All Hallow's Greg | By : Fel5 Category: CSI > General Views: 1454 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: None of these belong to me, wether CSI nor any related characters in this story. No copyright infringment intended, no money made. |
Just a
small interlude and dedication to my author friend Herves Vuin. I hope, you’re
doing well wherever you are, Herves, and hope to hear from you soon.
This is a
funny little Halloween oneshot -yes, I know, a little early, but who cares?
It’s just something to take my mind off before returning to my Hodges fic. So,
kick back, get some hot cocoa with marshmallows and enjoy this creepy lil’
story starring our beloved CSIs.
None of
this belongs to me. If it did, you think I’d still be hauled up in a cellar
room?
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
All Hallow’s Greg
He had
pulled too many a stunt, made too many practical jokes and freaked them out one
too many. So the Vegas Crime lab decided to get back at Greg Sanders for every
single antic he had ever displayed. And what better night to do so than
Halloween?
It was a
rather lazy night, by comparison. Then again, it was barely nine in the
evening; grave shift had only just begun and Greg Sanders was in a particularly
good mood. Not only because there would be little to no say about his flashy
choice of outfit(a lime-green t-shirt with a ‘Kamelot’ print, neon red
sneakers, worn-out blue jeans and orange blazer), but also because he could
jump and scare the hell out of people unpunished.
First
things first, though; whistling Greg sauntered down the lab to Catherine’s
office to check if there were any waiting cases. Knocking, he entered and
greeted,
“Hey, Catherine,
got any- whoa, did your AC go haywire, or what?”
Indeed, the
blonde supervisor’s office was a good ten degrees Celcius colder than the hall;
the only light the eerie, cold, blue-tinted glow from the aisle.
And there,
next to her desk, stood Catherine herself, wearing a blank, impassive
expression and a long-sleeved, shoulderfree lace dress that covered her feet
and pooled on the floor around her.
Greg was
perplexed; he lifted a finger, then smirked.
“Ok, ok, I
get it. The White Lady, right? Nice costume, I must say. Looks great on you.”
Catherine
didn’t answer, but kept staring right through him, unmoving.
Scowling,
Greg walked closer until he was about two steps from his supervisor.
“Catherine?
Hello? You..ok in there?”
No answer,
not the slightest flicker of recognition.
Greg rose
both arms and flailed them about wildly, but to no avail. Huffing, he let his
limbs drop again and stated,
“Y’ know,
if you don’t talk to me, you can’t assign me any cases. If I don’t get assigned
any cases, I can’t do my job properly. If I don’t do my job properly, it’ll
show up on my record and then Ecklie will come down wanting some answers…”
He trailed
off, as Catherine still didn’t react, and eyed her warily.
Was she
even breathing?
A suspicion
rose in his brain and he chuckled,
“Ok, nice
one, nice one, Catherine. Y’ really had me fooled with this mannequin. Real
good, I must admit. Couldn’t have pulled it off any better.”
He bent and
grabbed them hem of the skirt to check as to how the supposed dummy had been secured
to the floor, when he felt something brush the back of his collar-
“How dare
you defile a lady’s virtue?”
Greg almost
got a heart attack when Catherine’s voice thundered through the small room; he
shot up and took a flying leap backwards. Before he could so much as utter a
single word, Catherine rose her right arm and declared,
”Begone, vermin!”
A gust of
wind billowed the various layers of her dress and Greg was pulled backwards and
out the door where he unceremoniously landed on his back.
Incredulous,
he stared at Catherine’s imperious figure as the wind picked up some more and
shut the door closed in his face.
For several
moments, Greg just lay there, awed, then scrambled to his feet and muttered,
”Wow. She’d consider taking that act to the Tangier’s Halloween party; she’d
sure bring down the house.”
Driving his
fingers through his unruly hair, Greg continued on his way through the lab.
Some thirty
minutes later, Greg was more than a little confused; the lab rats were behaving
rather odd.
Well, more
odd than usual, that is.
Henry for
instance, was obviously suffering from a bipolar stroke; he switched from mad
cackling to heart-wrenching sobs mid-sentence.
