Disclaimer: I own very little within. Yellow.

IT'S THE END! (bumbumbummmm)

I bring you what would be the lovely cast of my story:

Pete- himself

Patrick- himself

Joe- himself

Andrew- himself!

The Baron- William Beckett from The Academy Is...

Vulcan- Brendon Urie from Panic! At The Disco

Livington- Ryan Ross from Panic! At The Disco

Sorel- Nicholas Cage

"Fred"/Harold- Gregory Smith (an actor)

As for the story, there will be blood. As for Patrick, stand by. As for Joe and Andrew, stand by. As for Pete, stand the pain. Ah yes, poor Pete. Somebody get him a band-aid! But that's all I'm going to tell you until the story starts.

The Baron knocked the stake out of his torso. His eyes were wild, and he dashed towards Pete. He was too delirious to use his teleportation powers, but he had become incredibly fast nonetheless.

Shocked, Pete stood planted firmly in the middle of the room.

Patrick stood up. "Pete, MOVE!"

His words seemed to awaken Pete, who dodged out of The Baron's path of destruction. The Baron narrowly avoided going straight into the wall. He veered around, and charged again, even faster than before. The Baron slammed with great force into Pete's back, and Pete went flying into the stone fireplace headfirst. He collapsed on the ground and lay motionless.

Strangely enough though, he seemed satisfied enough with just letting Pete lay there and ran over to Patrick. In defense, Patrick raised his crossbow as a shield in front of his face. The Baron swiftly smacked it with the back of his hand, and it snapped in two. Patrick stepped back and took out his netting gun and reached behind him for his Sonic Reverb Cannon. The Baron grabbed the netting gun and tossed it across the room, shattering it into a dozen pieces when it hit the wall. The second Patrick had his Sonic Reverb Cannon out in front of him, The Baron grabbed it and began pulling it apart bit by bit.

"Man, what the HELL?! These are all my weapons you're pulling apart!" Patrick looked very exasperated as he reached in his pockets and pulled out three plain wooden stakes. The Baron flashed in front of Patrick, leaving behind the mangled parts of the Sonic Reverb Cannon. He grabbed the stakes and cracked them all in half at once.

Patrick drew a garlic grenade, and The Baron kicked that, and it exploded on the ceiling. Patrick drew his metal-melting shotgun, and The Baron placed a hand on each of Patrick's shoulders (burning them), and sank his teeth into the shotgun, tearing it out of Patrick's grip. He spat it out, and kicked Patrick in the collarbone, sending him skidding across the room. The Baron was waiting for Patrick when he got there, and Patrick quickly came up on his knees with another garlic grenade. The Baron grabbed that, too, but Patrick was only using it as a distraction while he grabbed another stake. He thrust quickly upward, and to his surprise, he got his intended target. The Baron staggered back, staring in indignation at the two stakes protruding from his chest. Patrick blinked. The Baron wasn't horrified or angry that he had been staked twice. He was insulted.

The Baron slowly looked up at Patrick, and Patrick seriously considered soiling himself. Suddenly, Pete rushed past, charging The Baron. "Why aren't you in hell yet?"

This time, The Baron sidestepped Pete, and as Pete rushed past on his momentum, The Baron grabbed Pete by the back of his head, and drove him face first into the fancy floor. "What's wrong, Peter?" The Baron asked as he slammed Pete into the tiles over and over. His voice was maniacal, warped, and quite angry. "Can't you measure up?" The evil vampire stood up, still dragging Pete by the head. He lifted Pete up, and threw him like a ragdoll. Pete landed awkwardly in a corner, and slowly got to his feet.

"You're the one who can't measure up, Willy." The Baron roared, and charged Pete. Pete charged right back, and drew his last stake. The Baron and Pete converged on each other, and there was a deathly silence after they reached each other. The Baron looked down. He had now been staked thrice, and the new stake had driven the first even deeper. "Third time's the charm," Pete chuckled weakly. Then he began coughing up blood. He looked at his own torso. The Baron's arm had sunken deeply into his gut. Pete couldn't feel his legs, and he was pretty sure The Baron's hand had gone all the way through.

