Beetle Brain Pre-Order Now Available


Gang! Holy shit! It’s finally here! Just six short months after the release of Kevin Strange’s weird mutant romance novel I Died In A Bed Of Roses comes his return to the world of extreme horror fiction with his brand new novel Beetle Brain!

If you’re a fan of the hardcore shit, I mean the full-on murder sex, ultra-violent, nonstop gorefests, this is the book for you! It’s also Kevin’s longest novel to date, clocking in just shy of 45,000 words. That’s 203 pages of big tits, sharp talons and bucket after bucket of bodily fluid.

And now, for a limited time, you can own this tome of concentrated death-jizz signed, personalized AND shipped to you for a mere 15 dollars if you buy the pre-order in the Strange Fiction Square store.

But this wouldn’t be a Kevin Strange novel pre-sale without some kind of Strangehead hookup, now would it? Of course not! So if you pre-order Beetle Brain in the next week, you’ll get another Kevin Strange novel absolutely free! Just list which book from the Strange Fiction catalog you’d like alongside the new freshness in the comments upon checkout. It’s that easy! Then, on September 1st, we’ll ship your books to you.

You ready to get weird, gang? Pre-order Beetle Brain now!

Beetle Brain: First Two Chapters Revealed!


Gang, we’ve got a real treat for you today! Chomping at the bit waiting for the new extreme horror novel from Kevin Strange? Then we’ve got an awesome TEASE for that ass!

While the novel won’t be available for sale till at least the end of the month, we’ve managed to get our hands on the first TWO chapters for your bitch ass eyeball pieces!

Now, this book ain’t for the faint of heart or easily offended, but we don’t have to tell the Strangeheads that! This is HARDCORE horror and the blood, guts and sexual fluids fly right from the jump!

Before you read these exclusive excerpts, be sure to check out the cover reveal and book synopsis here.

Enough foreplay, gang, here’s chapter 1 and chapter 2 of BEETLE BRAIN!

 

Chapter 1

Sue Ellen wasn’t aiming to get fucked that night, but as fate would have it, she would end up with a dick in her ass—both literally and cosmically—before dawn.

The guy was nice enough. A small time politician from Chicago with more money than brains and more drugs than faith in the sanctity of marriage.

Sue Ellen was a couple hundred dollars short on rent, and the strip club was dead as a doornail like it was every other Tuesday night since the city passed an ordinance requiring all dancers and waitresses in strip clubs to register with the state. Thing was, there was only ONE strip club in Hopp’s Hollow. This was the city’s way of pushing them out, even though they’d been grandfathered in when the new mayor decided to “clean up” the downtown area.

Downtown area. Yeah right,” Sue Ellen thought as the politician balled her rear end in one of the lap dance rooms near the back of the club. He’d paid the bouncer Jackson a hundred bucks to keep watch. Not like it mattered; Quinton, the bartender, was the owner of the Twin Moon, and he knew exactly what they were doing back there, how illegal it was, and how quick he’d end up in jail if he got caught whoring out his strippers. But with business at an all time low, he took his chances, knowing she’d split the loot with him later that night.

Hopp’s hadn’t had decent downtown nightlife in fifty years—not since the mills shut down and the barges that ran up and down the Mississippi river started using Hopp’s as nothing more than a gas station.

Business dried up and the millionaire families who’d started those mills sold their mansions for pennies on the dollar. Now the huge buildings were havens for prostitutes and drug dealers. The beautiful, ornate rooms overlooking the waterfront had been stripped bare and converted into efficiency apartments. They stood in ruins all over the city. Once grand landmarks, now so dilapidated, they gave Hopp’s Hollow, Illinois the distinctive honor of being considered one of the most haunted towns in the entire world.

I’m gonna cum, baby!” The politician spun Sue Ellen around and pushed her to her knees. He unloaded all over her face, grunting and dripping sweat. When he was finished, he halfheartedly pulled up his pants and stumbled into the hallway.

Sue Ellen had collected the cash before she let him enter her rump: five hundred bucks for ten minutes of work after she peeled off half for Quinton. Not bad. And at least he didn’t make me put his dick back in my mouth, she thought, pulling up her panties.