Perhaps he
was heartbroken, mused Greg, still, that didn’t explain the horns and fake
batwings he had sported.
Mandy on
the other hand had been more catty than usual –in a manner of speaking.
Somehow she
had managed to curl herself up on her stool and was busy purring and licking
her hand, when Greg had entered.
He had
taken one look at the brunette and decided to come back later.
Perhaps
Archie was done with the comparison of the surveillance camerea shot and the
ten years old photo from his robbery case?
“Hey,
Archie, how’s it going? You done with the bank heist case on Fifth?”
“Yes
master.” Greg smiled, pleasently surprised.
“Kewl. So,
got any match?”
“Yes,
master.” This time, the blonde’s smile held just a tint of annoyed smugness.
”Even though it’s nice of you to admit to my superior intellect and stunning
good looks;” Greg whisked his golden strands back with one hand,
“there’s no
need to kiss up to me. I’m not Hodges.”
“Yes
master.”
With an
exasperated groan, Greg sat on the edge of the table Archie used to pile
evidence upon. Resting his forearms on his thighs, Greg sighed,
“Very
funny. Are you gonna keep that line up all night or can I get a decent
conversation here?”
“Yes
master.”
Greg rolled
his eyes heavenwards. Oh joy.
“Yes what?”
“Yes
master.”
“Would you
knock it off? What’s wrong with you? How-who came up with that stupid idea in
the first line?” Archie cocked his head to the side.
“Master.”
“Master
who?”
“Master
master. He tells me what to do.”
Cocking one
brow, Greg crossed his arms.
“And what
exactly did –hm- master tell you?”
“To
fullfill my duties at my upmost best and obey every one of your orders,
master.”
“Great! Can
I now get my results on the bank heist or do I have to wait till Hannukah?”
“Certainly,
master. Here you go.”
Gritting
his teeth, the blonde ripped the page from Archie’s nimble hands and bit,
“Thank you.
Master.”
He didn’t
even wait for the Asian man’s reply but hurried out the A/V lab in a double.
Wendy sat
at her laptop, typing away, a straw clenched between her glossy lips.
”Hya, Wendy, how’s that blood sample I gave ya doing?”
The
brunette fliched at Greg’s voice, coughed and hid the small plastic bag she had
sipped from underneath her desk. Greg frowned.
“No
drinking or eating allowed in the lab, Ms. Simms. You know the drill.”
Wendy
squared her shoulders.
“I have no
idea what you’re talking about.”
“Please, you
got tomato juice dripping from..the corner of..your mouth…”
The
Scandinavian took a closer look; something about this juice was not right.
Familiar, but not right.
It was too
thick, too dark, and the way it collected at the seam of Wendy’s lips…
“Wendy, is
that -blood?”
Brown eyes
widened as slender fingers wiped away the residue from creamy white skin.
“Of course
not. You’re hallucinating.”
“I am not
hallucinating. Wendy, why are you drinking blood-“
“I’m not
drinking blood! Stop claiming things that aren’t true!” screamed Wendy, brown
eyes full of rage.
Greg took a
step back.
“Hey calm
down, I’m not-“
“Get out,
get out, get out, GET OUT!”
Wendy’s
voice climbed higher and higher, peaking in a shrill screech.
Greg pressed
his hand against his ears, as the cry grew more and more intense…
And the
line of test tubes next to the wall at his right exploded into a thousand tiny
shards.
Golden eyes
went wide as saucers; Greg pressed himself to the door and stared at the raging
Wendy in utter terror.
“Gone!” he
whispered, then ducked out the door.
Damn, he’d
known that PMSing women had strange urges and violent mood swings, but that had
been just downright scary.
‘No wonder
Hodges’ in no hurry to ask her out! I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end
of that attitude either!’ he thought, as he fled to the break room for
some desperately needed coffee.
“Ray! Hey
Raymond, wait up!”
The bulky
doctor started and turned at the voice, a pensive look on his dark features.
“Hey, Greg.
So, getting anywhere with the robbery case?”
The shorter
man mock nodded.
