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.


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-“


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

Vampire Guts In Nuke Town Chapter 5

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 3 and chapter 4.

Chapter 5

Catching his breath, pain radiating through his entire core, Guts peered into the large break in the wall. It was not long; in fact, it did not puncture the outer wall of the building. But it was deep. It went down, and down, and down some more.

There was a shaft bored into the floor between the drywall and support beams and the concrete outer wall. It extended much farther down than the weakening light from outside was able to reach, directly into the ground below the motel.

There must be a cavern system beneath this place, Guts thought. This whole time the cocksuckers were under our feet. Listening. Waiting.

Guts looked back behind him, out the shattered window. It would be dark very soon. He couldn’t stay in this place. There was no way of knowing just how many Fangers were underground. Dozens? Hundreds?

They must be malnourished, Guts thought. Otherwise they would never risk coming above ground before dark. They probably hadn’t fed in weeks. Clearly, they’d heard all the insanity playing out up in the room. Those three must have been scouts, sent to the surface to assess the threat level; or maybe they’d gone crazy with bloodlust.

Who knows, Guts thought as he paced around gathering his things; those that weren’t covered in rancid vampire gore, that is. I’ve never seen a Fanger attack during the day. Not once. He limped toward the door, ready to put this whole crazy mess behind him. There was so much vampire blood on the floor, ceiling, and walls that the whole room pulsed intermittently with a glow that bore the unmistakable resemblance to a black-light rave party before The Infestation.

A hand dashed out and grabbed his ankle. Guts leaped back, startled. It was Nick’s hand. The hand attached to his severed arm. The elbow of the dismembered limb flexed, extending the trunk up toward Guts’ face. At the end the torn off limb was a new mouth, gory and misshapen, but apparently capable of speech, as it whispered perfectly clear words:

“Sh-Shelly… Shell-y…”

Guts glanced over at Nick’s mangled corpse.

Unbelievable! Underneath all that desiccated flesh and Fanger gore wasn’t a corpse at all; not quite yet, anyway. His breathing was shallow and barely perceptible, but his remaining eye showed a fiery life as it stared into Guts’ own. At each point where the vampires had torn his flesh, Nick had grown a new mouth. There must have been two dozen little deformed mouths on his face alone. They were all over his broken body like lesions with lips and teeth. When the arm spoke again, his voice issued from every grotesque orifice.

“Y-you… mu-st… h-help my… s-s-sister!”

He was rapidly losing blood. He would be dead in minutes. The detached arm slowly crawled up Guts’ leg. “C-can’t… lea-ve Shelly… h-here…”

Guts looked out the window. It would be full dark in ten minutes. If he walked out there now, in an unknown town, with no shelter in sight, he was as good as dead. He glanced back at the hole in the wall. If he went down that shaft, he was deader than dead.

He plucked the dismembered arm off his leg and chucked it out the broken window.

“Guess you junkies were right, after all,” Guts said, grabbing Nick by the hair, pulling him across the floor toward the hole.

“W-w-what?”Nick managed, in between cries of protest and pain.

“Pog blood. Makes you immune to vampire bites. You’re not changing into a Fanger. That’s good,” Guts said, looking down into Nick’s good eye. “’Cause that just means I can kill you slower.”

By the time they reached the hole in the wall, Nick had stopped crying out, but he was still breathing.

Good, Guts thought. Give those fuckers something to chew on while I run around like a fool trying to get myself killed.

He reached into his bag and pulled an old signal flair out of a pack of five he’d traded a sack of vampire teeth for the last time he’d visited an outpost.

He popped it, filling the room with a horrific redness that only served to intensify the carnage before him. Nick’s eye flicked back and forth in disbelief as Guts pushed the hair out of three mouths on his sweat-and-gore-soaked forehead.

“Calm down, little buddy. This won’t hurt a bit.”

Guts jammed the flair into Nick’s main mouth, then hauled his body over the lip of the hole, sending it bouncing down into the shaft. Nick’s renewed screams echoed dully up into the room as Guts reloaded the shotgun, stuffed it into his large canvas bag, and prepared to descend into the bowels of hell.

Nick was still mumbling and moaning through some of his mouths when he finally made his way into the opening.

Guts smiled. The little incestuous bastard’s got some spunk in him, he thought as he navigated the tiny expanse. The shaft was wide enough for hulking vampires, so he was able to work his way down the hole with relative ease. His biggest hurdle was the fact that he’d lost feeling in his hands somewhere around the time he was tossed out of the room by Mohawk, and the rest of his body hurt so much he wished it was numb, too. Slow going as it was, Guts soon neared the end of the small tunnel.

He stopped ten feet shy of the bottom of the shaft. He estimated that the monsters had bored the hole three stories down into some kind of cave system directly below Room 17.