She didn’t clean off her face, though. That would cost her the other hundred bucks she was about to make. Sure enough, Jackson scooted through the satin curtain. “Oh… Oh that’s fucking hot.”

Sue Ellen sat still as Jackson unbuckled his pants and started jacking off. As he got closer to climax, he’d start rubbing his fingers through the other man’s cum on her face.

Sue Ellen thought about how many groceries she could buy with six hundred smackaroos.

Oh yeah. Oh fuck yeah!”

And there he went. As he got off, Jackson always licked the other guy’s cum off her face. As soon as he’d recovered, he would grumble something about not being gay and drop the cash in her lap. They’d never actually spoken about Jackson’s peculiar fetish, she just caught him whacking it after she’d finished up with a client one night and told him if he didn’t pay, she’d tell Quinton and get him fired.

Dudes are fucking weird,” she thought as she wiped the rest of the spunk and saliva off her face, touched up her makeup in the mirror inside the tiny booth and then returned to the front. Her song was playing. It was her turn to dance for an empty house.

When she walked out front, she saw him.

The man who would forever change her life.

The man who would make her a queen. Just not the kind of queen any woman in her right mind would want to be.

He’d make her the Queen of the Beetles.

Chapter 2

A Perfect Circle’s “Judith” blasted over the speakers as the DJ introduced her. “Aaaaand Lilly joins us on the main stage! As fierce as she is sexy, you’re gonna wanna get right up next to this little hottie. You don’t wanna miss her big finale!”

There was one customer in the entire club. Bless Joshy’s heart, he came in here and gave it his all every night. No matter how crowded or dead it was, he was at the top of his DJ game.

The customer was a strange little foreign man. He waddled up to the stage and sat down. He had about six strips of wispy black hair that he had combed up over the top of his head.—not well, either; it was sticking up and jutting out at weird angles. He was dark-complected with brown eyes and big sweaty lips on top of jowls that reminded Sue Ellen of rotten pudding. She dropped to her knees and crawled up to him like he was a king or a god all the same. It was her job. This is what she did to keep the lights on. She didn’t even see the creepy little men anymore. Her mind was always far away. When she needed to get away from reality, she always imagined herself on a beach in the middle of nowhere. Shipwrecked. Stranded somehow. Abducted at the beach by the uncivilized natives who stripped her naked and prepared to gang rape her right there on the shore until they saw a birth mark or some other fantastical telltale sign and realized she was their long lost queen.

The thought always made Sue Ellen smile, even on the worst days at the club with the creepiest creepers copping cheap feels on her tits and ass without a dollar to their name to show for it. She imagined herself on a throne of gold, natives at her feet worshiping her. Singing songs in her name.

Fuck yeah,” she thought. “Worship me, bitches.”

Back in the real world, back in the club, she popped the strap on the back of her bra and let her tits fall out. She shook them in the little dark man’s face and purred in his ear, “I’m Lilly. What’s your name?”

Lilly was her stripper name, by the way. Adam’s first wife in the bible. Made her feel deep and shit, but the truth was, she hadn’t even given herself the name. A veteran stripper with the name of Annabelle had felt sorry for her on Sue Ellen’s first night at the club, all wide eyes, quick to tears. She’d run away from home after her mom ended up in jail for the third time for check fraud and her step daddy and step brother had decided to turn her into a human shish kabob, fucking her from the front and the back at the same time.

The boyfriend she’d had at the time was such a fucking junkie, he’d passed out high in the car during her audition and had a fucking overdose. She was hired on the spot and had to go back to fucking work that night just to bail him out of jail after the club had called the cops on him for trying to die on their property.

To say she’d been a bit frazzled was an understatement. When it was her turn to dance, the DJ asked her what her name was. She’d told him it was Sue Ellen, not understanding that he meant her stripper name. Annabelle had been nearby and swooped in to her rescue, telling the DJ to call her Lilly.

That’s a pretty name,” she’d said, wiping tears from her eyes for the third time that night. Annabelle had explained what it meant and the name stuck. Annabelle was a nice girl. Annabelle showed up decapitated in a dumpster in north Hopp City three months later after ripping off her crack dealer one time too many.

