"Oooh, not scared, are you, Vicki? Nothing to be scared of with Hercules around!" The lanky teenager postured in his best imitation of the TV hero, albeit a slightly drunk one, as he brandished his plastic, golden sword. Steve brushed his long, stringy hair out of his eyes, silently vowing to shave it all off in the morning, now that Halloween was almost over.

Vicki laughed again, but briefly, before turning serious. "I just hate wandering around downtown this late. Especially on Halloween — too many weirdos out!" Vicki shivered as she fidgeted with a fold of chiffon on her skirt.

"You mean, like me?" He grinned maniacally at the young girl, causing her to shriek with nervous laughter. A swift punch in the arm, however, calmed Steve down enough to allow them to continue their progress home.

The party they had just come from had been wild — too much food, too much music, and too much beer — but it had been just the thing for the two high-school seniors and their classmates; their last, best Halloween party. Steve had paraded his hard-earned track muscles in front of the entire pep squad, hoping to make Vicki just jealous enough that she would finally consent. They had been dating for two years now — having met at a Halloween party when they were sophomores — and in all that time, Vicki had yet to agree to go all the way. Not ready, she had said, and he had never pushed her. But tonight ... well, tonight, Steve was feeling ready — feeling like Vicki should be ready, too. After all, this was their senior year; time was short and the year seemed to be going by so fast.

Steve put his arm around Vicki's waist and hugged her. He inhaled the tangerine shampoo-scent of her hair before placing a properly chaste kiss on her temple. "You know, Vic, it's still kinda early.... Your parents won't be waiting up for you, right? So, I was just thinking...." The young man ran his free hand under Vicki's cashmere sweater. Steve'd had a hard time suppressing his laughter when she had put it on as they had left the party — though they were a few weeks away from snow, it was still cold, especially at this late hour — but she just looked so funny: her frumpy, pink sweater, more suited to a bobby-soxer's costume than her May Queen's, covered her bare shoulders and the sheer fabric of her midriff-revealing bodice, and looked completely out of place with her yellow skirt — the remanent of a bridesmaid dress she had worn two summers ago.

"Steve, I don't know...."

"Come on," he said, warm lips on her cheek. "You haven't forgotten, have you? Our anniversary?" He knew sentimental junk like remembering important dates always got to her and he hoped that tonight, in combination with her alcohol-induced ease, it would have the desired effect. He stopped, in the middle of the sidewalk, and turned her to face him. "I ... I love you, Vicki." Her eyes were a deep blue, like the western sky just after sunrise, and he watched them begin to fill with tears before he placed a gentle kiss full on her lips. It only took a moment for her to melt into him. She ran her hands around his waist and returned his kiss with added fervor.

Steve pulled back, with a very happy smile on his lips. He would not push her if she still was not ready, but he planned to give her every opportunity to make up her mind every step of their way home and this was a real good start.

As they began walking again, the pretty blonde rested her head against her boyfriend's shoulder and hugged him to her. "Steve ... what's gonna happen next year? I mean, are you really thinking about leaving?"

"Yeah, 'fraid so. If I go to my granddad's alma mater he says he'll pay for the whole thing, right down to pocket money! I don't think I can pass that up — don't think my parents will let me."

"But British Columbia is so far away...." Vicki knotted her hand in the fabric of her skirt, swishing it in frustration and causing the chiffon to shimmer in the pool of light from the street lamp.

Steve kissed the top of his girlfriend's head. "I know. I wish it wasn't. But you could always come with me," he smiled encouragingly.

"You know I can't. It will be hard enough trying to scrape together enough money to go to school here ... unless you think your grandfather would be willing to pay for my education as well?"

"Somehow I don't think that's very likely. But, hey, I'll be home for breaks and stuff. I won't forget about you," he promised, rubbing Vicki's hand tenderly.

"You better not ... not after tonight," she smiled coyly.

"Tonight? Vicki, really?! Are you sure?"

She nodded, dipping her head slightly with sudden embarrassment.

Steve beamed and caught her up in a quick embrace. Now the only problem was where — they could have had a bedroom back at the party if Vicki had only made up her mind earlier, but now.... "Location, location, location," the anxious teenager mumbled to himself.

Then he saw it. The deserted church — the one Leo had said was haunted. What better place than a scary old building to have sex in on Halloween night? A wide, wicked grin crossed Steve's face as he pulled Vicki towards the front steps.

"Hey, where are we ... oh, no! I'm not going in there! There're ghosts in there!" Vicki dug her heels into the concrete and refused to budge another step towards the boarded-up old building.

