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[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.14]

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Ugh. Jacques Villareal was foiled.

His plans to recruit the vampire king Count Vlad to take care of his three small... problems... had failed miserably on account that the vampire king was no longer a vampire.

“Well, as illuminating as this was, I should get going–” Jacques said, suddenly quite aggravated. He tried to stand up to leave, but Vlad interrupted him.

“Don’t you want to know who slew me?”

Jacques sighed. “Let me guess, your ex-lover?”

“Actually, no! It was my ex-lover’s new boy toy.”

“But gosh, being mortal has been like turning over a new leaf. I’ve been reconsidering all my life choices.”

“I got to taste chocolate cake again for the first time in 200 years! Isn’t that something?”

“Do you know what being alive for too long does to you? It makes you shriveled and wrinkly and pale and crazy.”

Jacques, who was shriveled, wrinkly, pale, and crazy, sniffed loudly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, deciding he’d had enough. He got up to leave.

Vlad got up to follow.

“Hey, your wife is dead, right?” shouted Vlad behind him.

Jacques decided not to answer.

Vlad continued, “Sooo, we’re both old and single, wouldn’t we be perfect together?”

“You should come over and bake a chocolate cake with me sometime! It gets so lonely in this big house.”

Jacques walked straight out the front door, not looking back.

“Oh, you’re leaving? Well, I look forward to seeing you again when we hash out the details of the installment plan–“

“–I’ll send you the bill in the mail,” Jacques interrupted.

He did not slow down until he heard the front door close behind him.

Well, fiddlesticks, indeed.

The world’s evilest vampire was no longer a vampire and thus utterly useless to Jacques. He’d have to accomplish his wicked deed himself.

But he’d already decided – he was going to succeed or go crazy trying. Well, crazier.

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[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.13]

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They were sitting in the vampire's musty and antiquated den.

Something crawled over Jacques' leg and he chose not to look down and see what it was.

Instead, he cleared his throat.

It was time to make his big pitch.

“Vlad,” he said. “Buddy. Vladdy. Can I call you Vladdy?”

Vlad said nothing.

“You have such a lovely home. Wonderfully decorated,” he continued. “I mean, just take a look at this piece in the glass jar. It’s gorgeous. It’s beautiful. It’s a breathtaking work of art. It’s, what is it?”

“The skull of the last Cu Cu Cachoo,” Vlad replied, as if it was helpful.

“The last Cu Cu Cachoo, re-mark-able,” said Jacques. He was pretty sure he’d seen an identical one at the flea market.

“Now, I just have a few questions about your home to see if you would benefit from our insurance program. First, do you have any enemies who might want to destroy your house?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” admitted Vlad. “Many vampires hate my guts, such as my ex-lover.”

“Great. Now, have you ever worried about people stealing your belongings?”

Vlad shot a look above the fireplace, where there was a large empty spot on the wall surrounded by many small paintings.

“Now that you mention it, I did have a priceless portrait of mine stolen by my ex-lover. I never did get it back…”

“I see,” said Jacques. “Lastly, have you ever had your possessions damaged by bloodstains from purely incidental deaths on your property?”

“You know, all my carpets used to be white.”

This was it, Jacques. Time to bring it home.

“Now, what if I told you I can get you a home insurance policy that would cover all those incidents, recouping future losses, plus emotional damages? Let me help you protect your belongings from the wrath of your ex-lover.”

Oh, Jacques was crushing it.

“That sounds fantastic!” Vlad exclaimed.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“How many gold bars for this policy of yours?”

“You know, Vladdy,” said Jacques. “I got a good feeling about you, so I’ll waive payment for a small favor. You see, I have these three… friends… of mine that need to be turned and left someplace sunny, if you catch my drift.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Vlad. “But I’m afraid I can’t. I’m not a vampire anymore, I was slain last year.”

Hold up.

Count Vladislaus Straud IV, the vampire king, Forgotten Hollow’s original gangster, was no longer a vampire?

Well, fiddlesticks, this ruined everything.

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[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.10]

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“Do you think I’ll have that dream again?” said Max.

Luna made sure Max had brushed his teeth and changed into his PJs, then prepared to tuck him into bed.

“And what dream is that?” she said.

“The one where the pretty lady shows up and makes Dad’s arms bend the wrong way and then his eyeballs pop out,” he answered, crawling into bed.

Oh, Watcher. Luna was horrified.

Max was also having terrifying nightmares? She thought it was just her.

“No, don’t you worry, Max,” she said earnestly. “I’ll tuck you in extra tight tonight and make sure you won’t have that nightmare again.”

She kissed his forehead goodnight.

Max closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, but he was secretly frustrated with his sister.

Who said anything about a nightmare? He was hoping to have that dream again. Luna didn’t understand anything.