When the dark man in front of her didn’t respond to the name question, she moved onto her next routine. Acting like you gave a fuck about a client’s name and job was an easy way to score an extra twenty or two when you told them about how hard you were working in college, just stripping on the side to pay tuition (yeah right—Sue Ellen barely made it through her freshman year in high school before she got caught with the lesbian P.E. teacher, letting the lesbo bitch eat her out in the locker room for an easy A).

Privates are only twenty bucks,” she whispered expertly into his ear. As a stripper you either learned how to be sultry and seductive on the outside even if you were screaming and crying on the inside, or you didn’t make money. That’s how the strip club business rolls. There’s always another pretty girl short on shame who loves cash money to take your place.

Some dudes don’t want to tell you anything about themselves. They’re always married, but some of them have a lot to lose if their fat bitch wives ever found out they hung out in strip clubs with all that young sexy pussy flaunting around. Some guys wanted to get right to the point. They wanted tits and ass in their face and they wanted to blow wads in their pants (or all over your face, if the money was right).

I had something more… lucrative in mind,” the pudgy little creep said, flashing a wallet full of hundred dollar bills.

Sue Ellen raised up, shaking her tits over the man’s face before dramatically falling backward, letting her shoulders hit the stage while she thrust her crotch lustily in his face.

Really what she was doing was eyeballing Quinton at the bar. She already had to tip him out for the buttfuck she’d received earlier, she wasn’t looking to split two tricks with him tonight. She had plans for this money. She was going to blow this crappy town and head to Vegas where she could get a real porn career going. She was sick of taking dicks up the ass for pennies on the dollar when she could be a real star and take dicks up the ass for six figures.

Sue Ellen might have rolled snake eyes in the luck department when it came to her childhood, growing up with a crook of a mother and a molester of a stepdad, but at least she’d hit the genetic lottery when it came to her looks.

It didn’t matter to these fucking perverts how fucked up in the head you were if you had a pretty smile and nice tits or a big ass. All they wanted was to get off. You were a fantasy to them. an unattainable beauty in which to target their lust once their wives had shat out a few of their little brats and got all lumpy and soft in the wrong areas. Once they stopped sucking their husbands’ smelly little dicks.

That’s all Sue Ellen was: a hot piece of ass to aim their dicks at. And she was totally fine with that—for now, anyway. She’d run away to Vegas and make the most of her perky tits and plump ass ’til they started to sag. ‘Til she became that tribal queen in her fantasies.

Quinton was flirting with one of the blonde waitresses, the one with the pierced nipples and bad breath. He wasn’t paying any attention.

Sue Ellen leaned in to the little man in front of her again. “Oh yeah, baby?” She licked his ear. It tasted bitter, thick with wax. Her stomach turned over a bit. She swallowed it down like the pro she was. “Tell me more.”

Meet me at this address after your shift.” The dark man slipped a business card onto to the stage, wrapped in a hundred dollar bill. “I won’t get into specifics here. Come alone.”

Sue Ellen opened her panties, giving him full view of her shaved pussy, and dropped the money and card inside, letting her panties snap back against her glistening skin. She patted it for good measure. “I don’t meet strange men by myself, sugar. I got more sense than that.”

He smiled, showing several crooked and yellowed teeth. “I’m sure you do, sweet Lilly.” He slid another hundred into her bra as she gyrated in front of him to the rhythm of the music. “A public place then, would be more to your liking?”

Sue Ellen smiled slyly, ecstatic that she’d scored another two hundred bones just for having a minute-long chat with some rich creeper. “Sure, baby. Meet me at the Waffle House down in Pontoon Beach at five thirty.”

The little man leaned forward and slid a final hundred into her G-string just above her butt crack. “You’ll be there?”

With bells on, honey.”

The freaky man curled his finger back in a “Come closer” motion. She giggled, feeling a twinge of revulsion for allowing herself to be commanded by such an odd little twerp, but she did as he asked, leaning in close enough to kiss him.

He whispered, “There’s two thousand dollars in it for you if you actually show.”

