Vampire Guts In Nuke Town Chapter 7

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 5, and chapter 6.


Chapter 7

Guts knew it was far too late to save her. He only hoped there was still time to end her suffering. Just as he entered the cave, he heard his name called, and everything that made sense to him in this fucked up world came to an end.

At first, he thought he was hearing things, hallucinating from his extensive injuries and exhaustion. Perhaps from the massive dumps of adrenaline his body had been forced to feed his brain for the better part of the day. When he heard it again, his blood turned cold.

“Charles Bidmore,” the voice said. Clear as day.

The sound shook Guts to his core. No one knew his name; not anyone living. That name died when The Infestation took his family, took everyone he ever knew, took the entirety of civilization in the blink of an eye.

The voice had come from deep inside the cave. He stood still for a moment longer, dumbfounded, staring down the well-lit corridor in front of him.

Impossibility on top of impossibility. The voice he heard was human. There was no way a human was still alive down here, not in the heart of a vampire nest thousands strong. And yet… someone had called to him. Guts walked toward its source, down the long cavern, until he reached a sharp bend. He rounded the corner and lost all capacity for rational thought.

The scene before him made absolutely no logical sense. He was now inside a brightly lit white room. Its walls were plastic, the floors a nondescript cream-colored tile, and the drop ceiling contained harsh florescent light fixtures that were on. In front of him stood a white desk with two chairs placed in front of it. Across from him was a floor-to-ceiling mirror, showing him, mouth agape as he stared back at himself.

Guts was inside some impossible… office.

But more than that, he was standing inside an office seemingly built inside an underground cavern some two stories below the surface. This he could almost accept, however unlikely. What he could not accept was what sat behind the desk.

With its arms folded neatly across its chest, leaning back in a high-backed, white leather chair, was a vampire dressed in an immaculate white suit and red tie; the very same vampire with half its face burned off from their scuffle up in the motel room.

This was madness, pure and simple.

“Please, Mr. Bidmore,” the vampire said in a snobbish, aristocratic voice. “Have a seat. You look like hell warmed over.” The creature motioned with a hairy black-taloned hand toward one of the empty chairs in front of the desk.

Guts crashed down hard into the chair. His body felt like lead, the back of his neck pulsing harder than ever. Each beat exploded in his ears. Thump. Thump. Thump! He gripped the sides of his head, knowing finally that the madness of this radioactive world had closed in on him.

Scarface leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the desk, hands clasped together, forming a steeple, his lipless, fanged mouth gently touching the tips of his taloned fingers.

“Now, Mr. Bidmore, I’m sure you’re wondering just what in the blue blazes is going on here. And rightfully so.”

Guts looked up at the creature, mouth hanging slack-jawed, disbelief painted on his face.

The vampire continued. “I assure you this will all make perfect sense in short order.”

Guts opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then started again. “How the FUCK are you sitting here in a fucking three piece suit, talking to me like English god damn royalty??? And how the fuck do you know my name? No one knows my name!”

“The short answer, Mr. Bidmore? The short answer is very simple. I am here, like this, speaking to you, because you willed it so.”

Guts stared blankly at the creature, then spoke. “You wanna know what I think, Fanger?”

“Certainly, Mr. Bidmore.”

“I think I’m a god damn raving lunatic, sitting on the floor of a vampire hive, having a polite conversation with an imaginary talking Fanger, just waiting for another one of those god forsaken breeder bitches to waddle her fat ass in here to pump me full of bloodsucker babies!”

“Come now, my dear Mr. Bidmore. I promise you, nothing of the sort is going to happen. Not now that you’re… aware.”

“Aware of what? And how the fuck do you know my name???” Guts was panting. Sweat poured from his face, his hands shaking.

“One question at a time, Mr. Bidmore. I know more than simply your name. I know everything about you. I know that before the plague you humans call The Infestation, you were a family man. A wife and two daughters, yes? You were a paramedic in San Diego, California, when such a place still existed. You earned your nickname Guts when a gangbanger that had been shot jumped off the gurney, gutted you with a knife the police had failed to find on his person, and proceeded to strangle you with your own intestines. Had you not been such an… imposing physical specimen, you’d have died.

