthur took a different view. "I say all the better. Whoever did this, prison is too good for them."

Doctor Seward patted his fellow ungulate on the shoulder. "Friend, you don't know what you're saying." His eyes darted around as though the tombstones hid watching sentries. "The evil in-"

"John," warned Van Savage, stopping him. "Please, let all see for themselves."

The oryx fell silent, and his mentor led them all into the cavern. It was a solemn procession, subdued by a feeling like nothing any of them had every imagined. A cold, vacuous feeling sensation them; a cold that was more than want of warmth. The walls in this cemetery were lined with luminous moss, but the whole of the place seemed laden with darkness beyond darkness, as if something were consuming such light as there was. Even Van Savage did not speak when they reached the Westenrut crypt; a side passage marked at its entrance by fine stonework resembling the front of an above-ground mausoleum. A thick door made to shut in the fumes of decay covered the opening completely, held by a lock.

As they looked on, Van Savage reached into his pocket, paused, and looked down at the receptacle, uttering a mild oath. "A hole!" he cried. "Blast- and now of all times too. Well, this will have to suffice." So saying, he drew something out and threw it on the ground before the tomb in dismay.

"What is that?" asked Judy.

"Seeds," answered the professor. "Now, do just as I tell you. We must all hide ourselves, particularly so we are not seen from the entrance."

None understood these strange orders save for Doctor Seward, who looked as though he either might die of fear where he stood or wished he would. He took his place behind one of several statues of angels, placed around the cavern as if to stand a solemn and eternal vigil over the dead. The others all waited in back of similar statues or behind great stone stalagmites. Nick, who was shaking like a leaf, hid with Quincy, and Judy took her place with them as well.

When they had placed themselves, Judy called across the way to Van Savage, voicing the question which was on all their minds. "Now what?"

"We wait," came the wolf's simple answer as he opened his lantern. Raising it to his lips, he snuffed out the light with a quiet puff. Then he drew his cloak tightly around himself as Quincy imitated his deed.

So they huddled in their overcoats – and Judy in her shawl – and watched the Westenrut mausoleum not far off in the dim luminescence of the cave. Time crept. Water dripped. Their eyes slowly adjusted until even Judy, whose eyes were least suited to darkness, could see pretty well what went on around the cave. Now and then one or another of them dozed, though Quincy had brought some small flasks of coffee by which they might refresh themselves. Sometimes they would glance at the surrounding tombs, half-fancying that some ghost might come out in anger at their presence in this hallowed ground. Most of the time, though, their eyes were fixed on the tomb of the Westenruts, where so recently they had placed the bodies of their dear friend and her mother.

Of course to distribute the coffee he had with him, Quincy had to dart from one hiding place to another now and again. Every time he went to Van Savage, he brought with him questions from the others – for Van Savage sternly commanded that no one raise their voices. Apart from queries about the hour, which crept by in merciless slowness, the wolf's answers were all alike: "Wait and see."

At last, only a couple of hours before dawn, something happened. Somewhere they heard a weak cry, such as a child might give in sleep.

"What was that?" asked Judy, tensing at the sudden breach of silence.

"Our enemy," answered Van Savage's voice. "Silence now! Silence!"

Suddenly, a strange white figure seemed to appear from the direction of the doorway. There was no sound or sign of the passageway into the cemetery opening; the figure wasn't there, and then it was. They all caught their breaths as it moved silently among the markers towards the Westenrut crypt. Judy glanced toward Arthur and saw that Van Savage had joined him in his hiding place. His lordship had brought out his weapon, but the professor had a paw firmly clamped on his shoulder to dissuade him.

Looking back at the figure, Judy squinted to see what she could make out. It was very thin and pale, whatever it was, and had a tapered muzzle. She felt as if she knew it from somewhere, but where she could not imagine.

The figure reached the Westenrut tomb and stopped, looking at the ground. Dropping upon its knees, it began to claw and pick at the cavern floor as if gathering something up. While it was thus engaged, they all looked on intently. Suddenly, a horrible truth struck Judy at the same instant that disaster broke upon them.

"Lucy!" cried Arthur, breaking from his and the professor's hiding place.

"No!" cried the professor, throwing himself after Arthur, but it was too late. They were betrayed now, and the figure turned to face them.