Sue Ellen sat back on her haunches, stunned. That’s the kind of loot she hoped to save up over the next three months. Two Gs was all she needed to escape to Vegas. She hadn’t actually considered meeting this guy at Waffle House. Dudes tried to pick her up at the club every night. It was all part of the game: Make them think they were somebody special, somebody you really wanted to fuck. Get them to invite you out for breakfast after work, then drain their wallets while they were still in the club.

No girl in her right mind would actually meet one of these weirdos out in public away from the safety of club security. Not alone, anyway. But for two grand? She’d let this guy’s friends take turns fucking her in a hotel room for two grand. Shit, they wouldn’t even have to take turns. They could all gang up on her at once for that kind of money.

Would she really be able to skip town and leave Hopp’s Hollow in the dust tonight?

The thought made her dance up off the table and do her first pole tricks in two years. With hardly ever any customers, there was no reason to get fancy with it. But tonight? Tonight there was cause to celebrate!

She climbed up to the top, flipped upside down and into the splits, slowly spinning as gravity pulled her back down toward the floor, smiling the whole way.

Never guessing that meeting with the dark little man would be the worst mistake of her whole shitty life.

Vampire Guts In Nuke Town Chapter 8

Vampire Guts in Nuketown was originally published in 2013. It is available to purchase in full via Kindle or paperback by clicking here. Before reading this chapter, catch up with chapter 0chapter 1chapter 2, chapter 3chapter 4chapter 5chapter 6, and Chapter 7.


EIGHT

Guts had misjudged the light. It was getting dark earlier. Fall was coming on (or whatever passed for fall in the radiation apocalypse). He thought he’d have a few more hours of good daylight left. He’d been heading west across the Midwest. He was following what had once been the Mississippi River—which was now a green toxic sludge that more resembled thick snot than Ole Muddy—south, toward warmer weather, longer light. He’d passed up several small towns, trying to make up for lost time. He had stayed in one a couple days longer than he’d expected, clearing a nest out in an abandoned oil refinery. He wanted to make Old Mexico before winter set in. He hated the cold almost as much as he hated vampires.

When dusk hit, he was still walking down a highway with woods on either side. Their gnarled, florescent foliage taunted him.

It’ll be dark soon, human! The vampires will eat you and throw us the bones! You look soooo tasty!”

Guts had long ago learned not to listen to sentient vegetables. He hadn’t seen so much as a gas station in hours. He had no real plan, but knew he couldn’t just stand around and wait for the Fangers to creep out of their dirt beds deep inside the earth. It’s not that he was scared of vampires; he just couldn’t stomach the thought of the peanut gallery here talking shit the whole time he fought them.

As he crested a steep hill, he heard a girl crying.

“Nicky, please! It’s almost dark! Let’s go back before the Fangers come out!”

A deeper male voice accompanied the first. “You shut the fuck up, little sis! We need at least one more Pog to make the shit! Keep doing it!”

When Guts cleared the hill, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. At an abandoned intersection, several yards in front of him, lay a naked girl, masturbating in the middle of the street. Hidden behind a twisted up tree sat a young man, looking bored, cradling a shotgun in his lap, his back turned to Guts.

He slowed his pace, quietly shifting his large duffel bag on his back, taking in the bizarre scene.

A long, thin vine hung from a tree limb above the black-haired man’s head. Its length was bright purple with tufts of pink flowers jutting off the main body at odd intervals, with little green thorns sprouting out intermittently. It spoke in harsh whispers. “Why is your sister frigging off in the street, man? What’s wrong with you people?

“Shut the fuck up, tree,” he pointed the shotgun up in the air, “or I’ll blow your limbs off one by one.”

The vine coiled back around the limb in response, then added, “Jeez, testy much? Just making conversation. We don’t get many visitors out here besides the Fangers and the damn Pogs. We hate those little fuckers.

“Yeah, well, those little fuckers get me high as fuck, and for whatever reason, they love it when my sister spikes out. Gets them out of hiding every time.”

Spikes out?”

“Just watch.”

Guts crept up behind him, finding the perfect spot behind a burned out truck, totally oblivious to the fading daylight. His curiosity had gotten the best of him. The tree was right, there were hardly ever people on the road anymore. This was better than Saturday morning cartoons.