"Aw, you don't believe in that sort of stuff, do you?"

"Yeah, I do!" she insisted. "Leo said he heard music — an electric guitar!"

"Last time I checked, baby, ghosts weren't playing electric guitars. Organs, yes; guitars, no. Trust me on this. Besides, you know Leo; he's got guitars on the brain," Steve scoffed. Leo had a tendency to get a bit over-the-top and in-your-face about things: nothing in moderation for Vicki's brother. A real pain-in-the-ass wanna-be who had never stopped acting like a junior high-school freshman, though he was only a year behind them in school. "Him and that stupid rock band he thinks is gonna make it big any day now. Might help if he actually learned how to play. Naw. He just oughta stop dreaming; I mean, as much as he wants, he'll never be Jimmy Page!"

Steve continued to coax Vicki towards the dark building as he talked, hoping that once they were inside she would be fine. It was their best bet for a bit of privacy before they reached their own homes — probably their only one, and Steve did not have any intention of passing up this sweet opportunity — ghosts or no ghosts!

"Come on, Vicki. There's nothing to worry about. Besides, you've got me" — Steve shifted his voice down to a baritone before continuing — "Hercules — dun tada dun — to protect you, fair maiden!" He scooped up the lithe, young woman in his arms, causing Vicki to grab the garland of cheap-silk cherry blossoms in her hair. Steve then carried her over the threshold of the church — a most romantic gesture which made her squeal with giddy delight.

But when the front door slammed closed, blocking out the light from the street and plunging them into complete darkness, the pair stopped laughing. "Steve, put me down" — a bit of a whine was creeping into her voice — "please?"

He set Vicki back on her feet, then tried to get a grip on himself, knowing that there was nothing to be afraid of. "It's okay. Just, ah, let me...." Steve dug into his pocket, removed his lighter, then flicked on the flame. "Okay. Now, there must be a few candles or something around here somewhere." Holding Vicki's hand in his, Steve made his way slowly forward into the oppressive silence of the church.

"Here we go." He pressed the lighter to the wick of the candle he had just discovered, then relaxed as the flame took hold. Steve passed the candle to his girlfriend, slipped the lighter back into his pocket, then pulled Vicki further into the church, intent on finding someplace comfortable for their little, private party.

"Steve ... I don't think this is such a good idea." Vicki squeezed his hand; her footsteps hesitant across the carpetless floor. "I mean, in a church? There's something wrong about that, don't you think?"

"Oh, like you care?" He rolled his eyes for no one's benefit but his own. "You haven't been to church since your grandma's funeral when you were twelve."

"Just 'cause I don't go doesn't mean that I don't believe in God, ya know. And it just seems ... sacrilegious or something." She was starting to sound reluctant about this, guilty. Definite mood breakers. Not a good thing.

"Look, it's just an old building. It hasn't been a church in a really long time," he tried to convince her, thankful that he had not even considered suggesting they do this in the cemetery. "I bet all the religious junk is gone, anyway — crosses and bibles and stuff. And they probably even unsanctified it when they left."

"De-sanctified," she corrected, forgetting how much he hated when she did that.

"Whatever. Point is, just 'cause it was a church sometime before we were even born doesn't mean it's holy ground now. Doesn't mean that we have anything to feel weird about. Right?" Steve squeezed her hand as he made his point. "I mean, you do wanna to do this, don't you, Vic? It was your idea. You're not getting cold feet, are ya?"

"No. I mean ... it has been two years, and ... well ... I think I'm ready — we're ready." He heard her scuffling her feet together and knew that she was doing that coy, little head-tilt thing of hers, the one that always got to him and in the place where it hurt the most.

"Oh, I know I'm ready...." Steve leered affectionately as he ran his hand under both her sweater and her costume, over her bare sides, pulling her close.

But his touch tickled and Vicki squirmed, dropping the candle, which promptly went out. "Damn! Sorry, Steve."

"Naa — my fault. I should've been more careful." Vicki was still locked in his embrace, so Steve availed himself of the opportunity and kissed her deeply. He ran his other hand through her silky blonde waves as his pressed tender kisses across her face. "You know, we don't really need that old candle anyway...."

Vicki returned his kiss and giggled before replying, "We do so need that candle, 'cause I'm not doing it right here on this bare floor!"

"Okay, okay." Steve broke their embrace, then dug into his pocket for his lighter again.

