Exsanguinate (39 page)
Authors: Killion Slade
D
isclaimer
:
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, people, or places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Glossary
F
eck
- Verb
An Irish word that has fallen into similar usage as fuck, made famous by Father Ted. Of Irish origin, feck is what a lady says when she really wants to say fuck.
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=feck
S
hite
-
Noun
The
Irish
/
Scottish
/ equivalent of the word shit. A very British and therefore great way of saying shit. Shite sounds much more effective than shit.
C
yberchondriac
- Noun
Cy·ber·chon·dri·ac sībərˈkändrēak/
A person who compulsively searches the Internet for information on real or imagined symptoms of illness.
Novels
D
ragonriders of Pern
by
Anne McCaffrey
Ballantine Books May 12, 1986
The Island of Dr. Moreau
by
H.G. Wells
Heinemann, Stone & Kimball 1896
T
he Exorcist
by
William Peter Blatty
Harper & Row 1971
I
nterview with a Vampire
by
Anne Rice
Alfred A Knopf 1976
I
T
by
Stephen King
Viking September 15,1986
Movies
S
tar Wars
: Episode IV – A New Hope
(1977)
Lucasfilm (as a Lucasfilm Limited Production)
Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
F
atal Attraction (1987
)
Paramount Pictures
F
inal Destination (2000
)
New Line Cinema
P
sycho
(1960)
Alfred Hitchcock
Shamley Productions Paramount Pictures
F
renzy
(1972)
Alfred Hitchcock
Universal Pictures
L
ifeforce
(1985)
Golan-Globus Productions
The Cannon Group
TriStar Pictures
S
ilence
of the Lambs (1991)
Strong Heart/Demme Production
Orion Pictures Corporation
J
urassic Park (1993
)
Universal Pictures
Amblin Entertainment
U
nderworld
(2003)
Lakeshore Entertainment
Screen Gems
A
lien
(1979)
Brandywine Productions
Twentieth Century-Fox Productions
W
hen A Stranger
Calls (2006)
Screen Gems
Columbia Pictures
M
y Fair Lady
(1964)
Warner Bros
Y
ou’ve
Got Mail (1998)
Warner Bros.
Television
T
he Six Million
Dollar Man (1973)
Universal TV
W
orld’s Dumbest Criminals
Meetinghouse Productions
truTV
Artists
E
dward
Munch
The Scream (1893)
S
teve Hanks (Contemporary
)
Greenwich Workshop
D
iego Velázquez
Venus at Her Mirror (1647)
Music
C
elebration
by
Kool
and the Gang
(1980)
Album: Celebrate!
Label: Mercury
C
an’t Get Enough
of Your Love, Babe
by
Barry White
(1974)
Album: Can’t Get Enough
Label: 20th Century Records
D
anger Zone
by
Kenny Loggins
(1986)
Album: Top Gun Soundtrack
Label: Columbia Records
B
orn
to be Wild
by
Steppenwolf
(1968)
Album: Steppenwolf
Label: Dunhill RCA
D
irty Diana
by
Michael Jackson
(1988)
Album: Bad
Label: Epic
I
n Your Eyes
by
Peter Gabriel
(1986)
Album: So
Label: Geffen Records
B
itch is Back
by
Elton John
(1974)
Album: Caribou
Label: MCA, DJM, Rocket/Phonogram
C
rocodile Rock
by
Elton John
(1972)
Album: Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only the Piano Player
Label: MCA
F
riends
in Low Places
by
Garth Brooks
(1990)
Album: No Fences
Label: Capitol Nashville
Restaurants
L
arry’s Deli
& Sandwich Shop
Land O’ Lakes, Florida
*For the BEST Cuban Sandwiches – EVER!
C
opyright © December 9
, 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, reproduced, or distributed in any form, print, or electronically, without the express, written consent of the author, with the exception of brief excerpts used in reviews and news articles.
Killion Slade
K
illion Slade is an award-winning
, Amazon bestselling speculative fiction author. As a loyal reader of dystopian urban fantasy herself, the apocalyptic genres drew her to become a homesteader, ensuring her family could survive if a world-wide crisis ever occurred and washing machines disappeared.
When not writing, she can be found raising chickens, geocaching, making soap, growing things with aquaponics, or becoming a crack shot with her 9mm and crossbow.
(Seriously, no apocalypse is taking this woman down.)