Sure enough, as the girl in the street moaned louder and louder, nearing climax, she… spiked out.

Guts couldn’t help but be turned on. She was beautiful, even in this freakish form, resembling a giant hedgehog or porcupine. His sex became engorged at the continued sounds of her pleasure.

“Wooop! Wooooooop!”

In spite of the coming darkness, three Pogs reared their ugly, human face-wearing heads from behind the remains of a three-car pileup further down the highway. Tentatively, they approached the girl, whose moans had become deep and guttural.

The smallest of the three sidestepped its way to her, frantically looking around for any immediate danger. When it got close enough to her, it used a severed leg it had acquired from god-knows-where to poke at the girl.

She responded by redoubling her cries of ecstasy. The little Pog wooped its approval to its companions, who cautiously joined it. Now the Pogs gently rubbed her feet with their comically wide, fat hands, slowly moving them up her body.

The dark-haired man behind the tree tensed up, repositioning his grip on the shotgun. His hands were shaky. He was definitely a Pooger in desperate need of a fix.

The fattest of the Pogs moved up to hover over the girl with its short, thin legs on either side of her head. It dropped its tiny sex down onto her face. She flinched a bit, then took the pathetic little thing into her mouth, eliciting a long woop of pleasure.

The other two Pogs got into a quick spat over who would mount her first. The little guy won, smacking its companion across the top of the head with its severed leg. With short woops of anticipation, the little Pog crawled between the girls legs and, without hesitation, began to thrust its miniscule sex in and out of her sopping wetness. The third Pog took to palming its ridiculous penis with an enormous hand. The girl bucked hard, trying to create friction against the diminutive Pog’s penis, while its companion flopped its withered balls and cock against her open mouth. Try as she might, she was unable to find a rhythm against the awkward animals.

Guts began to grow uncomfortable with the strange scene, and looked out beyond the intersection full of fornicating mutants. There was a town there. He’d managed to make it to civilization before it was too late. Almost.

All at once, the Pog dipping its balls and cock into the girl’s pointy face shot off its orgasm, a partially translucent, bubbly thickness that actually began to slither away as soon as it touched down across her jagged nipples and torso. This sent the other Pog engaged in intercourse into its own spastic orgasm, shooting its viscous jizm all over her belly. The girl seemed to become even more aroused at the sight of the foreign bodies slopping all over her prone form. The two puddles of liquid actually began visibly fighting over her naked body. The third Pog, the one jacking off, shot its load as well, except this one stumbled, and, in the process, ejaculated all over the dead human face-mask of its small companion, causing another small scuffle to break out between the weird little creatures.

A loud screech from behind them broke up the squabble and signaled full night.

The vampires are coming, pervert,” the tree said. “This’ll be good!”

“Fuck!” The dark-haired man jumped up in a spastic, nervous jerk. He fired off a haphazard shot at the Pogs hovering around his sister. They wooped in fear and scattered.

“Nicky, what the fuck!!!” The girl shifted back to human form in an instant.

“Don’t start with me, Shelly! You fucked that up! How am I supposed to make Poog juice now? I need a fucking fix!”

Exasperated, the girl grabbed her clothing and quickly dressed. Before she could respond, another screech sounded, closer this time, followed by several more. The woods all around them rustled with movement.

Dinner time!” the tree said, coiling its vines tightly around its branches, bracing for the coming fight.

Fuck! Guts thought, standing up.

The man, Nick, swung the shotgun around. “Woah! Woah! Who the fuck?!” He spoke out of three mouths: one on his forehead, and two on his cheeks. His main mouth remained shut.

Guts put his hands up. “Easy there, stallion.” He walked out from behind the car. “I’m a friend. I’m not here to hurt you or rob you, or anything. We’re all about to be in some serious shit, so you’re gonna have to trust me or-“

Blam!

Guts ducked away just in time to miss the shot, but not before he felt hot lead graze the side of his face. Great. This guy is a total fucking psycho.

“You might need those bullets for, you know, the vampires!”

Blam! Guts scurried back behind the car. The screeches of the vampires doubled, tripled. They had heard the gunshots and were now right on top of them.