Judy stood transfixed. It was Lucy, but how strangely and terribly changed she was! Her pure beauty had been turned to voluptuousness, and her kind eyes now gleamed a cold and hungry red. Her lips parted, showing two tiny pointed teeth like daggers as a thin rivulet of some dark liquid trickled out. Judy didn't know what to think, but she had an overwhelming assurance that this thing – whatever it was and however it looked like her lost sister – was evil.

"Arthur," Lucy crooned as Van Savage, who had caught the buck, now wrestled with all his strength to keep him pinned to the ground. Objects clattered from his pockets as he fought his captive.

Arthur stared like one enchanted, his struggles briefly halting.

"Arthur, my dear. My husband. Come embrace me." Her voice was as smooth as oil, but there was something in it that was definitely not of Lucy.

The red deer's struggles began anew, spurring the others to run to the professor's aid in holding his lordship down. Van Savage looked up, and his eyes flashed as if he would throw himself on the creature and tear it like his ancestors of old. "Stay back, you monster," he snarled, fighting to subdue the struggling buck. "He is not yours, and you have no right to him!"

"What do you mean?!" cried Arthur, fighting to rise. "It's Lucy! It's Lucy!"

"It's not Lucy!" cried Van Savage.

The thing – whatever it was – caught sight of Judy, who was under no restraint. "Judy, my dear sister," it called. "Sweet Judy, pledged to be my friend forever."

Judy felt her mind begin to slow down, as if she were struggling through a thick morass. She let go of Arthur's leg, stood up, and began to walk toward the doe.

"Judy!" cried Nick. Terror broke his restraint, spurring him into motion again. He threw himself at Judy, pulling her to the ground.

It could only be a matter of time before the tension broke, and their hot-blooded Amarecan rabbit was the one to do it. Falling off the thrashing red deer, he thrust a paw into his coat and came out with the revolver. Two loud explosions tore the air as he fired.

The Lucy figure jerked. Arthur screamed and went still under Van Savage and Seward..

Yet nothing else happened. Lucy – or the thing that looked like Lucy – remained standing. Her eyes burned brighter, and her mouth opened in an angry snarl.

Judy shook herself as if awakening from a daze. She knew now, without any question, that the thing before her was evil – and that it wasn't Lucy. Puling herself free of Nick's grasp, she cast her eyes around for a weapon. A bright gleam next to Van Savage caught her eye.

"Judy!" cried Nick, trying to catch her again.

Arthur lifted his head. "What's happening?"

"It didn't hurt it!" exclaimed Quincy.

Judy slipped from Nick's grasping paws, darted to Van Savage, and snatched up the object; a letter knife, but as good as a large dagger to her.

"No!" cried the wolf.

The cry was to no avail. Whipping around and cutting an arc past Nick, Judy threw herself at the figure and buried the knife in its leg. The Lucy-thing threw back its head and screamed a horrible unearthly wail, swinging and arm and striking Judy hard. She flew several yards as the thing yanked the knife from itself and threw it away like hot iron. Then it turned, and before their shocked eyes, slid into the crack by the vault door as though it were no more than a wisp of smoke.

All of them stared in amazement after the strange apparition.

"What in tarnation?" asked Quincy.

Van Savage, breathing raggedly, rose to his paws.

"Friend Judy," he gasped, "lie still a moment, and we will attend you. I must seal it in before it stalks more this night."

None of them understood his purpose, but they watched as he drew a vial from his pouch and with it daubed all around the door.

"Putty, mixed with a mash of garlic," he explained.

Doctor Seward rose and went to Judy, who was unhurt save for bruises and a torn dress.

"What was the maddest thing I ever saw," he told her breathlessly. "How could you charge it like that?"

"Uncommon valor," answered Van Savage, recovering the knife from where it had been cast. "Well that I brought this. It is silver; one thing which can harm the undead."

"Undead?" asked Nick. The word cast a mysterious horror over him, and he would have thought he had no room for further dread.

Lord Goredalming, meantime, sat up looking quite dazed. "What was all that?" he asked. "That creature… it looked like Lucy."

"We must not talk here," was the wolf's answer. "Come. We have seen what we must and done all that now can be done. Let us go to Friend John's and there take our counsel."

They found a small cub – a dark-furred jaguar – outside the cemetery door. This, Van Savage asserted, was the source of the strange cry they had heard. "We leave him where officer will find," said he. "He is a victim of the Bloofer Lady, and will be, I think, her last one, but he will live."

True to the professor's decision, no more explanation was given of the matter until they had gone back to Doctor Seward's house and had some glasses of wine to steady all their nerves. Then Van Savage began his account.