Killion's novels include Exsanguinate (2013) and the upcoming release, Obfuscate (Spring 2016). Her short stories can be found in Sirens Call; The Danse Macabre; Cynic Magazine; Bewildering Stories; Midwest Literary Magazine; and in the anthologies Bite from the Heart; Death Sparkles; and Roms, Bombs, and Zoms
Where Scary Can Be Horrifyingly Funny
Pinterest
http://pinterest.com/killionslade
P
rologue
I
failed
. I should be dead.
The schism of words replayed again and again as though they were a needle stuck between a track and a scratch on an old vinyl record.
I tried to open my eyes and sit up in the bed but found my head was wrapped and I’d been tied down.
What the hell? Where am I? Have I been captured?
I leaned my head closer to my hands and pulled on the strips of cloth covering my face. Rewarded with searing pain, I jerked my head away, sucking in a breath. Immediate and intense, the sensation behind my eyes was the same torment from a jammed toe against the bed frame in the middle of the night. Agonizingly slow to dissipate.
My eyes! Did they take my eyes?
I wrestled against my bonds and kicked my feet hoping to find some sort of escape. Something fell, clanging to the floor. It sounded as though a hundred steel marbles scattered, bouncing in every direction. My runaway imagination insisted the calamity had to be a bloodied tray full of shiny, sharp implements.
I can’t see … how can I get out of here? Breathe, Cheyenne, think.
I leaned over again and bit the thick, padded belts holding my wrists.
Blood pooled in my mouth as my lower lip snagged on a buckle. I spat out the blood and felt along the length of my mouth with my fingertips. Hard, plastic stitches lined my lip as if I were a forgotten rag doll in a creepy carnie show. Were they trying to sew my mouth shut?
Unholy hell, what are they doing to me?
I knew it—it was a trap. I should’ve listened to my guts. Cannibal vampires. We weren’t prepared. What if I’m an ingredient in their recipe? Are they preparing to stuff me with crab and then roast me over a fiery spit?
Shouldn’t a vampire be able to escape? Am I trapped in silver?
Questions seared my mind as I made headway pulling the strap with my teeth through the loops.
Everything will go as planned
, they said.
Nothing will hurt us
, they said.
Drunk with fermented drinks,
they said.
Why did I listen to them?
Khaldon and Harris—they were burning under the water. Did they make it out alive?
What about Briggs? He was unconscious. Did he drown?
The sharks were everywhere.
Where’s Torchy? Did he send for help?
Ludovic? Did he—
Footsteps closed in with the acrid stench of disinfectant. A female, disembodied voice threatened. “
Kuthri,
look at this mess. You’re making this much too difficult. Hold still.”
“Hold Still? Are you kidding me?” I jerked my arms inside their confinement. “Wait—who are you? Where am I? What are you doing to me?”
“You’re in isolation.” Her words snapped with disdain.
“Don’t touch me! Why are you tying me down? Stop it!” I pulled harder on the bonds, and the metal bars of the bed groaned and began to give way.
The female voice ignored my question. “Quick, hold her. This won’t take but a second.”
“Did you dispense the stronger dosage this time?” an agitated male voice hurriedly asked. “She burned through the last one in record time.”
Another male voice came from the direction of my feet. “Make sure this one keeps her down for good. We still have fleshy, meaty spots to dig out closer to the bone. I’m not getting another black eye tonight.”
For good? Meaty spots? Closer to the bone?
“Get away! Help!” I kicked while rough, wide fingers and hands wrenched my face sideways, exposing my neck. “Khaldon!”
I thrashed my head around and bit the hand holding my face.
“
Kamina!
” the male voice exclaimed and wrenched his hand out from between my teeth, practically yanking my fangs out with it.
Another set of hands held down my legs while an elbow jabbed me in the head. A sharp stab to my neck flashed fire behind my eyes in a kaleidoscope of intense luminescence.
I cried out in pain, arching my back in defiance.
My limbs grew heavy as Aunt Maisie’s cast iron skillets.
“No … stop … please don’t … eat … me…”
Far away, the female voice flatly stated, “She’s done. Let’s get her prepped for Rattanakosin.”
There’s something … it’s right at the tip of my…
I failed. I should be dead.
The words replayed again and again in the fissure of my memory.
Dakota, my sister?
Oh, no!
Oh, yes … I should, most definitely, be dead.