Luna turned off the lights and headed to her bedroom.

Her little brother having graphic nightmares like that? That couldn't be normal, right?

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Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it’s not real (movie credit to the phenomenal @feroshgirlsims, seriously you do not know how much I screamed and cried when I first watched this machinima)

[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.11]

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It was concerning that Luna's little brother was having horrifying nightmares, because she also had horrifying nightmares.

Luna didn’t know if was normal for children to have horrifying nightmares. But she also didn’t know who to talk to about it.

She sat down and pulled out her phone.

Hey I have a random question, she texted her mystery knight.

Shoot, princess, they answered.

Do you ever have… She paused. How honest should she be? She didn’t want to come off as weird.

…disturbing dreams? Like, about your parents? she finally wrote.

Sure, they answered. Sometimes I dream that my dad comes home, and it feels like so real in the dream, you know, even though it’s been like six years, but then I wake up, and it just… feels weird

Weird how, she wrote.

Idk, I mean, HE was the one who left, why would he come back? Anyways, I turned out fine, but my older brother didn’t. Dad walking out made him soft. But me, personally, I never needed him anyways. I don’t miss him at all

But you still dream about him, she pointed out.

There was a pause in their typing.

Guess so, they answered.

There was another pause. Then, the three dots starting blinking as they typed.

Ugh, idk, that whole thing was kinda dumb, sorry, they wrote.

No, it’s not dumb, she replied. I dream about Mom all the time, sort of

What do you mean

Luna sighed, then wrote, I have this recurring dream where I’m her, and I’m trapped in a burning building, and I can see myself and the rest of my family but they’re just standing there, watching me and not doing anything

That sounds terrifying and awful, they answered.

She suddenly realized something. I never told anyone that before

Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, princess ❤

And Luna found herself inexplicably crying again,

-only snapping out of it when her phone buzzed again.

Hey princess?

Yeah? she answered.

The three dots appeared, blinking for a long time.

They disappeared. She waited.

They appeared, then disappeared again.

They reappeared and suddenly her phone buzzed.

Good night, princess ❤, said the text. It was a long wait for such a short text.

She gave a sad smile. Good night ❤, she answered.

────────✦───────

Luna crawled into bed, and all was quiet in the Villareal house.

Even Jacques eventually tired himself out yelling at the sky and went to bed.

He especially needed his beauty rest, because tomorrow he had an important meeting with a powerful client, one who could help him with his problem.

His three problems, that is.

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[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.6]

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It was a Very Normal Night in the Villareal household, except that Luna was still refusing to talk to her brother Hugo.

But at least they were back to working together silently on their homework.

They were quietly filling out their workbooks, when Luna felt someone shuffle up behind her.

“Is that you, Dad?” she said, but he didn’t respond.

Jacques stared around at nothing, wild-eyed.

He suddenly gasped.

“Do not disturb me,” he growled.

“What?”

“Do not,” he repeated.

Luna turned around, bewildered.

“Dad, we’re literally just sitting here quietly, doing our homework. How are we dis–“

“Do NOT disturb me!” he yelled again into the distance, as though he were looking straight through Luna.

He suddenly reached out a hand,

and grasped at something in the air, even though there was nothing in front of him.

Before Luna could react, there was a pattering of feet as he turned and ran away.

“That was… weird.” Even Luna had to admit something was more off than usual.

“Are you ready to talk to me again?” said Hugo.

Luna sighed. “Ugh, I dunno. Maybe.”

She looked back down at her homework right when the door creaked open and someone walked in calmly.

“Offspring!” announced Jacques jovially. “I have planned our next Family Fun Day.”

If Jacques had been acting erratically before, there was no sign of it now. He spoke with the utmost calm and composure.

“We will go on a hike, in a blizzard. I’ve heard it builds character.”

Hugo looked up incredulously from his work.

“Dad, we can’t go hiking in a blizzard if the forecast is warm and sunny every day. We don’t have Seasons.”

“Fine! I’m going outside!” he roared. “I can’t get anything done with the four of you disturbing me!”

Hugo was pretty sure there were only two people sitting at the dining table.

And even though it was 9PM at night, Jacques stormed out of the house.

Once Luna heard the front door slam shut, she leaned in towards her brother. “Hugo, I think you were right about Dad. He’s losing it.”

Finally, finally, his sister was listening to him. He'd been saying that for weeks.

“Ok, so what do you think we should do?” he said. “Should we go to the police–“

“–and risk them discovering what we’ve done?” Luna interjected. “You know they’d only arrest us. Then who’d take care of Max?”

She sighed. “I think the best thing we can do is try to avoid Dad and his Family Fun Days, at least until his mood swings blow over.”