“You can’t have my sister, motherfucker! She’s mine! Shelly, get your ass over here!”

“Uhh, I’m not interested in your sister, guy!” Guts pulled his knife from his boot. Where had this little prick found a working shotgun, anyway? And ammo? The years of radiation had done a number on all mechanics, including gun mechanisms. He hadn’t seen a working gun in years.

“Fucking shit! Shelly, HELP!!!”

Guts chanced a peek around the car.

“Let go of me, you cocksucking fucking tree!”

The vine had dropped down off its branch and… wrapped Nick in a tangled embrace. It had his arms tied up within many gnarled loops. As it tightened its hold, Nick dropped the shotgun.

“Aaahhhh! Fuuuuuuck!”

The vine lifted him off the ground, its tiny green thorns digging into his skin. Blood began to drip off the whole mess as it rolled him tighter and tighter, like a constricting snake. The pink blooms then moved to suck up the blood before it could trickle to the ground.

Nick tried to scream again, but the vines wrapped around his face, preventing any further protest.

Shelly ran up to the wreckage Guts still hid behind. “Sir, please help him! I-I’m sorry he shot at you, please just get him down!”

Guts stood to face her, and the tree line exploded with vampires, ending any further discussion.

“Come on!” he commanded, grabbing the girl by her wrist.

“What about Nicky??”

Guts scooped up the shotgun and made a break for the town beyond the intersection.

“Too late for him. But not for us!”

Five of the monsters crashed out of the trees, with even more screeching behind them. If they’d stayed behind even ten seconds more, they’d have been overwhelmed. Guts preferred to fight vampires on his own terms, not in the middle of the night out in the open wilderness.

Two of the vile beasts stopped at the tree holding Nick, choosing the easy meal over a chase they might not win. They leaped up and latched on to the young man. The vines strained, but held, uncoiling enough for the things to sink their hateful fangs in. The trees and the vampires worked together in this place. How odd.

The three remaining Fangers broke out in a sprint, vaulting over the wreckage, screeching the entire time.

Shelly was hysterical, but kept up. “What about Nicky? What about my brother!?”

“Shut up and run!”

Guts dodged down a side street. A large sign read:

Cave Inn Bed and Breakfast just two blocks on the right!

“This way, come on!” He grabbed Shelly by the arm and ran as fast as he could.

The monsters screeched just behind them.

His lungs were burning as he pushed onward, and yet the vampires gained still. He could hear their panting and snarling at his heels. Shelly screamed and gasped in equal measure as the Fanger in the lead began to swipe at her back, only just missing each time.

Guts weaved into the front yard of a long burned-down house, trying to put space between himself and the creatures, when the three Pogs from earlier jumped out from the rubble and began running alongside them, wooping in terror.

What the hell? Guts thought, his mind burning from lack of oxygen.

It only took a matter of seconds for Guts to understand their fear. Vampires usually left Pogs alone, but as their squat little legs failed to keep up with Guts and Shelly, they were soon overtaken by the beasts. And that’s when a curious thing happened: two of the wretched monsters scooped up the Pogs and dashed off to the left, abandoning their chase altogether, leaving only one Fanger in pursuit. The Pogs’ woops became hysterical as they grew distant, before disappearing altogether.

Guts had no time to think about the bizarre incident, as they had just then reached the parking lot of the Cave Inn, with the vampire hot on their tails. There were three rooms that still had doors. Guts made a dash toward Room 17 just as the Vampire caught up to them.

“It’s gonna get us!” Shelly screamed, huffing and puffing. Her face was completely flushed. She dripped sweat from the constant sprint. She wouldn’t make it to the door.

Guts grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her forward, out of the creature’s reach, sending her stumbling ahead. She lost her balance and crashed to the gravel lot.

Guts stopped and, all at once, knelt down and spun around. The vampire’s bulky form couldn’t compensate in time. It barreled straight into Guts, who used its own massive weight against it, jamming his knife into its chest, piercing its heart as he flipped it over his head, sending it wailing, thrashing, and gushing black blood as it bounced off the ground. It screeched and flailed for a moment longer before it went quiet, twitching in death spasms.

Guts caught his breath, wiped the sweat from his brow.