Guts refused to believe that mindless bloodsucking fiends were capable of such precision and forethought. He was utterly baffled, having never before seen any indication that a vampire’s diseased brain thought about anything more complex than eating, fucking, shitting, and hiding from the sun.

He wasn’t left with his thoughts for long. Nick screamed in horror as a hairy arm shot out and grabbed hold of his useless body.

They took the bait! Guts thought, as Nick was dragged out of sight. That’s what he’d been waiting for. Cautiously, silently, he dropped the rest of the way to the bottom of the shaft. Kneeling like a cat, ignoring the excruciating pain wracking his muscular form, Guts held his breath and looked into the abyss before him, the back of his neck throbbing steadily all the while.

The vampire dragged Nick out into the middle of a large cave.

The ceiling stood easily two stories. The entirety of the large expanse (the best Guts could tell from the dimming light of the nearly spent flair jutting out of Nick’s face) was fifty-odd yards across, with three large openings on the opposite walls leading off into the darkness.

Nick’s whimpers and pleas were finally put to rest when four more vampires loped out of one of the openings, drawn by the smell of fresh blood, and began to savagely feed on his prone and defenseless body.

Guts again silently applauded Nick’s will to live, as, even with five blood suckers ripping and tearing at his broken flesh, he attempted to kick them off. His end came when one of them grabbed him by the head and took a bite out of his face, revealing a puddle of mucus and brains beneath it.

After Nick was drained, it didn’t take long for the creatures to get bored and trot off. Guts waited in the dark for another ten minutes before he dared move. He stepped out into the expanse and lit another flare.

Then dropped it on the floor.

Everywhere—the walls, floors, gigantic ceilings—was covered in the bodies of the most hideously deformed mutants Guts had ever seen. He’d heard the stories, heard survivors drunk on Poog whisper about people so deformed, so unbelievably mutated, that they’d taken to subterranean caverns beneath the ground. He never thought the stories were true, but…

Guts couldn’t believe his eyes. His stomach turned, threatening once again to evacuate its sparse contents as he looked around this tomb of insanity.

Like stalactites jutting hatefully downward from the ceiling were arms frozen in pain; arms with sickle claws in place of fingers, tipped with maniac eyeball clusters. Layered into the dense walls were wide, pale backs, dripping with coarse hairs that would have looked more at home on the legs of a fly, appendages like cancerous growths angling out of spines and off the tops of upside-down-faced heads. Beneath his feet, eyeless faces were packed thick as lumber pallets; faces with teeth on the outside of mouths; noses as large as heads; faces set into chests that bore no neck nor head of their own…

There were tens of thousands of bodies packed into the expansive cavern. This place had seen genocide. An entire community of outcasts decimated by vampires. Their dried up, petrified remains used to decorate their former shelter. Faces twisted in nightmare death masks of pain and suffering danced and taunted Guts, illuminated by the horrific crimson light of his flare.

He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing, and concentrated on the memory of Shelly’s face as the scarred Fanger stole her away into the darkness.

He opened his eyes and walked toward the three passages at the far side of the cyclopean tomb, when he heard a sound that made him give pause: a faint whimper. He froze. It came again; a voice, faint, but clearly female. He quietly pulled the shotgun from his bag and made his way toward the source of the small sound.

Once he’d located its general direction, he crept up to a tall mound of dead mutants, crouched behind it, and waited.

He heard it again.


He spun around from behind the corpse mound, shotgun extended in front of him. She was cowering against the north wall behind a thick muscular leg covered in veiny fingers jutting out from the wall of death. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She was naked, shivering, still whimpering softly. Her eyes were open but vacant, their former depth robbed away at the hands of the scar-faced vampire.

“Come on,” Guts said softly. “I’ve got you. Let’s get outta here.”

She mumbled something Guts couldn’t make out. He leaned closer.



Screeching from above made him snap his head up just in time to see two huge vampires perched on the ceiling, nearly imperceptible nested in the hive of corpses directly above Shelly, launch themselves down toward him. It did not, unfortunately, leave him time to do anything else.

The beasts crashed down on top of his head, knocking him unconscious. Shelly’s hysterical screams were the last thing he heard before consciousness swam away into the warm, inviting darkness.


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

Vampire Guts In Nuke Town Chapter 4

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 3

Chapter 4

Nick’s hand shook with fury. His teeth clenched and relaxed. His eyes bore the gaze of mania as they continued to drip golden tears. Guts heard a crash behind him, and everything on Nick’s face changed to pure terror.