He flicked the disposable lighter to life and began looking around for the fallen candle. Vicki never released his hand during their search, of which they were both glad when his thumb cramped extinguishing the flame.

In the brief moment of darkness, Vicki let out a small shriek. "Something just brushed past my cheek!"

"Probably just a cobweb," Steve explained as he got the lighter going again.

"Ewww."

"Come on, help me find that candle," he said, holding the lighter down near the floor. But he was having no luck. "I don't know. Maybe it rolled behind one of those boxes. Might just be easier if we looked for another—"

"Did you see that?!" Vicki suddenly exclaimed.

"What — you found the candle?! Where is it?" he asked, thankfully, as his thumb was beginning to feel like it was going to do that cramp thing again.

"No. Something moved. Over there." In the dim light of the single flame, Steve saw Vicki pointing across the deeply-shadowed chapel.

"Vicki. It's nothing. Probably your poufy skirt making a weird shadow or something, okay? We're alone — trust me — just you, and me, a little candlelight ... if I can ever find that damn candle...." He kissed her again, knowing she would close her eyes and he could give his thumb a rest from lighter duty.

As they reluctantly broke contact, Vicki murmured, "So, are you going to find that candle so we can get on with this?" He felt her warm hands running over his back encouragingly. He kissed her again before redoubling his efforts at finding the wayward stub of wax. Vicki crouched down beside him to help look under the broken, discarded pews and around the odd, wooden crates.

"There it is again!" Vicki shouted as she leapt to her feet, pulling Steve completely off-balance. He landed hard on his butt, dropping Vicki's hand as well as the lighter, which he heard skitter off into the sudden darkness.

"Did you see it? Steve ... where are you?"

"Over here," he replied, trying to fight back his anger at having dropped the lighter. Then, suddenly, a strong hand came crushingly over his mouth, cutting off both air in and sound out.

"Light the lighter so I can see you." A tinge of fear was creeping into Vicki's voice, but it nowhere neared the level which was now flooding over Steve as an arm came around his waist, lifting him completely off the floor. He fought, but it only resulted in a tighter, more painful grip from his captor. Vicki's voice became more distant even as it grew more frantic; she was shrieking his name over and over and over. And he could not call back to her, though he tried.

Then, his feet touched the ground again; he attempted to stand up-right, but the arms bent him backwards, sending sharp pains down his spine and putting him completely off-balance, preventing any useful struggles. The hand across his mouth yanked his head aside with such force that Steve feared this attacker was trying to rip it completely off. And he still heard Vicki, her shouts turning to sobs, as well as the sounds of things thudding to the floor in the far-off distance. She was panicking, and he knew that she must be trying to find her way back through the dark chapel to the door again — back to the only source of light and what she would consider safety.

His head began to swim from lack of oxygen until the blackness which surrounded him crept in through his ears, dulling Vicki's cries into non-existence, and engulfing his brain, blotting out any thoughts of struggle or escape.

After a few deep breaths, he struggled to his feet. Dizzy, as if he was stoned, Steve leaned against what felt like a wooden crate until the vertigo faded. The young man felt so weak that he began to wonder if Leo had been dumb enough to actually drug him. Him and his moronic pranks!

"Someday he's gonna go too far and then...." Steve let the thought die, remembering Vicki. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if she had been in on the stunt, but knowing her better than that he quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous, which meant he now needed to find her. If Leo had pulled the same crap with her, there was no telling how hysterical she was.

Steve felt along the wall until he came to a door, which he opened very slowly, then crept into the next room. His eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, but there just was no light anywhere inside the church — not even through the windows, which he only now remembered had been boarded over.

Lacking much vision, he moved carefully across the floor, feeling for obstacles in his path as he went. And he listened. If Vicki was conscious, then she was undoubtedly crying. She cried at everything. Romantic movies, sappy greeting-cards, roller-coaster rides, scary movies.... There was no doubt in his mind that she would be in serious need of tissues — and probably a good dose of valium — when he found her. He was going to kill Leo this time.

As he reached what he thought must be the center of the chapel, he noticed a very thin ray of light on the wall near the ceiling. The young man looked around for the source and finally determined that it must be coming from the balcony above him. As Steve searched around for the stairs to the old choir loft, the light made his quest only marginally easier and he was eventually able to find the narrow, rickety staircase which lead up to the balcony. He took a few deep breaths, still feeling weak from whatever Leo had done to him — idiot! — then started up the stairs. When he reached the top, Steve noticed a small pool of light in front of the only doorway. He quietly made his way over, inching along the wall, wanting to surprise Leo, if at all possible. "The better to pummel you before you realize what's hit you," Steve said silently to himself.