The Baron began to scream in pain as he began to burn. Falling to his knees, he began to disintegrate. Then he was gone, and the gaping hole in Pete's stomach began to bleed heavily. Only The Baron's fedora remained on the ground, and that was stained by Pete's blood.

"Pete? PETE!" Patrick ran over. The first thing he had seen was several of The Baron's fingers protruding from the back of Pete's shirt. Then The Baron was gone, and Pete, bleeding heavily, had collapsed. Patrick lightly shook Pete, who didn't respond.

"C'mon…Pete? Can you hear me? Don't…" Patrick turned Pete on his back. Blood had dripped out around Pete's mouth, and his face had already turned paler than usual. "No…damn!" Patrick bowed his head down low and covered his face with his hands. He was about to let loose and cry, but he was interrupted by a weak voice.

"Patrick, if anyone's going to cry it's going to be me."

Patrick's head shot up. "PETE! Yes! Whoa! Damn! You're alive! Yes!" Patrick put his hand on Pete's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Pete rolled his eyes and shook his head. He reached an unsteady hand and pulled up his shirt, revealing his gaping wound, which had already decreased in size slightly. "It's healing, but slowly. Hey, can you do something for me?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me what that banging noise is." In response, the basement door splintered and came open. The punk officer jumped out and growled. "That proper British ASSHOLE is SO going to get it when I…" She looked around. "Where is he?"

"The Baron?" Patrick asked.

"No, the local priest. YES The Baron, nerd!"

"He's dead."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Who killed him?"

"Me," Pete raised his hand.

"So…" She looked around again and kicked the carpet absentmindedly. "I…won't attack you…NOW, I mean…since you're all, you know, injured and whatever." She began walking out the door.

"Hey, wait!" Patrick called out.

"What?" She sounded annoyed.

"Two things: First, what's your name?"

"Hana. What else?"

"Can I have those brass knuckles thingies?"

She looked down, as if realizing them for the first time. "HELL NO! Look at these! Awesome!" She left and slammed the door behind her.

Patrick looked down at Pete. "Can you walk?"

"Does the Pope shit in the woods?"

"Possibly. But I get your point. I'll call the others." Patrick took out his cell phone, then paused. "Joe's hand is sliced up, and Andrew is concussed. They can't drive."

"Andrew's FINE…people drive concussed all the time…"

"I think you're concussed…"

Pete ignored him and looked up at the ceiling. "Hey, Patrick?"

"Yes?"

"Isn't it really bright in here? I mean, really bright?"

"Nooooo…"

Pete stared at the ceiling pensively. "Then I think I'm going to pass out again."

----------

Pete looked around in the ill-lit room. The stench of blood was almost overpowering. He felt like shouting or at least saying something, but his vocal cords wouldn't let him. A bright light clicked on behind him. Pete whipped his head around to see multiple small figures lying on the bottom of a polished wood stage. He stared in horror as the figures rose slowly on pulled strings; they were small wooden puppets, and all the figures were familiar to Pete. There were The Baron's lieutenants, the punk officer Hana, the teenage clerk, Patrick, Joe, Andrew, and Pete in the center. All the puppets were moving differently. Hana and the clerk hung limply, as if not controlled by anything. The lieutenants seemed to be sort of trying to break free, looking as if the dolls themselves were pulling to break free of the strings. Pete and his friends were dancing absentmindedly. The Joe puppet turned suddenly to Pete, and its wooden lower jaw dropped down. "PETE! Wake up!"

"Huh what?" Pete sat up with a jolt.

"I said, wake up!" Joe was standing over him with his arms crossed, and one arm had bandages over it. "Honestly, I shouldn't have to scream more than once."

Pete looked around. He had been lying on the couch in the den of their warehouse. Andrew came over and plopped down beside him. "We carried you out of The Baron's mansion. You're light when you've lost a third of your blood."

Patrick came over and settled beside Andrew. "Joe, why'd you wake him? Waking him up early was totally unnecessary."

Pete looked at Andrew. "Andrew, why is Patrick talking over me like I'm not here?" He said loudly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Joe sat in the slightly dirty easy chair. "Because he was twitching and stuff."

"Oh! Yeah! I was going to tell you something…" Patrick turned to Pete. "I saw something weird the other day…I was going to tell, but with all that's going on, I haven't gotten a chance."