“Yeah, at
least I would if the gang hadn’t decided to go all Scooby-Doo on me. And they
call me immature. Yeah, right.”
Langston
smiled, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes.
”Yes, well, as long as it’s all fun and play, I doubt, anything bad will
happen. Still…I can’t help but be worried…”
Sanders
grimaced.
“Oh, c’me
on, not you too!” he groaned. Raymond smiled apologetically.
“I might be
a man of science, but there is no denying my heritage. I’m part Cheyenne and
part Kreolan. My grandmother was a Voodoo-priestess and my great-grandfather a
medicine man. So, call me superstitious if you will, but..I can feel something
–evil roaming these labs.”
Greg pursed
his lips.
”That’s impossible, Ecklie’s off for the weekend.”
Both men
grinned, then Langston searched in his jacket pocket for something and finally
produced a tiny, odd-looking puppet that looked suspiciously like-
“A
Voodoo-doll? You gotta be kidding me!” exclaimed Greg.
Langston
shrugged.
“Not
really, it’s more of a- protective guardian. To fend of any evil spell directed
towards you.” He handed it over to Greg. The shorter man just gave him a level
gaze. Again, the doctor smiled, this time reassuringly.
“Go ahead,
take it. Consider it..a lucky charm, if nothing else. Kind of a rabbit’s paw.”
Reluctantly,
Greg pocketed the tiny figurine, mumbling,
“Yeah,
well, y’ know what the say about the rabbit’s paw, right?”
Raymond
grinned.
“That it
couldn’t have been too lucky, or else its foot wouldn’t be dangling from my
keychain”, they chorused.
Greg
nodded, then sighed.
“Yeah,
well, thanks, anyway. Even if I don’t believe in such things..thanks for
showing that you care.”
“Hey, what
are friends there for, right?”
“Right.” Greg
flashed the dotor a warm smile, then waved good-bye and walked towards Nick’s
office.
Langston
watched him leave, then sighed heavily.
“Good luck,
young one.”
A
breakthrough in a running case was always good news.
Little
wonder Greg practically bounced into Nick’s office, waving the file exitedly.
“Game, set
and match! We got him, Nick! Call Brass to have him-“
“Yeah,
right, go tell it to Catherine”, growled the dark-haired man who stood with his
back to the door.
Blonde
brows shot up.
“Sheesh,
what’s with the attidtude, dude? I just came to say that we can book the
suspect on the bank heist and you-“
“Sorry,
Greg, guess, this –this..skin condtion I got makes me kinda cranky.”
“I’ll say.
What skin condition?” Nick tilted his head back, and Greg frowned. Had the
brunette let his hair grow out?
“Listen,
jus’ leave the file here and I’ll get back to you once I don’t feel like I’m
going crazy with this itching.”
“Yes, well,
I heard that permethrine and benzol benzoate based medication is quite helpful
against scabies-“ Nick swerved and bellowed,
“Does
this look like scabies to you? Does it?”
Greg’s eyes
popped out of their sockets as his mouth dropped open.
Nick’s once
handsome face was almost entrely covered with shaggy, dark-brown hair, his
strong jaw and upper lip hiddeously deformed.
“Damn,
Nick, did your werewolf mask explode, or something?” hushed Greg stunned.
A low, deep
growl erupted from the stocky Texan’s chest and Greg decided that safe was
better than sorry, as he fled the room.
If there
had been an ‘accident’ with the mask glue, Nick would be sporting that look for
another couple of days –along with the mood.
And Greg
wasn’t ready to take the blame for something he had no doing with.
The morgue
was eerily quiet; yet, there was a soft whisper echoing through the abandonded
corridors.
A single
body lay on a stretcher next to the half opened door of the scrub room, and
Greg mentally gave a quick prayer for the poor soul that had lost their life
for whatever reason.
He knocked,
popped his head in and softly called,
“Hello? Doc?
Dave? Anybody in?”
No reply;
still, Greg could hear low murmuring. Stepping in, he gazed around and was met
by the rather strange sight of a surgical curtain seperating one of the autopsy
tables from the rest of the morgue.