"You all have some knowledge, I think, of the principle of demonic possession. If accounts are to be believed, the forces of Hell have it in their power to, at times, enter into mortal bodies and manipulate them as a hand may control a glove or a puppet. The demon thus gains power to work in the physical realm, and with it all the advantages of flesh, as the ability to eat and drink. Also, the body thus captured is endowed with strange powers. Supernatural strength, resistance to harm, and other besides. But these powers are not enjoyed by those so held, as they are more often than not helpless slaves until they are exorcised. We have nothing less than the holy scriptures as proof.

"It is so with living bodies which are possessed, but it has been said that if a dead body is so indwelt, the powers become stranger and more terrible still." He looked around the room with great severity. "I believe we have encountered just such a body this night."

A terrible chill went through the room as all of them realized some piece or other of preceding events which had foreshadowed this revelation. Moreover, they all remembered Van Savage's remarks some hours before about Lucy being desecrated. It was indeed worse than any of them could have dreamed.

"How did this happen?" demanded Arthur. "You seem to know much more than you tell, professor!"

Van Savage sighed. "I read much of such things when I was young – as I intimated once to friend Nicholas – but it has been many years. At first I thought, like John, that this was some disease of the flesh. When I sat up, though, I awoke to see a mist coming into the room; coalescing into a thing. It moved to attack me as well, but fled when I called for salvation. I knew then it was of Hell. I thought to tell all, but who would heed me? So I used such defenses as I might, hidden under a mummery of medical remedies. May God judge me if I have erred."

This seemed to placate Arthur, and he settled by a little.

"Well now we're all crazy together," Nick summed up, "so what do you know about these things?"

Van Savage took a sip of his wine to steady himself. "These creatures – the undead, if you will – are known by many names, but vampire will suffice as well as any. Because their bodies are dead they cannot consume food and make life from it. Instead, they must steal the life from the living by means of the blood."

"The child," whispered Judy, horrified.

"Yes, the child. That child and the others like him are now safe, but I must go on. I do not think that Miss Lucy was possessed of her own doing, as a witch might be. Rather, she had this forced on her by necromancy which, to my knowledge, is new or at least newly discovered. This is the worst of it, for there is another in Zootopia at this very hour, with powers far worse than the one we faced."

Judy and Nick both sat bolt upright. "The Count!" cried Nick. "Count Dracula!"

"The one that was stealing Lucy's blood!" exclaimed Judy at the exact same instant.

Van Savage blinked at the twin outbursts, then nodded calmly. "We have two detectives among us, I see. You are both right. Nicholas Wilde, your former client Count Dracula is the villain, and if I am right there are not less than three others at his home in Transylvania, as I gather from your experience there. They are all of them nosferatu, as we call them in my country, and this Dracula is author of Lucy's death and desecration."

Arthur jumped to his feet. "How can we stop him?!" he demanded. "What can we do to save Lucy?!"

"Sit down," said the professor with an air of quiet command. "Yes, the monster is still at large, and doubtless works more evil still. I must go home for a day or two and research this matter thoroughly, but first we must dispatch the fiend that has taken Lucy's body. Before I tell you what must be done, I must warn you that it will be terrible – worst of all for you, I think, Lord Goredalming. I will bear the worst of it if I must, but any who undertake this will tread a dark and bloody path."

No one moved to leave, and it was Judy who spoke next. "You talked about exorcism," she reasoned. "How do we exorcise her?"

Van Savage sighed heavily. "If the old tales speak truly, a stake must be driven through the heart to paralyze the undead while it lies in its coffin by day. Once this is done, the true exorcism can be done. We must… we must cut off the head and fill the mouth with garlic."

Arthur turned pale at the thought of doing this to his beloved wife, and Van Savage nodded sympathetically.

"I know it is a dreadful thing to ask, but can anything be worse than what that fiend is doing with her body? I think truly that her soul is with the angels now, and naught we can do will harm her. Yet with or without harm to herself, would she not have us do this to rid the world of evil done from behind her so sweet face?"

The bereaved husband nodded. "She would," he said shakily. "She would, but…" Then he steeled himself and turned his back. "Do whatever you have to, please, but I ask one thing in return."

"Say on."

He turned back to face them all, and his eyes burned with sorrow and anger. "Let me do the same to this Dracula," he ordered. "If we can catch Lucy, then we can catch him. Let me do to him as you must do to her, and all other vengeance that can be had."

