Vampire Dancing (31 page)

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Authors: J. K. Gray

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Vampire Dancing
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She knows she should be getting back to the others as quickly as she can, but decides to take a moment to catch her breath. She checks out her shoulder wound. To her satisfaction, her immune system has already rejected the bullet and knitted flesh.

The aisle in front of her is full of mutilated bodies and discarded weaponry. And to think, all she wanted to do tonight was listen to loud music, dance and perhaps get laid – things she actually managed to achieve, now she comes to think of it.

Just then, the small hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she has an overwhelming urge to look over her shoulder.

She turns.

Standing at the opposite end of the aisle is the disheveled looking woman in the pink top; the one Michael had called Amanda; the one he had claimed 'collapsed'. Judging by the vibe she's getting - and by the looks of those black eyes with the bright yellow elliptical pupils - she's assuming this person –
or whatever it is
- is not the bringer of fun times and happiness.

The Amanda vessel speaks: “My name is Devinniel.”

Its voice is distinctly female, but the tone is menacing.

Getting straight to the point, Amber says: “What do you want?”

A small red and black spider scuttles out of Devinniel's mouth and vanishes behind its neck. Its eyes burn with malignancy. “I want you to die.”

 

*

 

Unicorn men position themselves at either end of an aisle already littered with twisted and broken bodies. They train their weapons on Michael.

“Don't move!” one of them barks.

Michael stands at the midway point of the aisle. He holds a serrated knife in each hand and is covered in blood. Most of it isn't his own. “You know, if I wasn't standing here, you'd all be pointing those guns at each other.”

“Think you're smart, don't you,” one of the men says. He drops his rifle and pulls the knife out of his belt.

The rest of the men follow his example. A few of them, however, bring out electric batons.

Michael grips his knives. His mouth curls into a smile. His left eye turns yellow and its pupil elongates.

Two of the men rush Michael at one. One has a baton, the other, a knife. The man with the baton strikes first, but Michael easily sidesteps the attack and responds by plunging a blade into his arm.

The Baton-man cries out and drops his weapon.

The man with the knife attacks next, swiping at Michael's face. Michael pulls back his head and slashes with his other hand, catching his assailant across the eyes.

Blood splatters the Baton-man's face.

The Knife-man screams and hits the floor.

Michael looks briefly over his shoulder. Two more men are approaching. He pulls the blade out of the Baton-man's arm and drops to his knees. He then plunges the blade he'd drawn across the Knife-man's eyes, into the side of the Baton-man's right knee, and twists.

The Baton-man wails and grips his knee.

Michael pulls the knife out of the Baton-man's leg and, no longer perceiving him as a threat, turns swiftly to address the other two men that have just arrived. Keeping low, he slices one man across both shins and stabs the other in the crotch. He then rises to a
chorus of anguish, rapidly stabbing both men in various different places. At the climax of his assault, he slashes one man across the throat and embeds nine inches of steel in the other one's jaw.

Michael's toes curl and his body convulses. Someone has stuck him with an electric baton. Fighting off the current, he turns and sweeps the knife in his right hand at an upward angle, catching the left-handed administrator of the jolt under the armpit.

The man cries out and drops the baton.

"Save it," Michael says, and slashes him across the mouth with the other knife.

The man Michael had stabbed in the knee isn't out of action. He's lying on his back and bringing his rifle into play. He sinks multiple rounds into Michael's chest.

Michael absorbs the bullets then leaps onto the man. He rips the M4 out of his victim's hands then rams one of
the knives through the top of his skull. He pulls the knife free then gets to his feet in time to engage two more men. They're both brandishing knives. They slash and stab at him, but are only moderately successful with their attack.

Michael moves so swiftly he's almost impossible to target. He goes back and forth between both men, stabbing and slicing with such ferocity he cuts through body armor and into bone. The sound of suffering floods the car before the men finally succumb to Michael's vicious onslaught. One of them drops with a blade still jammed between his teeth.

Michael hears another man advance quickly from the rear. He turns and throws his remaining knife. It catches the oncoming man straight between the eyes. The man's head snaps back and he goes down, baton still in hand. This reveals yet another man. This one is pointing a Taser gun.

Two probes strike Michael square in the chest. His body jolts from the initial burst. But it'll take a significantly bigger current than that to stop him.

The man operating the Taser frantically squeezes the trigger, trying to deliver as much juice as possible into Michael.

Michael tears the probes from his body then advances on the man.

Recognizing he's in a lot of trouble, the man discards the Taser. He reaches up and grabs the shotgun strapped to his back, but drops it when he realizes Rhodes is going to reach him before he has the chance to use it.

Michael takes a fistful of the man's uniform.

“Puh- please ...” the man says, unable to tear his gaze from Michael's strange looking eye, “we're not trying to kill you.”

“Is that your idea of not killing me? Shooting me with a shotgun?”

The man shakes his head. “No- I ... I wasn't going to kill you with it.”

“It's a shotgun,” Michael says. “You think I can grow a new fucking head if you decorate the wall with it?”

“Please,” the man begs, “I have a wife and-”

“I've heard it all before,” Michael snaps.

And he has heard it all before, but the panic-stricken man's plea has affected him. The color drains from his reptilian looking eye and his grip on the man's uniform relaxes.

... And then he feels a burning pain in his side. He looks down and sees the man has plunged a knife into him.

“You absolute motherfucker,” he snarls.

The sclera of his left eye turns yellow again.

Drink for us both, Michael
.