Well, that was fucking close, he thought, standing. Why would they break off and attack those Pogs? Why would they only send one Fanger to chase after us? We’re the food source.

His victory, and his puzzlement, were short lived, as screeches filled the night from all directions.

He turned around to check on Shelly when—

Crack !

—She smacked him across the face. “What the fuck was that?” she said, brushing the rocks out of a nasty gash in her knee.

“I-I was saving your life!” he replied, massaging the sore spot on his cheek.

“I fucking had it under control, guy! You should learn to keep your hands to your fucking self,” she shot back, crossing her arms, staring daggers.

Flabbergasted, Guts could only stare back, until he heard more screeches, closer still.

“Come on, let’s get inside. You can thank me later.”

Room 17 was a grimy cesspool of filth. It had been worked over by scavengers years ago. All that remained, aside from the ancient garbage and filth of hundreds of squatters littering the floor, were two surprisingly intact mattresses, and a giant metal table that served to hold a tarp in place that covered the blown-out Eastern wall. One mattress lay up against the northern wall, the other on the floor against the western wall.

“Well, it ain’t the Ritz, but it’ll do. I guess you sleep over there,” Guts motioned toward the filthy mattress. “I’ll take the floor by the door and window, so if anybody or anything comes through, they’ll have to get through me first.”

Shelly looked at him. Her eyes shrank to slits. “So you’re my protector now, huh? Is that what you think? You let those things fuckin’ eat Nick, and now you think I’m your little play toy, huh?” She was red in the face again, anger seething.

Guts closed the distance between them in the small, humid room. “I’m sorry about your brother. If there had been any chance to save him, I would have tried. We barely escaped as it was.”

She looked up in his face, met his gaze, and held it for a beat. Then laughed. “You think that doofus was really my brother?!?” She threw her head back and actually cackled. “Oh man! I let that freak call me his sister ‘cause he’s real good at trapping those fucking Pogs! I barely even knew him. I met him at a shitty little outpost up north of Snot River.”

She rolled her tank top up, exposing her tits. There was still Pog cum squirming around between them. She took a finger and chased it down while it tried to wiggle away from her. She quickly caught it and raised it up to her nose.

“How the fuck am I supposed to get high with him dead, huh? We were just about to score three of those fuckers. You know how much Poog we could have made off that? Shit. And now I’m stuck in here with Mr. Savior of the Universe. My fucking hero!” She snorted the Pog cum up in one whiff, coughing and choking on its thickness. “Ain’t no substitute for the blood, but it’ll hold me over ‘til morning.”

Guts stood, mouth agape. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. He’d met Poog junkies in the past—lots of them—but this bitch was ruthless… and sexy as hell.

At that point, her eyes glazed over, her nipples hardened, and a wry smile crossed her face. She pulled the top the rest of the way over her head, then stepped out of her little shorts.

Guts couldn’t help himself. The boldness of this young woman, this female specimen forged out of the chaos and misery of the road, made his cock throb.

Don’t be stupid. She’s a Pooger. She’d just as soon cut your throat as fuck you. His brain screamed at him.

He didn’t listen. Loneliness had a way of drowning out reason.

She put her hands on her hips, brazenly standing naked in front of him. “You ain’t so bad, I guess. Ain’t no vampire gonna get me with you around, anyway. You’re big, too.” She stepped forward and mashed her hand into his crotch. “You got a big dick to go with those big muscles?”

His cock pulsed. The last time he’d been with a woman, he’d had to rub himself down with Pog salts just to get the stench off him. Outpost whores were not the most sanitary people in the world. By the time Shelly got around to unzipping his pants, his dick could’ve bent steel.

“Holy fuck! This thing is huge!” She dropped down to her knees and smiled up at him. “I want you to fuck my face as hard as you can.”

Guts peeled off his vampire-face jacket and stood in front of her, bare-chested.

“Neat scar,” she said of his abdominal wound, as she yanked his pants down past his buttocks, fully unleashing his massive cock and balls.

Guts replied by grabbing her ponytail and thrusting his nine inches all the way down her throat until her eyes bulged from the pressure.

