A/N (PK): Hmm…I can't really think of an A/N right now…maybe I should write it after I type up the chapter, like normal, sane people?

…

Nah. Oh well. Fic here!

Shooting another look at each other, Gilly and Drake both dashed for the basement door—

—And collided in the narrow doorway.

"Get off—"

Thump. Gilly was hit by a mysterious metal flask in Drake's pocket as the vampire tried to shove her away.

Ooh, shiny. She snagged it, then continued the tirade.

"—You back off—"

Crack. This time, as she smacked his no-longer gelled head, her other hand reached into his coat pocket and nicked a florescent lighter.

Ooh, what a pretty red.

"Youch! You little—"

They were interrupted by a piercing scream from the cellar. Shooting another glance at each other, Gilly graciously let the vampire through the doorway first.

Once she had managed to rush down the stairs at a leisurely pace, Gilly paused, her jaw dropping open at the sight that greeted her mostly colorblind eyes. She was so absorbed that she almost ran into the suddenly still vampire.

The walls, ceiling and floor were all painted an oily black. The ground had a bloody pentagram inscribed upon it. Shiny, un-rusty chains hung upon the walls, and a small altar was set up in the far corner, full of cheesy B-movie paraphernalia, included fragrant black candles, skulls, goblets full of a suspiciously red liquid, pentacles, ankhs, and a few of what looked like upside down crosses. Wavering candlelight illuminated the entire chamber.

Oh, and there were at least two dozen figures in black robes lining the perimeter.

But what caught Gilly and Drake's attention was the couple in the center of the room. Or, more precisely, they were focused on the redhead as she slapped her ex across his already-bruised face, hard, and followed it with a knee in the groin.

"Yee-ahhhhh!"

"How could you?" she demanded.

Punch.

"Yowww!"

Drake shook out of it and cautiously moved towards the deranged and possibly very violent woman. Gilly just shrugged and began to play with her newly stolen possessions.

"After all we've been through?"

Kick.

"Urgh."

The half-zombie discovered that the lighter made pretty fire.

"I mean, here I thought you were a nice, solid guy. And you turn out to be a complete scumbag, you son of a b—"

The vampire effectively cut her diatribe short by grabbing the fist before it could complete its momentum upward to catch the offending Satan worshipper under his jaw.

But now her steely glare was turned upon poor Drake.

"What?" she snarled.

He nodded towards the ring of cloaked Satan worshippers who were getting considerably closer. The vampire grabbed Jesse's arm and pulled her away from her half-conscious ex, moving them closer to the door.

Meanwhile, Gilly had finally opened the flask, oblivious to the going-ons around her. Taking one whiff of the liquid inside, she jerked away, scrunching up her nose. The clear liquor splashed across the hardwood floor.

Gin smelled worse as one's olfactory sense improved. Luckily a distraction turned up.

"What do we do now?" Drake asked, just about in a panic. He stood between a demonic zombie…thing and a violent, quick-to-anger ex, facing an advancing column of silent satanic necromancers. The door was behind them, but there was no way they could all make it up the stairs and get out before the black-robed lunatics attacked.

And then he heard a click. Turning his head to the right, he saw a very frightening sight: Gilly was grinning. And her eyes were blood red.

Oh, and she had his lighter. His lit lighter.

And she was holding it to his sleeve.

A quick side note here: vampires are flammable.

"Arrrggghhhh!" he yelled, dropping and rolling around on the floor, trying to put out the flames before they could touch his flesh.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Jessica's mouth.

The Satan worshippers paused, mere feet away from the small resistance.

Gilly stared with interest for a few moments…and then she chucked the lighter at the row of robed people. The still lit lighter.

They were standing very conveniently in the pool of spilt liquor.

As screams began to fill the air and flailing robe sleeves transferred flames to the wooden support beams of the basement, Gilly, Jesse and Drake headed out.

Needless to say, our hero and heroines escaped unscathed (mostly) from the burning basement, running across the street to watch the house blaze against the night sky. Soon it collapsed into smoldering red coals. And in the morning, it was nothing but a pile of ashes.

Because of course, no one bothered to call the fire department.