Warning: Rating PG-13 for gothic elements (virgins, blood, the like…). Blame my American Lit teacher for this!

“Pure Blood”

Nosedive jumped at the feeling of a foreign hand running through his hair and whirled, puck launcher drawn, safety off. He sighed and nervously pushed his hair back when he saw no one or nothing behind him besides the empty stairs accented by cob webs and damp wood. Instantly deflating but still on end, he once more placed his launcher in the back of his jeans and rubbed his jacket arms again. He could deal with the coldness. Being from an all-ice planet, he had grown accustom to the temperatures of winter, but he wished with all his might that the freaky, Munsters’ mansion at least had lights. With the clamor of sheets of rain, the Migrator malfunctioning, and the only lights in the house a dim flashlight on the brink of losing its battery power and Tanya’s omnitool, Nosedive was on the edge.

When the Migrator’s windshield wipers failed to work and the storm was getting worse, Nosedive knew they were destined to go inside for shelter, yet for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling of utter doom that had settled in his gut. Shaking his head, he wished the storm would just end already, so they get out of there, make it to Phoenix for the game tomorrow, and he could finally break the record.

Grasping onto his last shred of dignity, he walked into the small pallor—and lost his grip on it.

He shrieked at the macabre message written across the back wall, too frightened to take out his puck launcher, too shocked to move toward his older brother. He needn’t worry, for a moment later, two strong hand grasped him by the shoulders and turned his body to the left, though his eyes remained captive, staring at the wall.

“Dive, what is it!” Wildwing asked earnestly, his blue eyes shimmering with worry. When Nosedive failed to answer, Wildwing shook him slightly. “Baby bro, what’s wrong?”

Nosedive lifted one shaky hand and pointed to the wall. “T—That!”

Mallory and Tanya flashed theirs lights over the wall, and a collective gasp resounded from the hallway.

There, written in blood, was a terrifying ultimatum.

“Give us the pure blood, and the tainted may live,” Tanya read lowly, walking into the room from behind the two brothers.

Duke let out a brief chuckle, though his hand remained on the hilt of his sword. “What were the chances of ending up in a haunted house?”

Stepping into the room, Canard shrugged. “Who wants to be the first to take a crack at what ‘pure blood’ and ‘tainted’ mean?”

“M—Maybe our spook is a Harry Potter fan,” Nosedive stammered, securely clutching onto Wildwing’s jacket. He relaxed a little when Wildwing put an arm around his shoulders, beckoning him closer, and nuzzled his brow.

“Wishful thinking, little brother,” the older brother replied. “Possibly ‘pure blood’ has a different meaning.”

“ ‘Pure’ as in ‘untainted,’ ” Grin’s cryptic voice rumbled. The giant duck closed the distance between he and Nosedive, shielding the teen between him and his brother.

“So, ‘untainted’ as in not slave’s blood?” Canard rationalized as he sat down on the dusty couch in the middle of the room. The condition of the furniture didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

Mallory shook her head and shifted the light off the wall. It was just too creepy. “How about ‘untainted’ as in never having a blood transfusion? As in having only your own blood?”

“No,” Grin disputed, gazing down sympathetically at Nosedive. “ ‘Tainted’ meaning ‘dirtied blood,’ ‘polluted blood.’ Ergo, ‘untainted’ meaning untouched… virgin’s blood.”

Abruptly, the team’s eyes snapped toward Nosedive, who immediately backtracked, but didn’t break out of Wildwing’s hold. “Whoa! Hold it! What makes you guys think I’m a virgin?” He glowered at his amused older brother. “Shut up!”

Wildwing, albeit smirking, spurted, “I didn’t say anything!”

“I don’t care. Shut up anyway.”

“Well, are you, kid?” Duke asked pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Scowling, Nosedive leaned his head against his brother’s shoulder and looked away. “I was fifteen when the Invasion happened. What do you think? I wasn’t one of those wild hatchings.” A sudden, wicked grin edged onto his face. “Not like my older brother.”

“Two years without this coming up!” Wildwing growled good-naturedly, knowing the majority of attention was now focused on him. “Two years, and now you have to bring this up?”

“Bring what up?” Tanya asked, a Chester cat smile upon her beak.

Wildwing’s cheeks reddened, and with his white feathers, it was easily noticeable. “Nothing!”

Mallory laughed. “Oh, come on, Wildwing. You’ve got to tell us now.”

Nosedive’s grin brightened. “See, when Wing was sixteen—”

Wildwing rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“—he had unprotected sex with his girlfriend, and when Larcen was…y’know, he had to tell Dad she was pregnant.”

“You have a hatchling?” Tanya inquired, shocked.

