Fangs Vampire Spy: Monsters by
Tommy Donbavand
Special agent Fangs Enigma gripped the control stick of the sleek, black helicopter and tilted the rotor blades gently to the left. His flight path corrected, he bared his teeth to reveal two long, vampire fangs. His tongue snaked out and tapped one of them, causing it to light up a bright, shimmering blue. "Any word from HQ?' he asked. In the rear of the helicopter, werewolf and fellow secret agent, Puppy Brown, typed hurriedly at the keyboard of her laptop computer. She tongued one of her own fangs to reply. "Nothing yet, boss, although the MP1 satellite is still picking up the cry for help." Fangs nodded to himself. MP1 - or Monster Protection, First Unit employed orbiting satellites to listen out for certain keywords which might alert them to criminal behaviour in the supernatural community. Whenever one of these 'hot' phrases was heard, it was down to MP1 operatives like Fangs and Puppy to investigate. "Play it again," said Fangs. Puppy clicked on her mouse, launching a secretly recorded audio file. Instantly, a voice echoed out around the helicopter. It was a man's voice, and he sounded scared. "They're monsters!" he sobbed. "Monsters, I tell you! Keep them away from me!" Fangs thought for a second. "Any idea what kind of monsters he's talking about?" he asked. "Zombies? Ogres? Poltergeists?" "Can't be more specific at the moment, I'm afraid," said Puppy. "I've sent details back to headquarters, and the team are searching for any supernatural activity in the victim's area." "You still haven't said where that is," Fangs pointed out. "All I have is a map reference at the moment."
"Give me a second," said Puppy, dragging a map of the UK over the top of the satellite view on her screen. "It's a small place called Beanotown." "Never heard of it," said Fangs. "Well, someone supernatural has," said Puppy. "And it sounds as though they're causing trouble." "I bet it's a troll," growled the vampire.
"They've been out for
revenge ever since we evicted them from living under London's bridges last month." "We'll find out soon enough," said Puppy, snapping shut her laptop and joining Fangs. "We've arrived." Fangs eased forward on the helicopter's controls and brought the aircraft down to land in the playground of a school. He cut the engines and whipped off his small, black sunglasses for a better view at their location. "Not exactly what I was expecting," he said as the pair jumped down from the cockpit. Puppy launched an app on her smartphone. Instantly, a red dot appeared on the screen. "That's the victim," she said. "He's inside." The young werewolf started for the school entrance, but Fangs raised a hand to stop her. "What if the monster is a troll?" he asked. Puppy unclipped a small, silver canister from her utility belt. "I've got enough knock-out gas to send an entire family of them off for a little nap!" she said with a smile. "Then, let's go!" The two agents followed the signal into the school, past the staff room where an oblivious Headmaster was enjoying a cup of tea and some biscuits. They paused outside the school dining room where a dinner lady was stirring soup in a huge pan.
Puppy sniffed at the air. "I think you might be right about the trolls, boss," she whispered. "I'm getting a distinct odour of sweat, snot and fungus." "Then, we go in fast and neutralise the target as quickly as possible," hissed Fangs. "OK" agreed Puppy, checking her smartphone one more time. "The victim is in there."
She nodded to a door at the end of the
corridor. Class 2B. "Now!" yelled Fangs, racing for the door and kicking it open. Shards of wood splintered everywhere. Puppy dashed around her boss, the can of knock-out gas ready in her hairy paw. She spotted the victim - a male teacher - cowering behind his desk. "We're from MP1!" she said, hurrying over.
"Where are the
monsters?" "Th... th... there!" blubbed the teacher, pointing to the back of the room. "They're so... horrible! Save me from them, please!" Puppy followed his gaze and froze. At their desks was a group of bizarre looking children. But, instead of writing essays or working on sums, they were causing chaos... The youngsters were spraying graffiti, carving their names into the furniture, and firing missiles at each other. An ugly boy with jug ears was racing to see how many mirrors he could break with his reflection in one minute; a brother and sister were wrapping up the only normal looking pupil like an Egyptian mummy; and a large boy at the back of the room was handing out sausages from a scorching barbeque. "I don't think we've got enough knock-out gas," said Puppy. In the doorway, Special Agent Fangs Enigma tapped his blue tooth and made a call to MP1 HQ. "This is Agent Enigma requesting urgent back-up."
A wet voice gurgled out from his other fang. "What is it, Enigma? What have you got there? Skeletons? Witches? Dragons?" Fangs Enigma swallowed hard. "Much worse than any of those, sir." He and Puppy shared a nervous glance. "They're Bash Street Kids!"
THE END