Hello there! I was bored, so I decided to write this. Don't worry, I'm not stopping my other story, Mission Hogwarts, but I felt like writing something fun. Basically, this story involves our favorite hunters becoming Desmond's newest form of entertainment. Cast into several different worlds and times, how will our beloved vampires react? The chapters will be in Darren's point of view, unless someone requests otherwise. Leave any request for p.o.v's or worlds in the comments, or pm me!

Warning: May contain grammatical errors!

Chapter One

"The World of Twilight"

"OOPH!" I yelled, falling, onto something that felt like granite and smelled like hair gel.

The… person under me groaned and tried to get up. They didn't get very far, because a very smelly vampire had just fallen on top of me. It wasn't long before a red cape and a scowl was added to the pile. My breath huffed out from the weight of the two men.

"Vancha…" I said quietly.

"Yes, Darren?" he replied, trying to sound innocent.

"GET OFF!" I yelled, shoving the smelly man.

He jumped off of me, throwing a dazed Mr. Crepsley onto the floor. I stood up, groaning as my bones creaked. Ugh… I'd have to burn my clothes to get Vancha's smell out of them. The figure that I had fallen on stood to his feet and glared at me. I ignored his look and glanced around the room. White, white, and oh look! More white. Whoever owned this house obviously had bad color coordination skills. I looked to the guy that I had fallen on. He had reddish-brown hair; which was currently lying flat as if it had been smashed. He fluffed it up when he saw me looking at it. I don't know how he manage to make it stand again; he had to have a least half a bottle of hair gel in his hair.

"What are you doing in my house!" he asked, still upset about his hair.

"Just enjoying the view," I said sarcastically.

We had fallen out of thin air for Ba' Halens' sake! Was this guy used to people appearing out of nowhere?

"Well, enjoy the view somewhere else. Get out of my house," he said rudely.

"First," I replied. "Tell me where we are."

"Forks, Washington," he replied sourly.

"Washington? As in America?" Vancha chimed in.

"Where did you think we were?" he asked, wrinkling his nose at Vancha. "And what on earth are you?"

"I'm a v–" he began.

"A very smell man," I said, giving him a pointed look.

"I resent that!" Vancha said sulkily. "I had a bath almost two weeks ago!"

Mr. Crepsley seemed to have found his bearings and asked the man, "What are you supposed to be?"

"I'm… uh… ah… A hairstylist! Yeah, a hairstylist."

"Right…" I said skeptically. "A hairstylist made out of granite.

"What do you mean? Made out of granite?" Mr. Crepsley inquired. "I was simply referring to his question. If he thought we were not human, he must not be either."

"Well… I'm not made out of stone," he said nervously. "If you must know, I am a vampire. I can usually read minds, but I can't even sense your mind. So what are you?"

"That is impossible. There is no way that you are a vampire," Mr. Crepsley said, dusting off his robes.

"Do you want a demonstration?" He asked, pulling his lips back from his teeth.

He must have thought that he was pretty scary, because he made a ridiculous growling noise at us. Vancha laughed at the boy's antics.

"Is that supposed to be threatening?" he asked. "This is how a scary vampire should look."

He grimaced, showing his jagged yellow teeth and let his voice slip into a deep growl.

He raised his blade like nails and said in a mock Dracula accent, "I vant to suck jour vlood!" he said

We all laughed, except for the sulking 'vampire'. He whipped out his phone and updated his Twitter rapidly.

{Erhmahgahd. These guys just like fell from the sky and told me that I'm like, not a good vampire )=


"Well, at least I don't have green hair!" the 'vampire' said, fluffing up his hair to an impossible height.

"I'd rather have green hair than be a prissy, lame excuse for a vampire!" Vancha retorted.

"Alright ladies," I said, stepping between them. "Break it up. You're both pretty."

"Yes," said Mr. Crepsley, touching his own brightly dyed hair. "It would not be wise to start a fight with the one person who can help us."

The boy beamed proudly, while Vancha sulked. He was upset that Mr. Crepsley didn't take his side.

"Now," he continued. "Boy, what is your name?"