Before he even reached the doorway, though, he began to hear noises from within. They were soft murmurs and moans, and he was sure they belonged to Vicki. Once he reached the entryway, he peered around the jamb. What he saw stunned him: Vicki lying in the middle of a pile of tarps and blankets; her voluminous skirt wadded-up under her head, shimmering in the flickering candlelight like an ethereal halo; her sweater simply gone; and her garland of flowers discarded against the foot of an iron candelabra. A dark-haired man in a black shirt was on top of her, making love to her. She moaned and cooed under the stranger's hands as he moved into her. Vicki ran her fingers through his long hair as she arched into him, her groans becoming louder as their movements became faster, harder. And then she screamed, "Oh, please. More. Ah. Please, more! More," she begged.

Steve stood still in the doorway, stunned to complete immobility as he watched another man take his girlfriend's virginity. And, yet, she seemed more than willing. Steve wanted to yell, to run, to hit something, but he could not move and he could not tear his eyes away from Vicki and the stranger. He continued his unwilling voyeurism as she arched her back again; she threw her head back and screamed with pleasure as he watched the orgasm burst through her. When Vicki's moans had subsided, the stranger stopped his rhythmic invasion and reached up to grab Vicki's hair, like strands of pure gold in the flickering candlelight; he yanked her head to the side, causing her, for the first time, to cry out in pain.

"Vicki!" Her name escaped Steve's lips in a soft tremble, inadvertently revealing his presence to the stranger who turned towards him: yellow eyes burned in the defiler's face like fire and gleaming-white fangs filled his open mouth. Horror froze Steve's features as the monster hissed at him. But in the next moment, he was forgotten as it turned back to Vicki, sinking fangs deep into her neck. Steve heard her moan again, as she had before, only with more pleasure and excitement — "Oh, Steve, please!" — this time using his name. She thought he was the one hurting her. How could she possibly think that?!

Steve watched, helpless, as the rosy blush of her skin faded pale; her bare arms across her taker's black shirt slowly turned to lifeless wax. Realization overcame fear as he watched his girlfriend being slowly, willingly, murdered and he was finally able to turn and flee. The track star's feet, however, were like lead and his knees felt unable to bear his weight. Still, he tried. Step by step he moved back towards the stairs — slowly, as if he were running through deep water.

At the top of the stairs, a steely arm came around Steve's waist, and he froze again. Cool breath on his neck and a strong odor of blood sent shivers down his spine.

"I gave her better than you ever could," the monster murmured in his ear. "Don't you want to feel what she felt?"

"Please," Steve whined. "Please, don't hurt me. Please?" Hot tears began to run down his face. "I'm only seventeen."

"So was I. Though I was never coward enough to beg for my life," the creature hissed, then pushed the boy away, down the stairs.

Steve stumbled and fell, rolling down and down, until he ended in a heap on the landing. He struggled to his feet, clutching at his now-separated shoulder — the adrenaline coursing through his body almost enough to numb the pain. Limping down the final half-dozen steps, the frightened teen fled towards the side door of the chapel, fingers landing on the handle, ready to throw it wide, when he was stopped once again.

"Leaving so soon... Steve? Don't you want what you came for? Come back inside," the creature whispered sweetly in Steve's ear, like an angel on the boy's shoulder. "Come, let me give you her ecstasy," he murmured as he ran his cold hands over the boy's trembling shoulders.

The fiend turned him in his arms, bringing them face to face, and Steve could not stop himself from looking into the demon's face. Relief flooded over him when he was greeted with warm-brown eyes, instead of the possessed-yellow ones he had feared. The eyes were so deep, and a sense of calm spread over Steve as he lost himself in their caverns.

"Let me take you there. Come," the stranger beckoned. And Steve did so, easily. Warm, tender fingers began to invade the nooks and crannies of the boy's brain as he felt himself being swallowed into this creature's embrace. His fear evaporated as words he did not understand caused memories of Vicki to wash into him. Somewhere off in the distance, a sharp, icy burning cut into his neck, though he hardly noticed the minuscule distraction. Waves of pleasure then began crashing over him, and Steve moaned, shuddering with pure, concentrated bliss. In his mind, he made love to Vicki, sweet and passionate, wild and tender. She became everything to him and his love for her soared.

"Vicki," he moaned, slowly slipping away into the comforting darkness of sleep and death.