Curious,
Greg closed the distance, once more calling out for the mortician and his
assistant.
Immediately,
the voices died down, there was a hurried rustling, as the curtain moved and
billowed, then Doc Robbins peeked through the folds, more than slightly unsettled.
“Greg!
Hello! I-I didn’t expect you –so soon.” ‘Or at all’ said his expression. The
Scandinavian grinned, sauntering closer.
“Yeah,
well, it’s a slow night, so I decided to stop by for a visit.”
Doc Robbins
scowled.
“That’s
nice of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy.”
“With
what?” queried Greg, trying to steel a peek over the doctor’s shoulder.
”That is none of your business. Now, please, leave me to my work; unlike you, I
am a very busy man!” rumbled the white-haired man, as he pulled the curtain
even tighter. Greg gave his most brilliant smile and best puppy doog look when
he begged,
“Oh, c’me
on, y’ can’t leave me hanging like this; I mean, I’m your best student?”
“That would
be Dr. Langston, and no, you can’t –hey-hey-what’re you-get out of here!”
shouted Robbins furiously, as Greg elegantly side-stepped him, ducked under the
curtain and lay eyes on the secret behind it.
All blood
drained from his face at the sight that met him.
“Oh my God,
that-that’s-“
Lightning
flashed through his brain -and then there was nothing more than darkness
surrounding him.
“-to use
the tazer!”
“Yeah, but
the tranquilizer would have interfered with the electrodes and you said you
wanted him as crisp as possible.”
“Crisp, not
crispy!”
Greg
blinked his eyes open groggily, trying to force his maladjusted vision to his
surroundings.
One by one,
his senses came back..and Greg wished, they hadn’t.
Strapped to
an electric chair with two morticians discussing his fate had never been
something he had wished to wake up to.
Well,
perhaps he had, but in his dreams the doctors had been scantily clad
beauties armed with whipped cream cans and chocolate sirop.
Not a
middle-aged Sci-Fi nerd and an elderly surgeon with a Stryker bone saw.
“I am
really very sorry about this, Greg. I wish you had listened to me. Yet, I am
glad to have such a –promising specimen for my research.”
Greg
swallowed past the lump in his throat.
”What research?” he asked.
Doc Robbins
and Dave exchanged a look, then the mortician nodded. Super Dave hurried to a
shelf barely out of Greg’s view, even as Al explained,
“You see,
for several years I have been saving and conservating the brains of people
who’s physical injuries were too grave to safe them. So instead, I had their
brains removed from their machine-supported bodies and placed in a jar with
nutrition fluid. You know, so that a part of them would always remain with
their relatives. Yet, it occurred to me that, since the cells were, though
disrupted, still fully functional, it might have been possible to…relive them
with just the right amount of electric energy. Naturally, there were
some..fatal errors in the beginning, but, over the years, I have achieved a
quite sufficient level of technology to grant success in over eighty percent of
the cases. Behold, my newest achievement: Mr. Daniel Roberts!”
Dave shoved
a huge jar into Greg’s face.
The blond
blinked, then gagged.
Inside the
clear glass container a brain floated in what appeared to be some kind of oily
solution; fine, almost invisible wires leading from and to tiny electrodes
implanted in the organ. A line of small bulbs in various colours were embedded
in the stainless steel frame protecting the jar.
“Amazing,
isn’t it?” beamed Dave and Doc Robbins added,
“You
haven’t seen the best yet. Mr. Roberts, say hello to Mr. Sanders.”
One green
light flashed, followed by a yellow and yet another green one.
“Nice,
ain’t it? I created an entire morse code of sorts, only in colours. There’s a micro
imbedded in the socket along with a chip, which translates sound into electric
impulses that he brain can discern. The according synapses and lobes activate,
stimulate the responding electrodes, which are connected to the light bulbs.
This way, the supposedly dead person can communicate with their surrounding- on
a very basic level, of course. Neat, huh?”
Greg gaped
from one grinning mortician to the other –and screamed.