She gasped as he yanked back out as forcefully as he entered, drooling a long line of spittle down onto her tits, where the last vestiges of Pog sperm set to work, lapping it up with microscopic mouths.

Grabbing her by the chin, he dragged his thickness across her nose and cheeks, then pushed her head back, leaned forward, and spit directly into her mouth.

She moaned her approval before he jammed his cock between her lips once more. Using one hand to push against his ass, making him thrust his sex deeper and deeper down her esophagus, she used the other to torque the throbbing meat just in front of her lips, making sure to time her gyrations with the exit and entrance of the bulbous tip.

Guts was grunting loudly by this point, jamming his cock forward with an intensity that was sure to cause internal damage if he continued for any length of time. Feeling himself ready to burst, he yanked her hands away and pried her mouth open as far as it would go. He stepped over her shoulder, positioning himself directly over her head and proceeded to jackhammer-fuck her throat, dropping his throbbing member down to the root and pulling it all the way back out with each thrust. Even this deviation couldn’t keep his orgasm at bay for much longer. He already felt his balls constricting, that familiar warmth crawling up the shaft of his cock, His consciousness began to blur at the corners as his eruption became eminent.

He stepped off to the side, eyes closed, head thrown back. One, two, three more thrusts and he pulled out feeling the first spurts of jizm travel up his expansive shaft—

—Then, immense pain at his stomach. His eyes opened in disbelief. Simultaneously, his cock shot thick load after thick load across Shelly’s beautiful young face, and torrents of dark arterial blood gushed from his split-open belly, washing the cum away in a sea of red.

She sat back on her heels, a smug grin across her face, as she licked the blood and cum from her lips, then from the blade of Guts’ own knife.

He looked down at his ruined midsection. Loops of intestines already slipped from the gaping wound. Shelly reached up and yanked, sending a fresh wave of unimaginable pain slashing violently through his body. He screamed out and stumbled backward as the contents of his middle fell to the floor.

“You really are a good fuck, stranger. Too bad I’ll never even know your name,” she said as she began rifling through his bag, pulling out vital survival items, stashing them inside her discarded tank top.

“Guts,” he said, finding sure footing, letting the pain wash over him, letting it relax his muscles, letting it uncoil his tattooed horns. “The name’s Guts.”

Shelly’s back went rigid. Before she could fully turn around, the first loopy, gore-slick entrails were on her. Wrapping around her foot, they hauled her up in the air, slamming her against the ceiling. Shelly cried out in surprise and disgust as the blood-soaked intestines dripped all manner of innards on her upturned and prone form.

“W-what are you?” she wailed, as more and more of Guts squirmed out of his dissected midsection.

“What the fuck are you?” she screamed.

“Just another mutant, like you,” Guts said, walking forward as more and more of his insides pooled onto the floor.

Just as quickly as she was lifted up, she was dropped, landing awkwardly on her shoulder. She hissed through her teeth and stood, wrenching the dislocated joint back into place. She really was a badass bitch.

“Too bad I’m not gonna get to know you better,” Guts said, as his entrails squirmed up the rest of her body, trapping her against the wall.

“Wait! Wait!” she pleaded, trying in vain to wiggle free of the encroaching organs. More and more slimy loops crawled across her body, sealing her to the wall until only her head remained free. She thrashed back and forth as panic set in. She began to hyperventilate, and Guts finally knew satisfaction as fear crept into her eyes for the first time.

“W-with your powers and mine, w-we could get all kinds of Poog! You and me, we c-could get rich out here in this god forsaken wasteland! Just let me-let me go and I promise I’ll do you right. I won’t fuck you over again. I promise! I promise!”

Guts didn’t hear the mattress fall away from the wall, didn’t hear the vampires crawl out of the pit-hole they’d dug down into the tunnels. He was too busy with Shelly, too busy wrapping his intestines around her face, one loop at a time, slowly suffocating her.

When the disbelief crossed her eyes as she looked past him, he thought it was because she was accepting death. He didn’t understand what she meant when she mouthed the word “Trap” until it was too late.

***

Check back next month for the next exciting chapter of Vampire Guts In Nuke Town, or click here to buy the full novel via Kindle or paperback on Amazon.com.