“I know that during the final wave of The Infestation, when society collapsed, your wife and children were mutilated and left for dead. By the time you were able to navigate the chaos and return home, your wife had turned. She was eating your youngest when you burst through the front door, yes? You had to kill your own wife, Mr. Bidmore. And your oldest daughter; when she changed, you murdered her as well. That’s how you found out you were immune to the vampire virus, correct? You let your daughter bite you, but you didn’t change. You couldn’t join your family, so you murdered them to put them out of their misery.”

Guts stared at the paradox before him. In a small voice, he asked, “How?”

“How I know these things, how I, a feral beast motivated only by the primal urge to feed and to kill, can speak to you in this manner, is because you willed it so.”

“I don’t understand,” Guts said, slowly.

The creature stood, pushed its chair in, and began pacing with its hands clasped behind its back.

“What if I told you that all of this was your creation? The Infestation, the vampires, the nuclear mutations, all of it. What if the cause of The Infestation was not a virus, but a thought in your own mind? What if I told you, Mr. Bidmore, that you are God incarnate, experiencing life through living flesh, and you’ve just become aware of it?”

Guts sat for a moment longer before standing.

“I’d say you’d better be satisfied with that piece of shit story, ‘cause it’s the last one you’re ever gonna tell, bloodsucker!”

In a flash, Guts was on the vampire, slamming its head against the white wall. He gathered the beast up by the collar of its expensive suit.

“Mr. Bidmore!” the vampire squealed.

“Charles Bidmore is dead! You fang fuckers killed him! My name is Guts! Do you hear me? Fucking Guts!”

Guts choked the monster harder, causing its eyes to bulge. Weakly, it choked out words. “I-It’s true, Guts! You are the living God! You c-created this Hell on… Earth! You can kill me if you wish. I live only to serve you, my lord!”

Guts dropped the vampire and turned his back to it. His neck issued jolts of pain through his body. He reached up to discover that a bulge had formed just beneath the base of his skull.

“I’m God, huh?”

The beast stood, smoothing out its suit. It straightened its tie. “Yes, Guts. You chose to come back to this world, to end it for the grievous sins it has inflicted upon its people. You chose to take the form of a man to witness its end firsthand. You chose to wipe your own memory so that the experience would be pure, so it would be just. You brought me with you, so that I could guide you back to the heavenly paradise from whence you came.”

“And how,” Guts asked, “are you supposed to do that?”

The vampire looked nervous now. Glowing, opaque sweat beaded on its brown, wrinkled forehead.

“Sacrifice, my Lord.”

“Sacrifice?” Guts turned toward the creature.

“Yes, my Lord. You must perform a blood sacrifice. You must take the life of one you love to show your belief in your divinity, for death is not the end, not when you will it.”

“Everyone I love is already dead.”

Scarface gulped. “Only if you will it so, Lord. If you want it badly enough, someone you love will walk through that same door you entered.”

“It’s the eyes, you know.”

“Beg pardon, Lord?”

“It’s the eyes I hate the most.” Guts grabbed the beast by its ugly face, wrenched open its left eye, pulled out his knife, and stabbed down hard, impaling the red orb on the end of the sharp blade. The monster wailed in agony as Guts turned the knife, scraping the frontal lobe of its brain. He pushed it hard to the left, poking through the beast’s other eye from the back. Guts smacked the handle, pushing the eyeball and a torrent of black blood out of its socket, stuck to the knife like a piece of meat on a cabob. The vampire slumped to the floor, dead.

“There’s your fucking sacrifice.”

Guts wiped his hands on the ruined, brackish suit that only moments ago had been speckled white. He turned to walk back the way he’d come, back into the tomb of dead mutants, when he froze.

What stood in the doorway caused Guts to stumble backward and grab hold of the desk behind him. After everything that had happened today, this was an amazing feat. In the doorway stood Shelly and Nick, quietly watching the scene unfold, bemused smiles on their faces. Faces totally free of trauma. Not a scratch adorned them. They stepped into the room. Shelly spoke first.

“He was right, you know.” She smiled again, no sign of the ruined body, the torn face.

Impossibility on top of impossibility topped with paradox.

Guts looked at her, confused.

She continued. “You really are God here. This is your world, Guts. You made it. And we are here to serve you.” She dropped to her knees before Guts and unbuttoned his pants.

Guts’ head reeled. “How…? This… all of this… makes… no sense.”

“Scarface told you, silly boy. We exist because you will it so. You can kill us and resurrect us as many times as you want. Your wish is our desire.” She pulled his cock out of his pants and swallowed its length to its root.