Bucking and
twisting, he tried to escaped his prison, just to be held down by Dave, while
Robbins pulled a syringe out of literally nowhere and-
The leather
band around his chest came off, freeing his arms. Greg swung his right fist and
struck Dave clear across the chin, sending the other blond to the floor.
Another
punch and the doctor hunched over, nursing his ribs.
Frantically,
Greg tore and pulled at the remaining straps and was free, before Al had a
chance to catch his breath.
Kicking the
rising Dave in the shin just for good measure, Greg ran for his very life,
vowing to never, ever enter the morgue without a firearm and security guard.
Humming,
the mass spectrometer made its final thirty-eigth-thousand spins to break down
the components of the smear found on the floor of last week’s gang war. Hodges
chanced a look through the microscope, then moved to the printer-
“Hodges! Oh
thank God, I knew you’d be the only sane person in here!” shouted Greg,
as he flung himself at the trace tech, clinging to the startled Hodges and
holding on for dear life.
However,
his relief was short-lived, because Hodges slapped his arms away and barked,
“Unhand me,
you foul peasent!”
The blond
almost broke into tears, when he begged,
“Please,
David, don’t tell me you’re into their damn game too!”
Cocking a
brow, Hodges pulled at the lapels of his labcoat, tore it off ..and stood there
in a elegant black suit with a fitting white dress shirt, black cloak with
blood red fodder and matching black bow tie.
Greg’s face
drooped.
“Oh, great.
Count Dracula, I assume?” Hodges gave an agreeing nod.
Greg had to
admit, it suited the trace tech quite fine; especially since he had his graying
hair brushed all to the front, giving him an air of carefree aloofness. Along
with his natural pale complexion and uncanny sharp blue eyes, he did make quite
the impressive vampire. A smirk revealed pointed, sharp white fangs.
“Precisely.
However, unlike these mere humans entertaining themselves on playing dress-up
and scaring their workmates, I am the only true supernatural being in this
facility. So, in order to..teach them a lesson, I decided to join the fun to
satisfy my own…urges.”
The blond
stuck his tongue into his cheek.
“Yeah,
right, next you’re going to try to convince me you hypnotized the whole lab.”
Hodges gave a small, razorthin smile.
“Again,
your intellect speaks for you. While the rest of the year my powers are
basically sealed off, this one night, when the gates of darkness open, I have
full access to the entire spectre of my abilites.”
Greg made a
goofy face.
“Hodges,
that’s just silly. I don’t know what you’re on, but you really oughta see a
doctor about it. Or a shrink, for that matter.”
A flash of
white, as the trace tech closed the distance between them and purred,
“My dear,
poor, little unfaithful Greg, do you really think that a slightly above average
looking guy such as myself could woo a gorgeously beautiful woman as Wendy
without a little ..persuasion?” Blue eyes trained in on the brunette in the
opposite lab. Greg turned and followed his gaze.
Wendy was
sitting at her computer, sipping from the blood unit he’d seen before. Greg
blanched and shivered, as Hodges’ voice grew low and husky.
“She is
perfect. I have already managed to accustom her to drinking blood. And tonight
I will make her my rightful bride.”
Greg jerked
his head back at the trace tech.
“Wha-what?”
Hodges entered the blond’s personal space, forcing this one backwards against
the wall.
“You-you
serious? You gonna –ask her out?” He stood with his back against the wall,
Hodges a mere step away.
“Not asking
her out, dear Greg. Making her my rightful companion. My Queen of the Night to
rule over you pesky humans.” He stepped away from him, rounded the table,
lazily rearranging some test tubes sitting next to the microscope.
“You don’t
look too good, Greg. Kind of..pale. Are you sure, you’re alright?”
Greg’s hand
flew to his face and he glanced around in search of a mirror…
“Behind
you.”
Greg peeked
over his shoulder; indeed there was the mirroring surface of a draw board
hanging there…
His blood
turned to ice, as he stared at his reflection.
Behind him,
he could see the microscope, the test tubes moving from one holder to the next-
but no Hodges.
Swerving,
he saw the trace tech stand there; tube in his hand, giving him an unpertubed
gaze.