Guts wheeled around just in time to see the mattress that had been propped up against the far wall fall away, revealing a man-sized hole. Out of this hole, stepped three creatures. They resembled gigantic bats more than men. They were nude, and stood at least seven feet tall. They had to stoop to fit into the low ceilinged little room. Their bodies were covered in coarse red hair. From their long bony fingers hung black, talon-like nails. From their massive shoulders sprouted a pair of small rudimentary wing appendages that ended in dagger-like points, curled around next to their heads, and pointed down at their chests like scorpion tails.

Their faces were the worst part: eyes like giant red orbs; mouths full of razor-sharp teeth, jutting in all directions like nightmare spokes on a bicycle wheel; noses short and pulled up against their faces, as though they’d smashed their heads against a brick wall until it was all flattened out; and ears long and pointed, jutting backward like antennae. Monsters. Vampires.

The three beasts sucked in huge breaths of air through their hateful snouts. They coughed and grunted at one another as they surveyed the contents of the room, their demoniac red eyes registering hunger as they landed on Guts, Shelly, and Nick.

Guts reacted as quickly as he could, but in addition to looking like shit thrown up from the bowels of hell, vampires were also fast. Deadly fast.

Guts pushed Shelly behind him, putting himself between the defenseless girl and the creatures, but he wasn’t fast enough. The vampire in the middle stayed put but, but those on either side flanked out, easily rushing past Guts, knocking the shotgun free of his hands as they passed.

A trap! thought Guts. A fucking trap inside a trap! The whole time Nick and Shelly thought they were ambushing me, these monsters were lying in wait for the perfect time to strike! Un-fucking-believable!

Vampires weren’t supposed to be this clever. They were giant beasts made of killing, nothing more. Using a few simple rules and doing his best to stay out of open darkness, Guts had managed to avoid any conflict with the beasts except on his own terms. This was different. This kind of strategic thinking chilled him to the core.

What’s changed? he thought. They must be as desperate as us. Starving. Looking for any way to score a meal.

The two flanking vampires pounced on Nick, choosing the lone target as a crocodile would a stray deer standing too close to the water’s edge.

He still stood frozen just inside the door, too shocked at the monsters’ sudden appearance to mount any kind of meaningful defense. He stood no chance. These feral beasts were expert killing machines. The virus that had mutated humans into nightmare creatures left nothing to chance. Everything about them was designed to rend, tear, and kill. Raptors with opposable thumbs.

One hit Nick at the head, the other at the waist. He crumpled to the floor without getting off a single shot from the revolver. The beast at his head sunk its fangs into his face, making short work of his left eye and nose. In two bites, he was no longer recognizable, only a bleeding, screaming, thrashing smear.

The vampire at his waist didn’t seem to mind that Nick had shit himself on the way down. It ripped through Nick’s pink belly with one powerful swipe of its razor-sharp hand. It buried its foul head all the way into Nick’s trunk, causing his body to flop comically this way and that, making him dance in time to the sounds of its slurping and chomping away at his entrails.

Guts shielded Shelly from this horror as the vampire at Nick’s head grew tired of eating his face, and instead bit clean through his left arm, tossing it aside like overcooked gristle as it lapped at the blood gushing from the limb’s mangled stump.

The monster in front of Shelly and Guts let out a high-pitched screech and began to move forward, ready to separate the pair. It stood another foot taller than its companions, a truly massive beast. In addition to its increased size and general additional ferociousness, this vampire sported a thick white mane atop its gruesome, fang-filled face that stood straight up, resembling a great Mohawk.

Guts quickly knelt, scooping up the discarded shotgun from the floor. His broken ribs screamed in protest, slowing his movement down just enough for the creature to capitalize. Had it not been for his injuries, he might have been fast enough to block the vampire’s attack.

Instead, as Guts stood on groaning legs, Mohawk made quick work of the five or six steps remaining between them. It dug its huge claws deep into Guts’ shoulder as the much smaller man stood upright.

Guts screamed as Mohawk tossed him across the room like an angry child flinging a broken doll. Guts hit the makeshift Poog-making table upside down, smashing it in half with his head and shoulders. He landed in the pile of dead Pogs with a loud splat, crushing their decomposing bodies. The noxious smell threatened to overcome him as he picked himself out of the puddle of golden ichor as quickly as his injuries allowed.

Mohawk had already begun to charge him. As it cleared the space between them, it opened its jaws impossibly wide and screeched.

Guts felt the strain on his eardrums as they threatened to give. He could smell the thing’s rotten breath from where he stood, adding to the garbage bin odor permeating his nostrils.

Ignoring his battered body, Guts thrust the shotgun forward, perfectly timing Mohawk’s advance. The barrel sunk into the vampire’s disgusting face, surprise washing over its gnarly features.

Guts pulled the trigger. “Suck it, ugly.”

Nothing happened.