Van Savage looked serious. "Seeking revenge is the devil's foothold," he warned, lifting an index finger. "Let us do all with integrity." Then, seeing the stricken look on the stag's face, he added, "Just the same, I think that you have the best claim as she was your wife. I cannot promise that any one of us will not end up as she, and the others be compelled to exorcise that one too… but if ever I have the chance, I shall not contest your right of retribution. You, however, must promise to follow my instructions in every particular, however small. We are in the realm of spirits and devils here, and I make no pretense to be wiser than they. Still, I am wiser than you in these matters. Heed me and we may all live. We are all doomed otherwise."

"I swear it," said Arthur at once.

"I'll throw in my hat," added Quincy.

"We're in too," Judy agreed, drawing a startled look from Nick.

Van Savage also looked surprised. "Miss Judy," he objected, "I know you and Lucy were close, but-"

"It's not about that," she argued, her eyes glinting with determination. "I'm not sitting by while something like that runs loose. Besides, after what Dracula did to Lucy, and to Nick…"

Van Savage pushed his glasses up on his snout. "I think friend Nicholas should seek to settle his own grievances."

"And I," added Nick, "don't think this is a good idea, Carrots. If Dracula can do this much damage, I'd like to keep you as far away from him as possible. Maybe a nice trip to New Yak about now?"

She turned her eyes on him. "If you're in, I'm in."

He swallowed reluctantly and nodded. "I guess we're in," he assented.

All eyes turned to Doctor Seward, who simply nodded. "I'm not going to back out of this either," he agreed. "I was the first you trusted, Professor, and I'll be the last one to leave."

Van Savage nodded his satisfaction. "Very well. You have proved yourself of fine courage, and I commend it. Then we are all of us pledged to this quest, as it were; to hunt down and destroy this monster and his devilish kinfolk from off the face of the earth. Tomorrow afternoon, such of us as have courage for it shall meet in the cemetery at noon and hide until all have left. We shall exorcise Lucy with none to hear, and meet again in no more than three days' time."

"What should we do in those three days?" asked Quincy.

The wolf's answer was gravity itself. "Set our affairs in order. This is a dark business from which some of us – perhaps all – may not come back living."

And there you have it: the end... or the beginning. My apologies for cutting it off before the, uh... cutting off, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting longer.

The reference to lucifers was a shot in the dark (no pun intended). For some time, the uncapitalized version was used to refer not to the Prince of Darkness - as appropriate as that is for this chapter - but to matches. The word "lucifer" derives from the Latin "lux" for light, so this is not as strange as it might seem.

I realize that I accounted for most of what one would need to know about the catacombs/Nocturnal District in the previous chapter, but I suspect it would be much less inhabited than the underground semi-city I created for, say, Something Stinks (had a lot of fun with Judy's drive through it in chapter one of that story). As with Something Stinks, it would probably be a combination of natural and artificial tunnels and chambers. The cemetery in which Lucy was buried would probably be a natural cavern, onto which (or out of which) vaults might be dug either in existing protrusions or solid rock, depending on what was available.

Those familiar with the original Dracula will notice I skipped having Van Savage take nearly as active a role in repelling the Lucy vampire, and that no mention is made of a cross or sacred bread. I will save my full thoughts on the matter for the full version, I think (or answering comments if anyone asks directly), but I did the former because in this version Van Savage is not so much a fearless vampire hunter as the only one who has half an idea what's going on. The latter is because the idea of crosses or consecrated bread having any significance (save as a means of execution and a food item, respectively) stems from the Bible, and if the Bible is at all to be believed then using sacred objects for combat generally doesn't end well (see 1 Samuel 4, when the sons of the high priest tried to use the Ark of the Covenant as a good luck charm). Silver has long been considered a useful weapon against all manner of supernatural entities, as has iron. I learned from WANMWAD that both solid silver and silver-plated objects were common enough when Dracula was written, and it seemed likely that the professor would be well-to-do enough to have such a letter knife, and would be less wary of using that and other secular deterrents to risking a blasphemous use of something sacred (I plead guilty to projecting some of my background and views onto the good professor).

So that's it for this version. Thanks to everyone who read, and I hope you all enjoyed it. Please feel free to fave, review, and check out my other works. Now that Halloween's over I'll be continuing with my long-on-hold Christmas fic, "Fox Dens and Rabbit Trails: Santa Clawed."

Happy Reading!