Wildwing smirked. “You mean other than Dive?”

“Hey!”

“No,” he replied, nuzzling Nosedive’s head. Still, his face was tinged pink. “Larcen just came late; that’s all. Of course, Dad practically went insane and made his reservations clear about us having girlfriends over without him home.”

“Yeah, and I was watched like a hawk by you and Dad the moment I said I liked anyone,” Nosedive grumbled, crossing his arms.

“We didn’t want you making my mistakes,” Wildwing said fondly.

“Yeah, well, because of it, now I’m going to become some sort of horror flick victim who somehow wanders away and whose heart is found hours later in a mailbox. I hope you’re happy.”

Wildwing scowled. “I knew it was wrong to let you see the Scream trilogy.”

“Or Resident Evil One and Two,” Duke replied dryly.

Tanya laughed shortly. “Or Texas Chainsaw Massacres, Butterfly Effect, and all the Final Destinations.”

Mallory shook her head. “How about the eighty Halloweens, The Ring and Ring 2, Ghost Ship, From Hell, The Secret Window, Nightmare on Elm’s Street, or—”

“—Darkness Falls,” Canard interrupted, “Children of the Corn, Jeepers Creepers and its sequel, The Others, Psycho—”

“—and Cujo,” Grin finished bitterly.

Nosedive’s eyes went wide. “You think a dog wrote that?”

Wildwing shook his head. “Thanks a lot, guys. I’m just feeling the support.” Grimacing, he felt the need to ask his teammates a personal question, even though he was pretty sure of the answers. “I know this is embarrassing, but I think under the circumstances, the information is needed. Any chance none of you have had sex?”

Duke snorted. “Sorry, Wing. Haven’t been a virgin for a while.”

Mallory shook her head. “Not since my first year in military school.”

“Uh, no,” Tanya simply stated, twirling a silver ring about her third finger. “I’m not.”

Grin placed a hand on Nosedive’s shoulder, almost causing the younger drake to jump. “I am sorry, little friend, but I, too, am tainted.”

Nosedive groaned and buried his face in his brother’s shoulder. “Wonderful. I’m going to go out a victim of Casper,” his muffled voice sounded.

“Wait. What about you, Canard?” Mallory prompted.

Though Canard opened his beak, Nosedive answered for him, “Paige Frost.”

Canard grinned, though Wildwing replied, “Riley Featherstone, but good guess.”

“It still doesn’t change anything,” Nosedive fumed, spreading his arms wide. “You know, I bet this is all Wayne Gretzky’s doing.”

“How you do figure that, kid?” Duke inquired, smirking.

“I’m supposed to break his record of ninety-one goals in one season and against his team! I bet he set this up somehow. Shorted out the windshield wipers and then set up this whole Haunted Mansion thing!”

“Come on, Dive,” Wildwing scolded lightly, ruffling his brother’s hair. “It’s going to be fine. Just relax, all right?”

“Relax?” Nosedive scoffed. His voice suddenly became high-pitched. “Sure, you can relax! You’ve had sex! You’re not going to be tortured in a blood ritual by Freddy or Jason…or whichever one won that movie…”

“You let him see that one, too?” Tanya scolded.

Wildwing grabbed Nosedive sternly by both shoulders and ducked his head to look into his brother’s eyes. “Hey, come on. You’re with me, all right? You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Nosedive looked away, not wanting to meet his brother’s eyes. He was scared. Wall aside, there was something weird about this house, and he didn’t want to show Wildwing just how frightened his way. At least in the dark, no one could really see his eyes, but this up close…

Wildwing must have known what he was doing. “Look at me, baby bro.”
Nosedive closed his eyes and refused to.

Giving his brother one good shake, Wildwing directed firmly, “Nosedive.”

Shit.

Looking directly at his brother, he wore a strained and grim expression, while his shoulders instantly slumped. Still, Wildwing sent him a reassuring smile. “Hey, stop that. I’m serious, kiddo. Just trust me. You do, don’t you?”

Nosedive rolled his eyes. “You know the answer to that, but how can you stop Leatherface?”

“Hey, chainsaws don’t scare me. Now, if we were talking pitch forks, it might be a different case.” Smirking when Nosedive snorted, he stood and ushered the teen close to him once more. “Now, let’s be rational. I bet there is no ghoul. It’s probably some old, cranky guy who just wants to scare us.”

A creak sounded behind them, and the lights flashed on. Temporarily blinded, Nosedive felt a hand grip his shoulder. Gasping, he struggled frantically, trying to pull away, but the grip just tightened and was unremitting.

It’s got me!

“WILDWING!”