“Vampires
have no reflection. Everybody knows that.”
The tube
was gingerly placed in its hold, then Hodges made his way towards the trembling
blond.
“Now, where
was I? Ah, yes, my wonderful bride. Soon our mating will be conducted. However,
a sacrifice is needed to tie our bond.”
Hodges’ long, slender fingers reached out and
gently stroked Greg’s cheek, wandering down the sinewy, tanned neck.
“And you,
my dear boy, will make for the perfect wedding gift. Once she has drank your
blood, she will be rightfully and undeniably mine, forever.”
He leaned
in to the petrified blond, breathing in his scent; his voice thick and hoarse
with desire.
“Enticing.
So..lively.”
Blue locked
with brown, and Hodges’ smirk grew just a little more smug.
“You can
feel it, don’t you? How your heart races? The sweat on your brow, the cold
shiver down your spine? You’re still resisting my influence, but soon, very
soon, your resolve will break and then-“
Greg let
out a guttural, almost girlish yowl, pushed Hodges away from him and dashed out
the door, almost tripping over his own feet in the process.
He looked
back, seeing Hodges raise both eyebrows, screamed anew and raced down the hall
towards the locker rooms.
“-thought
he was going to take my head off!” chuckled Archie, reclining next to Mandy and
Dave on the couch.
“Yeah, but
I gotta hand it to you, Arch’, the two synced cameras along with the
non-reflective foil was a great trick!” admitted Hodges, giving a small bow to
the A/V tech. The other man returned it, even as Catherine butted in,
“Yes, but
Henry’s idea of coating Greg’s cup with dextromethorphan was ingenious! I mean,
a sugar-based spray-on hallucinogen?” Henry grinned, blushing slightly at the
compliment.
“Nah, it
was rather simple. I mean, Greg’s got a sweet tooth a mile wide, so it wasn’t
that hard to produce an according solution. The only thing that was really
difficult was the correct dosage. Thanks, Doc. And Doc.”
He nodded
to Langston and Robbins, who looked at one another, then shook hands.
“I must admit,
when you first clued me into your little game, I was a tad bit worried”,
admitted Ray, “but truth be told- it was fun.” The others grinned at that.
“Oh, and
let’s not forget about our two leading acts! Wendy, Hodges, that was brilliant!
Especially your blood curdling scream, Ms. Simms”, cheered Mandy.
The other
brunette smiled broadly.
“Yeah, but
the exploding test tubes were a nice touch, too. Thanks again, Archie!” Archie
merely shrugged and beamed proudly.
Nick, who
was still plucking some remaining strands of hair from his cheek, laughed.
“Yah, but
the brain in the jar part was just sick! Whoever came up with that idea? On the
other hand, I don’t even wanna know.” He turned to Catherine, who still wore
her white dress.
“As for
you, White Lady, good timing with the hook, there. I doubted it would work, but
it surely managed to throw Greg out of your office. I might have to remember
that one next time Hodges comes to bug me.”
Everyone
chuckled, even as the trace tech mock laughed.
“Very
funny, Wolfboy. You might want to consider sueing Rogaine for your looks,
though, fuzz-face.”
A
collective snort rang through the break room, then Catherine said,
“Hodges,
you can remove your fake fangs. It’s easier to talk without them. Even if they
look good on you.”
Hodges gave
a puzzled look.
“Fake? I
already removed the fake ones. Here.”
He held out
his hand, a line of commonly shaped plastic dentures resting in his palm.
Catherine
rolled her eyes.
“Very
funny, David. I meant the pointy ones.”
“Oh,
those.”
A dark,
incredibly sinister grin appeared on Hodges’ features, when he purred,
“Who ever
said these were fake?”
Behind him,
the door closed and locked on its own volition, even as all the lights in the
entire lab went out.
And then
the screaming started.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
*giggles
*Sorry, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to turn Hodgey into a vampire
and Cath into the White Lady. Originally Ray was supposed to double as
Frankenstein’s monster, but I decided against it and rather have him play with
dolls.
Hopefully
you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and if you did, don’t
be a stranger and review, thanks!^^
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