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 0, and chapter 1.
As Guts was tending to Nick, Shelly had quietly gathered up a shotgun from under the tarp.
As he hit the ground face first, Guts thought to himself: This is the kind of shit that’s gonna get you killed, brother. Let your guard down for a piece of ass, and look what happens.
Out loud, as an afterthought, he said, “Great actress.” He spat out several teeth, feeling sick to his stomach as the warm, dull pain grew in intensity across his face. Then he mumbled, “Bitch broke my jaw.”
“What’d you say, you fucking scumbag?!” Nick leaped off the bed, snatched the shotgun out of Shelly’s hand, and pointed the business end in Guts’ face.
Guts peered at him through watery eyes, his right one already swelling shut from the blow. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the kid. His wiry form was tensed with adrenaline, veins bulging in his small arms and chest.
“That’s what I thought, you’d better shut the fuck up.” He turned toward Shelly. “What’d this cocksucker do to ya, sis?”
That’s when Guts noticed his second mouth, set in his long, thin neck. A perfectly shaped mouth complete with lips and teeth. It moved in tandem with the one on his face, but made no sound. Nick was a mutant.
“Nothing, Nicky. Honest, he just said he’d help us.” There was fear and apprehension in her voice. She met Guts’ gaze for a split second, her eyes showed remorse. She was a reluctant accomplice in this scheme.
“Yeah right!” Nick hauled off and planted a boot deep into Guts’ ribs, breaking at least one. This action revealed another identical mouth on the opposite side of his neck. He turned back to Shelly.
“He probly fucked you over there. You were gone too long, Shelly! He fucked you, didn’t he!?”
Guts had seen the bait and switch tactic before. Scavengers and motorcycle gangs on the road liked to put wounded animals and children in harm’s way, waiting for some shit-for-brains to come to the rescue. Guts sure felt like he had shit for brains right then. His vision swam, his jaw was on fire, he could barely breathe through cracked ribs, and the damn throbbing in the back of his neck had somehow become worse.
“You think you can just fuck my sister and get away with it, you piece of shit?!” He kicked Guts again. “Huh, loser? Huh?”
Guts rolled into the fetal position, clutching his broken ribs.
Nick grabbed his sister by the pants, unfastening her buckle. Absently, he let the shotgun drop to the floor.
“Nicky, stop. Not now.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Nick violently yanked Shelly’s pants down around her hips. The young girl went limp. She’d obviously been through this before, and knew better than to fight back. She wasn’t wearing underwear. Nick buried his nose into her pussy, breathing deeply.
“I don’t smell your cock in my sister. Good. The only person who gets the honor of fucking this little piece of ass is me! Got it, punk?”
Nick moved behind his sister. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tiny top up over her perky little tits. He massaged them gently in his hands while the tongue on the left side of his neck licked at her cheek, smearing thick white saliva across her face.
She closed her eyes and trembled. Out of fear or lust, Guts couldn’t be certain.
In spite of the tremendous pain he was in, Guts felt his cock begin to stir.
“Unbelievable,” he mumbled, as disgusted with his own perverse excitement as the incestuous scene before him.
Shelly began to moan as her brother turned her around and started sucking on her perky nipples with his main mouth.
“Oh, Nicky. You make me so wet.”
These people are insane, Guts thought. You have got to get up and get the fuck outta here! He made a move to unsheathe the knife from his boot.
In a flash, Nick jerked away from his sister. He stomped Guts’ hand just as it reached the knife handle. New pain surged up Guts’ arm. He again saw blinding flashes of light behind his closed eyes.
“Don’t even think about it, cock suck! Little bitch!” Nick pulled the knife free from its sheathe. “Ho-ly shit! This is a real pig sticker, ain’t it?”
Shelly shifted uncomfortably, pulling her top back down. “C’mon, Nicky, let’s get outta here. I’m hungry. I saw a big bag of food in his room.”
“Not so fast, baby. It might be a week before we run into somebody again. I tell ya, sometimes I think we’re about the last normal people out here on the road. I wanna play with this one for a bit.” Nick pulled the tarp away, revealing a table stacked with all manner of tubes and containers.
That’s when the smell hit Guts. He glanced over and saw the bodies. The tarp wasn’t there to cover a hole in the wall; it was covering the bodies of dead Pogs. This psycho was cooking Pog blood. But for what purpose? Guts should have known. How could he have been so careless? So stupid?
The Pogs outside, they weren’t attacking him. They were warning him that there were Poogers in the other hotel room. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Now he noticed the telltale purple bags under these two lunatics’ eyes; the way they scratched at their arms and twitched, always nervous. They were Poog junkies.
Using the knife, Nick cut away a long strip of tarp. When he crossed back over toward the bed, Guts was met with another boot to the face, sealing the deal on that broken jaw.
Shelly looked on in disapproval as her brother tied Guts’ hands behind his back. Guts remained as quiet as possible, while unbelievable pain crisscrossed along his body. Nick’s right throat-mouth was right by Guts’ face. It breathed deeply. Its noxious breath, like spoiled meat, washed across his face. Guts held his breath, accepting the pain in his ribs over breathing that rancid breath. How could Shelly stand kissing him?
“I don’t know about this, Nicky. He’s real big. Let’s just go, OK?”