Nick spoke next as he walked over to stand next to his sister.

“Hey bro,” he said from two mouths on his cheeks. “No hard feelings, right?” He pulled his dick out and began masturbating in his sister’s face.

Guts let out a maniacal laugh. All traces of sanity were gone. He was freefalling through the abyss of madness. “No hard feelings, right!?” Guts cackled another insane laugh. “Sorry I threw you down that shaft! Ahahahahaha!!!”

Nick dribbled pre-cum across the bridge of Shelly’s nose, causing her to spike out, once again. She smiled around Guts’ thickness as she continued to pleasure him.

“Don’t apologize,” Nick said. “You are my lord and master. I live only to serve you.” He reached down and unsheathed Guts’ knife from his boot. “And I’ll die for you as many times as you wish it.” He put the knife to his throat, slicing it slowly. Blood streamed down his chest onto his cock, acting as an obscene lubricant as he continued to work its length with his free hand.

As the blade crossed his esophagus, Nick began choking, sickly wheezing through the gaping hole in his throat. He ejaculated across Shelly’s cheek and mouth just before he collapsed to the ground, dead again.

Guts wept now, crying out in big sobs.

Shelly took him out of her mouth, her brother’s semen dripping from her lips. “Don’t cry, sire. This will all be over soon. Kill me and you can return to your Heaven. You can transform this place into anything you want. You can live with your family again there. Your wife and little girls. Or you can make things the way they were before The Infestation, just go on living like it never happened, even wipe this whole memory from your mind once again. Bliss, Lord. Just kill me and it’s all yours.”

She pried the knife from Nick’s dead fingers and handed it to Guts.

“Do not fear death, my Lord. This is the beginning of forever! Let me show you.”

She took his cock back into her mouth, working him with both hands, bringing him closer to climax.

Guts’ eyes rolled in his head. He grabbed Shelly by the hair. She lifted his hand to her throat. He began screaming as she used his hand to saw through her tiny neck.

He came in her mouth as her body fell limp to the floor. He felt the lightness of her severed head as the final ropes of his orgasm blasted down her gaping throat onto the floor.

He raised her head up to meet his gaze, but he was no longer holding Shelly’s head. It was her face, cut off and covering the severed head of a Pog.

“Woooop! Woooooooop!” it said.

Guts dropped it and backed up against the wall. The corpse of Scarface stood slowly. Eyeless and covered in gore, it reached behind its head and… unzipped it.

“Woooop!” it said as it peeled its true Pog body out of the ruined suit of vampire skin. “Wooooooop!”

Nick stood next. “Woop!” It peeled the fake human body from its squat form. “Woooooop!”

Guts screamed again. Suddenly, he was aware of the painful, pulsating lump on the back of his neck. This time he felt something, just under the skin. He raised the knife and violently hacked at his neck. He dug his fingers into the bloody mess and found… a zipper.

He pulled it up, feeling his head and face fall against his chest. Turning to the mirror hung against the far wall, he saw his own hideous Pog face staring back at him.

He tried to scream again, but all he heard come out of his wide, silly mouth was, “Wooooop! Woooop! WOOOOOOP!”

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was not in Heaven.

***

What he saw made no sense at all (but little did after what he’d just witnessed, so he didn’t get upset about it). Madness has a way of calming the nerves. He opened his eyes and saw, not his own face as a Pog staring at him, but instead a grimy ceiling. The motel room ceiling he’d woken up in that morning.

A throbbing pain in his extremities caused him to look down and see a vampire latched to each of his wrists and both of his ankles, eagerly feasting on his life’s blood.

He tried to turn his head, but found that something was holding it firmly in place. Panic finally seized him when he became fully aware of his situation. He was disoriented, yes, but his memories came flooding back into him like water through a broken levy.

No, a voice said inside his head: the voice of Scarface the vampire. Go back to sleep. Dream of your family. Dream of anything you want!

He closed his eyes, and Karen was there. And the girls. They waited for him at the front door of their house. Human. Safe. Little Emily waved to him.

“No!”

False memories. He opened his eyes. He was back in the room, restrained, still being fed on like a living steak. His eyes sagged again. He bit his tongue as hard as he could. He bit until he tasted blood. The pain brought him back to full consciousness.

He remembered everything.

***

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.

Vampire Guts In Nuke Town Chapter 2

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

vampgutsfree

Chapter 2

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!?”

“Nicky, no!”

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.