“Nosedive!” his brother admonished, and the teen opened his eyes. Wildwing had pushed him behind his body and still held a hard hand on his shoulder. Duke had pulled his sword, while Mallory took out her launcher. Tanya armed her omnitool, and Grin simply glowered. He needed no weapon. Wildwing squeezed Nosedive’s shoulder as his eyebrow furled at the sight of their ghost. An elderly man wearing an old gas station attendant suit with a blue hat stood in the doorway. His white beard fell to just about his stomach, while his whiskers twirled outward like Santa Claus’s, his voice gruff from age.

“What are you doing in my house?” he demanded.

“Your house?” Mallory asked incredulously. “We thought it was abandoned.”

The man huffed angrily. “Hey, I don’t go around breaking into your house and dissing it.” He crossed his hand over his chest and griped, “Another batch of all youse kiddies coming in here and playing out your gothic fantasies!”

“Our car broke down,” Tanya informed, lowering her weapon. “We didn’t think anyone would mind—”

“Well, I mind! This is my house. Now leave before I call the coppers!”

Wildwing, still holding his brother’s shoulder, tensed. “Wait. So you put the message on the wall to scare us out of here? That’s low, Mister…”

“Jenkins, and I wrote no message on my wall.”

The ducks turned, and truth be told, the blood was gone. In its place was an older photograph of a husband and wife from some time ago. It seemed to have been there for awhile, dust feathering its tops, while the paper underneath was tinged yellow.

“Darned kids say the same thing all the time,” Jenkins complained.

The ducks traded bewildered expressions, but one thing was for sure—the message had been there…hadn’t it?

“I—I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Mr. Jenkins,” Wildwing stammered, as he ushered his brother toward the hallway. “We’ll get out of your way.”

Wildwing allowed the rest of the team go first, as he held protectively onto Nosedive. Something still irked him, and he wasn’t sure what it was. As he headed toward the exit, a shielding arm about his brother’s shoulders, he felt a cold wave of air brush against his hand holding Nosedive. He suddenly felt the need to put himself in between his brother and whatever was behind them. When Nosedive looked up uneasily, he simply leaned down and nuzzled the boy’s cheek from behind. They reached the door, and Wildwing took it from Grin, reaching around Nosedive. Then, swiftly, he pushed his brother out into the pouring rain.

“Go to the car! I’ll meet you there!”

Nosedive sputtered to retort, but Wildwing slammed the door shut instantly. He turned.

And he saw her.

A lithe female, no older than his brother, stood behind him a few feet away. Her long blonde hair curled behind her back and up into a ponytail, while her ice cold eyes shone with no feeling. She wore an ethereal white gown, though a few drops of blood seemed to stain her dress by her fallen left hand. He noticed with a disgusted wave of nausea the substance covered her fingers but was dried and caked. He gasped, realizing suddenly that he could see through her.

“I—I’m sorry,” he broached, his voice harsh and sympathetic at the same time, “but we—I—don’t want to let him go.”

To his surprise, her pale pink lips edged into a small smile, and she beckoned something to her side. From down the hallway, a little girl, at least half the ghost’s age, ran toward her and bounced into her arms. Unlike when people first saw he and Nosedive, he could instantly tell they were siblings.

The ghost nodded once, letting Wildwing know she understood and even to some extent was sorry. Smiling in return, he let out of a shivering breath, then turned. Opening the door, he blinked at the sight of Nosedive, drenched, arms crossed, staring up at him from under his sodden bangs.

“What the heck, Wing? Didn’t you hear Tanya say to go to the bathroom before we left?” He shuddered from the cold air against his soaked body.

An instant smile formed upon Wildwing’s beak, and he didn’t think. Reacting on instinct, he dove at his brother. Before Nosedive could flee, Wildwing buried his shoulder in Nosedive’s gut and lifted his little brother effortlessly onto his shoulder. He wrapped his arms about the teen’s legs, content to feel his warmth—or at least his wetness now. He suddenly felt blessed to have his brother in his life and knew just how close he was losing Nosedive—during fights with Dragaunus and in everyday life. They lived dangerous lives, but he didn’t want to think of that now. For the moment, all he wanted to do was hold his brother—and tease him a little.

“WING!” Nosedive griped, poking his brother in the back as he lay. “Come on! Put me down!”

Wildwing grinned. “Nope.”

“I can walk by myself, you know.”

“Oh, well. Deal with it.”

“But—”

“No.”

“But—”

Wildwing, stopped, resituated his grip on his brother, and bounced him slightly on his shoulder. “You’re not getting down until we get to the Migrator, so you might as well just shut up.”

And Nosedive went limp. His resistance was futile. Once Wildwing made up his mind, there was no changing it—not that he really wanted to.