Fucking hell! Guts thought. The Pog blood must have saturated the ammunition. Guts frantically pulled the trigger again and again with the same results. Mohawk wrenched the shotgun free of its maw, grabbed Guts by the arm, and flung him through the tarp into the open sunlight.

Guts scrambled free from the thick cloth, managing to dislodge all of himself except his left leg. He stood up, emptying the ammo into his hand as he did so. As he’d suspected, the shells were coated in golden slime.

Shelly screamed from inside the room as the Mohawk’s companions finished chowing down on Nick, advancing on her instead.

With no time to lose, Guts wiped the gunk from the shells onto his pants. He shoved the first one back into the chamber before he was violently yanked from his feet. The second shell flew out of Guts’ hand, landing well out of retrieval range. The end of the tarp had remained inside the room safely within the shadows. Mohawk was hauling Guts back inside, the angry sneer across its ugly face making its intentions quite clear. With one more violent tug, Guts was pulled through the decayed opening, back into the cover of darkness.

Mohawk grabbed him by the throat, lifting him six inches off the ground. As it reared back to land a finishing blow, Guts planted the shotgun against its left eye and held his breath, anticipating a violent death.

He squeezed the trigger.

Although nearly half the creature’s head was blown free in the blast of buckshot, it didn’t seem to faze the beast a bit. Chunks of brain, an eyeball, pieces of skull, and a torrent of the nightmare-black, glowing gore that served as vampire blood plastered the ceiling and rained down into the small room.

White mane hanging sickly to one side, eye socket gaping, bits of its own teeth stuck in its ruined face, the vampire struck down with its prehensile wing-limbs, stabbing Guts in both shoulders, pinning him to the spot. With all its weight, Mohawk crushed Guts to the floor, gushing black-light blood all over him.

Head spinning from unbelievable pain, Guts felt himself beginning to black out. Only the sight of the other two monsters chasing Shelly up onto the bed gave him the strength to unsheathe his knife and jam it straight up into the heart of the great monster above him.

Impossible buckets of liquid spilled all over him. He twisted the knife, wrenching a trench in the monster’s chest. Its blood completely obscured his vision as the bulk above him writhed and screeched in violent death throes.

Yanking the spikes out of his shoulders, Guts tossed the convulsing heap off him. It shuddered once more, then died.

Shelly wailed as the two smaller monsters cornered her against the wall.“Fucking help me, Guts!!!”

He wiped the gore from his eyes, grabbed the shotgun, and charged forward; ruined body be damned. The smaller of the two beasts (a real ugly thing with short, muscular arms) saw him first. It dove off the bed, putting itself between him and Shelly.

Guts flipped the shotgun around, grabbing it by the barrel, and clocked the vampire right in its hateful mutated face with an arching, sideways blow, sending the creature sprawling toward the door and window. As it sprang to its feet, Guts flipped his knife full-force, impaling the vampire in its abdomen. This action did not kill the beast, but the force of the blow launched it the rest of the way across the room, slamming it against the window. Great spurts of blood issued from the wound, covering Nick’s lifeless body until his mangled features were completely obscured.

Guts stepped forward and pulled the trigger of the shotgun.

Shit, Guts thought, forgetting he was out of ammo.

The vampire roared, flexing its huge arms. It stomped forward, raising its claws, ready to strike.

In response, Guts smiled.

The monster only got one more step before Guts threw the shotgun as hard as he could through the window. A blast of deep pink, nearly purple dusk-light poured through the broken glass, enveloping the vampire, trapping the wounded monster within its strange embrace.

Immediately, the coarse hair on its back and arms singed and burned away. It cried out with the loudest, highest pitched screech yet, causing Guts to cover his surely bleeding ears. Its dark brown skin wrinkled and turned black. Smoke coiled off it like a burning pile of plastic in thick, dark grey wisps. The vampire collapsed to the floor, trying to hide its face from the radiation light as its skin began to slough off in sheets, revealing boiling black blood underneath.

Guts covered his face and gagged once again. This smell trumped all of the noxious odors in the room, combining burning rubber, rotten fish, and soiled diapers. It trapped itself in the back of Guts’ throat, causing him to taste it every time he swallowed back the bile rising from his belly.

All at once, the gory heap exploded, sending its baked flesh and soupy blood in all directions. The entire room was splattered with sticky, goopy vampire remains.

Unrecognizable parts of its companion oozed down the walls and rained down from the ceiling as the final beast—with a flailing, kicking, screaming Shelly in its embrace—made a desperate dive off the bed and into the mouth of the hole in the wall from whence it came, escaping the sunlight, having only suffered heavy burns across the side of its face and left arm. Shelly cried out for Guts one last time before the monster disappeared into the blackness of the hole. She locked eyes with him, terrified.

Guts bolted after them on weak legs, but stopped at the wall. It was too late. They were gone.


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