Michael tears off the man's helmet and sinks his teeth into his victim's neck. The man screams and buckles at the knees, but Michael holds him steady. Eventually, the fight fades from the man and Michael feels sated enough to release him to the floor. He wipes his mouth with the back of a hand and turns. Standing outside the exterior door opposite is a man with tightly cropped black hair. He's wearing a light brown trench coat with its collar upturned.

Michael makes eye contact with him.

I know you
.

At that moment, more Unicorn men pour in at either end of the car.

 

*

 

The Unicorn man drags Laura to the floor with him.

Laura stabs the man in the chest over and over. Blood splashes across her face and gets in her eyes, but still she keeps stabbing. “
Just. Fucking. Die
!”

The man's hand flops to the floor and one last breath escapes his lungs.

Leaving the knife embedded in her assailant's chest, Laura gets up off her knees. She's breathing heavily and trembling all over. Her hair is mottled with blood. From the corner of her eye, she sees the door at the end of the aisle open.

Amber stumbles into the car. She looks like she's been beaten senseless.

Laura starts towards her. “Amber?”

Amber collapses. Standing directly behind her is the demented looking woman in the torn pink top.

Laura slows to a stop. “You again.”

“Laura,” Wendy calls from behind, “what's happened to Amber? Who is that woman?”

Without looking back at Wendy, Laura replies: “I have no idea. But it's not a woman.”

“My name is Devinniel.”

Laura approaches Devinniel. “Like I even care.”

Amber moans and tries to pick herself up. Devinniel steps over her. It outstretches a hand to Laura and beckons for her to take it.

“If I take it, I break it,” Laura says. She snatches Devinniel's arm. But it's not an arm anymore, it's a thick red and black snake.

The snake coils itself around Laura's arm and hisses loudly. Laura gasps and tries to pull away, but she can't seem to break free.

Hideously broken laughter rattles from the darkness beyond Devinniel's twisted mouth.

Growing in length, the snake continues to works its way up Laura's arm, towards her head.

“Get off me!” Laura screams, and batters furiously at its thick, scaly body.

Bright orange flame bursts to life on either side of Devinniel. It rapidly spreads the length of the aisle, as though following a gasoline trail.

The sight of the combustion fills Laura with dread.

Devinniel's dark, elliptical gaze narrows in on Laura. Clearly intoxicated by her fear, it's mouth grins wide with pleasure.

Laura hears Devinniel's voice in her head:
Never forget what Amara did to you
.

The snake rears its head in front of Laura's face, and, for a moment, the woman finds herself lost to the serpent's twinkling eyes and hypnotic sway.

Never forget
.

Suddenly, the snake strikes Laura in the chest. The blow, not from the snake, but from a large wood splitting ax, sends Laura stumbling backwards into Andred's clutches. He pulls the ax from her chest and discards it, then pins her arms to her sides with his own powerful arm.

Laura thrashes wildly. "Get away from me!"

Andred places a hand firmly over Laura's mouth and pulls her head to one side. He casts his gaze upon her soft white skin. His eyes blaze red. He opens his mouth. Thick strings of saliva hang from his gleaming fangs. And then he strikes, puncturing flesh.

Laura squeezes shut her eyes and wails from behind Andred's hand. The pain in her neck is blinding.

He can't be here. This isn't happening. It isn't real.

... If it isn't real, what is Wendy reacting hysterically to
?

As intimidating as the flames on either side of her are, Wendy's main concern is the large aching bump in her belly. She shakes her head in denial at what she's seeing then pulls the helmet from her head. How did she become this pregnant so fast? It isn't possible. Breathing rapidly, she pushes her back against the door behind, then pulls up her knees and places her hands on the growing bump. She feels like she's going to pass out from the pain. Everything has become a confused jumble. Her world has went insane. All she wants
is to be at home, curled up in bed, knowing her parents are there to protect her.

Something inside her gives way and she thinks she feels her panties snap. She wonders if its her water breaking. She isn't sure what that should feel like, or how her underwear could tear. But what else could it be?

Wendy pulls up her skirt and peers between her knees, and what she sees isn't the contents of an amniotic sac, but a myriad of small red and black spiders, highlighted by the orange glow of flame. She screams at the sight of them running in all directions. A number of them scuttle up her legs. Frantically, she brushes them off, but they just keep pouring out from between her thighs. She tries to push herself into a standing position, but it's no use. Her trembling legs are too weak.

Smoke from the burning plastic seats enters her lungs, causing her to cough.

“Laura!” she screams.

Andred withdraws his fangs from Laura's neck and forces her, face first, to the floor.

“Stop it!” Laura protests.

Andred pins Laura's wrists behind her back and starts to bind them.

“This isn't real,” Laura says under her breath. “It isn't real.”

Devinniel crouches before Laura. It takes a handful of her hair and lifts her head. It looks into her frightened eyes.

“Leave me alone!” Laura cries. “Get away from-”

Andred stuffs a dirty rag into Laura's mouth.

An oily substance drools from one side of Devinniel's lop-sided grin.

Laura shakes her head and tries to spit out the rag, but for some reason it won't budge. It feels like it's glued into her mouth. She breathes in through her nose, inhaling smoke, then coughs violently into the gag.

Devinniel releases Laura's hair then stands. It watches Andred turn the woman onto her back and gaze lasciviously at her writhing body.

Laura struggles to free her bound wrists. How could this be happening to her again? How could something so clearly imagined seem so real?

Just then, the lights in the car briefly flicker then remain on.

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