"I am not a boy," the… not boy said, looking insulted. "I am over a hundred years old. But my name is Edward Cullen."

"Big deal," Vancha busted out. "I'm over three hundred years old."

I rolled my eyes and said, "I am Darren Shan, vampire prince. The stuffy bat is Larten Crepsley, former vampire general. And the idiot in the animal skins is Vancha March. He's a prince too."

"Princes? Generals?" Edward said confused. "I better call Carlisle."

"What kind of name is Carlisle?" I said dumbfounded

Mr. Crepsley flicked me in the ear and gave me a warning glare. I walked away from him and stood next to Vancha, before deciding I'd rather not smell him.

"CarlisleWhatisavampiregeneral?" Edward said into the phone, talking so fast his words blurred together. "Whatdoyoumeanyoudontknow? *pause* Yes. EmmettJasperAliceRosalie. *anotherpause* No. Esmes gettinghernailsdid . Whatever. Goback tocuttingopendefenslesshumans

..*pause* Idontcareifyou'rehelpingthem! "

He snapped the phone closed and looked at us.

"Carlisle can't come home because he is in the middle of some surgery. My family will be home soon. Sans my mother. My girlfriend is coming over- she's human. If you touch her, I'll rip your heads off. "

"Hmmph," Mr. Crepsley growled. "I would not make threats if I were you. If you are what you say you are, disrespecting a prince is punishable by law."

"There are no such things as Vampire Princes. The Volturi are the only royalty in my world."

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be a long day

This… is… LINEBREAK!

About twenty minutes later, six people walked in. The first was a guy who kept flexing his muscles, even though Mr. Crepsley and Vancha were burlier than him. The second was a blond, who was currently snacking from a kibble-and-bits bag. The third was short –shorter than Harkat even. The fourth was holding a butcher knife, and had his eyelids taped open. The fifth kept biting his shoulder, as if he had fleas. The sixth was toting an apple, a rose, a torn ribbon, and a chess game in her arms. Her breathing was loud and hitched –as if she were terrified.

"Um, hello…" I said to the strange crew.

"HI!" said the short one, running up to me and bobbing up and down like a jackhammer. "MY NAME IS ALICE. CAN I GIVE YOU CLOTHES? WHY CAN'T I SEE YOUR FUTURE?"

"Er… no. And I don't know? Why on earth would you be able to see my future?

She ignored me and attacked Vancha.


"What! No!" said the red skinned prince. "AH! Let go of me!"

We all watched in horror as the small girl dragged Vancha into the nearest bathroom. Screams of torture could be heard coming from the room. I winced and turned back to the crowd.

"Isn't someone going to stop her?" I asked.

"There's no stopping Alice once she's started," the last girl said, rocking back in forth while clutching her items to her chest.

Suddenly, the apple fell out of her arms. It bounced once and rolled across the floor. The guy with the fleas bounded after it.

"OH BOY, FETCH!" he screamed, following the apple out of the door.

The apple rolled into a river that was in the back yard. The boy kept chasing it, unaware of the river's dangerous current. He jumped into the water and was dragged away. We could hear the gurgling as he laughed triumphantly. He had caught the 'ball'.

The girl who owned the apple broke into hysterics.

"NOOO!" she screamed. "NOT THE APPLE!"

She ran after the boy, still clinging to her remaining artifacts, and jumped into the river.

And then…

Both of them drowned.

Edward ran after the girl, screaming "BELLA MY LOVE!"

He drowned too.

The blond ran after Edward, yelling that she wanted him to love her.

She drowned

The burly one followed, trying to save his beloved.

He drowned.

We were left with just the guy with the knife. He proceeded to carve a pumpkin, unfazed by the death of most of his family. A sopping wet Vancha returned, wearing a cocktail dress. His hair had been dyed platinum blond and he was sporting a pair of pumps.

A ticking noise sounded, along with a familiar laugh. A swirling blue portal appeared and we were sucked into it.

Oh no, I thought. Not this again.

Please don't kill me if this sucked. This is my first attempt at a humor-based story.