"And…?" Pete asked.

"A bunch of vampires left town. They said they were bored and the other vampires in this town were too territorial."

"That's good!" Joe said. "The less, the better, right?"

"I agree with you. But I'm not done." Patrick responded. "The same day, a lot more came in. It looked some were vampires and some weren't. I think they were aspiring to be Dandies and I have a feeling that Harold-clerk-guy was one of them."

"And how do you know all this?" Andrew cocked his head to one side.

"Simple. I spied on them."

Pete looked at him, surprised. "Patrick! That's daring and dangerous! And so unlike you!" Pete fake-pushed him, laughing. "Cool!"

Patrick continued. "But there's another thing. The sick part was that some of them were teenagers like Harold and even some of them kids."

"Wait…who's Harold?" Joe asked.

"Remember 'Fred' the clerk from the barbecue restaurant that other day?" Pete said.

"Uhhhhh…oh yeah! The jumpy one!"

"He was a spy for the Dandies."

"Ew. I don't who to trust anymore. And what did you do to him?"

"I staked him like a vampire." Pete responded nonchalantly.

"SO, the bottom line is you can't trust anyone anymore! Not clerks, deliverymen, priests, or even girl scouts!" Patrick stated.

Andrew looked over at Patrick. "We got a visit from a girl scout when you were gone!"

"WHAT? You did?! Why didn't you say so before? We never even had any girl scouts in this town before!" Patrick looked worked up.

"I didn't think it was a big deal!" Andrew said defensively.

"Please say you didn't buy anything…"

"…Um…okay then, I won't say it..."

Patrick dropped his head down on the coffee table and began lightly banging it. "No! Why'd you do that?"

"What's wrong?" Andrew looked confused.

"Let's just say you shouldn't eat the cookies. Let me see them." Patrick raised his head up.

"I'll get them," Pete volunteered. He planted his feet on the ground, pushed himself up, and promptly stumbled forward and onto the floor. Joe walked over and helped Pete back up. Upon standing back up, however, his legs gave out and he stumbled against Joe, who caught him and put him in the chair.

"What the hell?" Pete stared at his legs in shock. He looked over at Patrick, expecting him to explain.

"Don't forget The Baron's hand went through your spine…"

Pete sat back and pouted, crossing his arms. "Well then, what am I supposed to do? Sit here until my spine heals itself? Do you know how long that might take?"

"Longer if you have such a bad attitude."

"Shut up!"

"Look at this!" Andrew interrupted their conversation and held up a miniature black box. "This was in the cookie box. It looks like a camera."

"Or a microphone," Joe suggested.

"You know what I think it looks like?" Pete reached out his hand, signaling Andrew to let him see it. Andrew plopped it in his hand. "Dust!" Pete crushed it in his hand.

"I was going to study that!" Patrick commented.

"How about studying other, more worthwhile things? Like a cure, maybe?"

Patrick looked slightly guilty. "Yeah…I still haven't found any new information on that…"

"Nothing? Not like, a weird reaction or…new element or anything?"

Patrick looked down and shook his head. Pete crossed his arms again and looked around the room.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, Andrew smiled and stood up. "I think we need something…"

Joe closed his eyes. "You better not mean what I think you mean…"

Andrew grabbed Patrick and Joe and yanked them over to Pete. He drew all of them together. "Vampire Hunting Vigilante Group Hug!"

"Not again…" Joe groaned. Patrick just sighed.

Pete tried to wiggle out of Andrew's grip. "BOY, you are SO lucky I can't use my legs right now!"

Let's thank our friend avatarjk137 for the action sequence!

And the results are in! Those of you who wanted a sequel, good for you. You're going to get one! In due time. Those of you didn't, TOUGH! New people...how twisty.

It's been lovely. I'd like to thank my reviewers: ricco-the-penguin, Mood-Apathetic, Thanagarian Angel, Squirt the Daydreamer, Bombalurinasara, greengreendress, angelofdragons, kadaj's-girl91, anyone who might review, anyone I may have forgotten, and anyone who's name I might have spelled wrong. Finally, I'd like to thank Fall Out Boy, for making such a whoop-ass music video that people would write fanfics about it for years to come.