Nick whipped a sharp glare in his sister’s direction. “You never let me have any damn fun, baby!”
“No. It’s just… I don’t want him to get loose and hurt us, is all.” Shelly put a hand to her brother’s face.
He violently slapped it away. “Fuck that!”
Shelly flinched away.
“You love him, don’t you?!”
She took a step back, seemingly sensing what was to come next. “What? Nicky, no! I love you! Don’t say that!”
“You fucking slut.” Nick stood and turned away from Guts. “You fucked him, didn’t you??” He dropped the knife inches from Guts’ left boot. It stuck straight up in the thick carpeted floor.
Guts stayed perfectly still. He willed himself invisible. He held his breath again, in spite of the pain.
Nick slowly stalked toward Shelly, violent intentions across his crazed face, twin throat-tongues darting in and out of their grotesque orifices in anticipation.
“Nicky, please, don’t talk like that. I-“
Nick backhanded his sister. Hard. “Bitch!” His hands began to shake. His eyes grew wide with the type of rage that only manifests itself as pure insanity.
Shelly shrank back against the far wall, a look of mute horror across her face. A trickle of blood dripped from the corner of her open mouth. Slowly, her hand went up to the red mark across her cheek.
“You promised no more hitting, Nick.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Nick stared at her for a moment, his anger simmering, threatening to burst forth into another violent act, his tongues whipping in and out of his mouths. Then he turned his back to her. He walked up to the table full of jugs and tubes. He stepped on a dead Pog head as he did so, causing one of its huge eyeballs to burst from its mooring, filling the room with its death stench.
“Don’t start that crying shit on me, Shelly.”
He picked up a small propane torch and began heating up the largest container. Pog blood roiled across the top of the jug, threatening to spill over. It smelled like rotten licorice.
“You fucked this piece of shit, didn’t you? Don’t fucking lie to me!”
Using a thick cloth, Nick poured the boiled solution through a strainer, into a smaller glass half-full of what looked like sugar.
“I told you last time,” Shelly said, her voice a whisper. “Never hit me again.”
Nick whipped back around, glass in hand and stomped back up into Shelly’s face. His hand trembled as he lifted the glass up to his mouth and drank deeply from it.
He was distilling Pog blood into alcohol? Guts had seen Poog used in all manner of weird ways, but he’d yet to see anyone boil it down and make a drink out of it.
Nick closed his eyes, let his head roll back. His muscles visibly relaxed. He leaned backward to the point that Guts was sure he was about to fall over, passed out. Then he straightened up, opened his eyes, and offered the brewed concoction to his sister.
She touched the mark on her cheek again, hesitant and fearful to accept the glass from her brother, and yet there was a longing in her face that begged for the drug contained within.
“Nick. I… I shouldn’t.”
He swirled the glass, smirking at her, his eyes half-closed and bloodshot. Telltale golden slime leaked from his tear ducts. He let his free hand casually press up against the crotch of her shorts.
With reluctance, she said, “I-I don’t want any.” Then she gently pushed his hand away and added, “Don’t touch me again.”
Nick’s lips, all six of them, began to tremble. He opened his main mouth to speak, then stopped. Instead, he backhanded Shelly across the other side of her mouth.
“Bitch!” he screamed. “Don’t ever tell me what to do! I’m in charge. Got it!?”
Faster than Guts thought possible, Shelly grabbed up the shotgun from the floor and stuck it in Nick’s face.
“Enough!” she screamed through a hard sob, tears streaming down her face, the gun steadily shaking in her hands.
Nick stiffened. Just for a moment, his face showed genuine fear. Then he cocked his head to the side and laughed.
“What’re you gonna do, sis? Shoot me?” He grabbed the barrel and placed it to his forehead.
“Go ahead, little sis. Blow my head off. Who’s gonna take care of you then, huh? That guy?” Nick motioned to Guts. “You saw how easy it was for me to outsmart him. You wouldn’t last a week out here on the road without me.”
Shelly looked at Guts, then back to Nick.
“C’mon, sissy, just put the gun down. You don’t wanna shoot me. I’m sorry I hit you. I was just mad, OK? Honest mistake.” Nick smiled, then added, “Won’t happen again. Promise.”
Shelly let the gun falter for a moment, then stepped backward and leveled it back to her brother’s face. “No, Nick. You said that last time. Last time you promised no more hitting. You lied.”
“Fucking cunt!” Nick knocked the shotgun away with ease. He grabbed Shelly by the throat, golden foam frothing at the corners of his mouths. He lifted her off the ground with both hands clenched around her tiny neck. The shotgun dropped to the floor.
Shelly made short gasping noises as she clawed uselessly at Nick’s arms in a desperate attempt to free herself.
Nick squeezed harder.
Shelly’s eyes bulged, her face turning a deep purple. “Ni-i-cky, p-please!”
He choked her for a second longer, then abruptly dropped her.
“Fine,” he said in a small child-like voice as Shelly twitched at his feet. “You choose him over me. See if I care! I’m going to his room for supplies. You better say what you have to say to your new lover while you can, ‘cause I’m slitting his fucking throat when I get back.”
He looked at Shelly, all apologies in his eyes.
She looked away, disgusted.
Nick quickly left the room, slamming the door behind him. Shelly and Guts were left in silence, occasionally broken by her weak sobs.
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.