Hugo fell silent. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

“Speaking of Max, I need to put him to bed. Where do you think he runs off to, anyways…?”

Good question, where was Max at 9PM on a school night?

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[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.8]

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It was a glorious morning as the ghost of Lord Bernard poured himself a cup of joe.

He drifted outside to take a sip, basking in the sunshine, listening to the birds chirp, when he spotted something dark in his periphery. It looked like something was written on the walls of the Von Haunt Estate building.

He drifted down the steps to get a better view.

There were letters written on the front of the Von Haunt Estate, all right - some kind of graffiti.

He narrowed his eyes, reading them aloud.

“B-E-R-N-A-R-D I-S A F-O-P-D-O-O-D-L-E"

While the graffiti only took about 30 minutes to wash off, the Von Haunt Estate unfortunately had to shut down for the entire day, as multiple complaints were lodged from families startled by the uncontrollable yelling and cussing of a certain splenetic ghost roaming the estate.

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[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.7]

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It was 9PM on a school night and Max was running somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.

“Stop,” he commanded. The Renegades came to a halt, and Max inched ahead to poke his head around the corner.

Around the bushes stood the Von Haunt Estate, which Max and his father were technically banned from.

He glimpsed the ghost of Lord Bernard drift by the entrance and felt a swell of adrenaline. He had missed seeing his sworn enemy.

Max turned back and looked up at the Renegades.

“Here’s the plan,” he said. “You’re going to burn down the Von Haunt Estate.”

"What, burn it down?” Wolfgang suddenly protested. “But this is a cherished tourist destination and I have a lot of happy mem– I mean, some people have a lot of happy memories here. I didn’t agree to burning it.”

The others murmured in agreement.

Coward.

Max narrowed his eyes.

“Fine. Then you’ll slash all of Bernard’s paintings.”

This time, Ulrike hesitated.

“I– I don’t know,” she said in a small voice. “I kinda like Lord Shallot’s paintings…”

Seriously? Who could like that man’s paintings? Only bonkers people.

“All right, then release a swarm of flesh-eating cockroaches.”

The Renegades muttered uncomfortably. None of them wanted to touch flesh-eating cockroaches.

“Bury explosive mines in the gardens for unsuspecting tourists to step on?”

The Renegades grimaced and shifted among themselves.

Max was livid now.

Since when were the Renegades a group of sissies? Did they forget he was their leader? He would show th–

Morgan interrupted his thoughts.

“Look Max, I don’t think the rest of the group is comfortable with these suggestions, so why don’t we stick with our original plan? We’ll still let you pick what we write.”

Max loathed Morgan’s patronizing babysitter-talk. Any monkey with a spray can could graffiti a building.

But tonight, his opinions were outnumbered by these fraidy-cats.

“Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll tell you what to write.”

They asked if he was going to join, but he reminded them that he couldn’t read or write.

While that was true, the real reason he stayed behind was that he didn’t want to get caught. Letting others do the dirty work for him was a trick he’d learned from his dad.

It was just a shame he couldn’t stay to see the look on Bernard’s face when he discovered the graffiti...

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[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [4.12]

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Jacques was visiting one of his most powerful clients, who apparently lived in a tall, sinister building surrounded by gravestones.

Jaques had his share of kooky clients, but this particular one had a reputation as a cruel and bloodthirsty vampire. This could turn out to be his toughest sell yet.

He knocked on the door and it swung open,

and Jacques walked down the ominous hallway with all the smarmy confidence he could muster.

“Count Vladislaus Straud IV, it’s great to finally meet you,” he said slickly.

“I’ve heard many wonderful things about the atrocities you’ve committed. My name is Jacques Villareal, and I’d love to talk to you about your home insurance.”

Vlad inhaled sharply, surveying Jacques in a steely gaze,

and flashed him two thumbs up. “Sounds great!”

He followed Count Vlad through his ornate manor, wondering what vampires generally thought about the home insurance industry.

But instead of taking Jacques straight to the den, Vlad suddenly shuffled towards the dining hall. “Oh, could I offer you a slice of decadent chocolate cake?”

“That’s all right, I’m–“

“My ex-lover and I used to love baking cakes together,” Vlad said unprompted.

“–I’m good,” insisted Jacques.

“Ah, very well,” he said, a little disappointed. “This way, please.”

Jacques was led into a living room with similarly elaborate and creepy furnishings. A pipe organ and various old paintings lined the back wall, and everything smelled vaguely musty.

“All right,” said Jacques, settling down. “Shall we get down to business?”

“Very well, peddle your wares, merchant,” said Vlad. “But I warn you, unless you’re a small child selling scout cookies, I’m not easily swindled.”

Jacques took a deep breath. The vampire king would be a difficult mark. He’d have to pull out all the stops and turn his charm up to 11.

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