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.

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 6

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 4 and chapter 5


Chapter 6

When he came to, he was restrained by the pair of bloodsuckers. They held him to the mutant-corpse floor by both arms, their heavy bodies crushing down on his shoulders, threatening to rip them from their sockets. His bag lay discarded mere feet away; might as well have been miles.

He strained up with all his power, screaming out. It was no use, the monsters weighed twice as much as him. They pushed their knees into his back, maintaining enough leverage to hold Guts completely still. He thrashed once more before going limp, accepting the futility of spending any more energy.

Why don’t they kill me? Guts thought. Makes no sense!

Guts had killed hundreds, thousands of these animalistic creatures. They did not use reason or rational thought. They were driven by pure instinct and an insatiable lust for human blood. Burrowing tunnel traps, kidnapping, restraining humans, ambushes… there was a calculated method to all of this that Guts had never seen out of vampires. The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Shelly screamed again. Guts snapped his attention back to the present. She was held against the wall twenty or so feet in front of him, just to the right of the first of the three openings in the far wall. Two vampires held her, snapping and snarling in her face, but made no move to attack. They were waiting for something. But what?

When that something arrived, it took everything Guts possessed mentally and emotionally from slipping into madness.

It started as a distant clicking noise coming from deep within the cave system. The noise quickly grew louder and louder, until Guts thought the cacophony of clicks, now accompanied by grunts, snarls, and screeches, would drive him mad. What emerged from the mouth of the closest opening nearly did.

The clicking noise was actually the sound of a dozen vampires crawling across the floor. Their talons strained against the petrified mutant corpses from the weight of their cargo. Riding atop the backs of these dozen beasts was a living nightmare. A vampire, yes, but like none Guts had ever seen before. His body went numb at the sight of its hideous form.

Instead of coarse red hair like other Fangers, its smooth, hairless body was a golden brown, with skin as thick as an elephant’s. If a typical vampire stood heads above a human, this monstrosity must have been quadruple that. It lay on its back, using the vampires beneath it as some obscene living throne. Its enormous head and neck were buried under three leathery chins. Twin ropey, slimy tongues lulled off to the sides of its huge open mouth, slopping yellowish foam onto the creatures below. Its lower mandible split in the middle, each side of its jaw, covered in jagged fangs jutting in every direction, pulsed back and forth, as if in anticipation. In place of its eyes were two thick, veined stalks jutting upward hatefully, ending in a hideous pair of lidless, unblinking orbs serving as eyeballs. In the middle of its tall, wrinkled forehead sat one more eye, this one somehow even more menacing than the others. From off the sides of its gigantic head came, long, slender legs covered in black hairs, resembling spider legs that swayed back and forth.

Unbelievably, this bizarre mutation’s head was not the worst part. Its bulbous, pulsating stomach, jutting upward and containing at least two thirds of the mass of the entire giant vampire’s body, took that title. Its short, squat arms and legs, no longer capable of supporting the weight of the thing, stuck out of the sides of the pumpkin-shaped stomach, layered in purple veins that seemed to writhe around underneath its skin. A pair of fat tits hung off to each side, the enormous areolas slick with slime. The stomach ended in a coned tip, almost like that of a volcano. From the mouth of this strange orifice spewed more of that disgusting yellow gunk that sloughed off the sides of the belly and onto the vampires below in great gobs.

The whole ghastly procession came to a halt in front of Shelly in an extremely violent fashion. The giant Fanger grunted and gyrated until the creatures below it stopped. It struggled off of the half-dozen vampires in the rear, landing directly on top of the half-dozen in front, smashing them beneath its sizable girth. Gore and shit shot out underneath its mass in a great splat, an unfortunate few surviving long enough to shriek out cries of terror and pain before coughing up their intestines, bleeding out, and falling silent.

The freakish mutant-vampire, now seated on its wide ass, reached out, gently brushing its pudgy, clawed paw across Shelly’s face. She wailed in disgust. Unbelievably, the monster let out a guttural laugh. It was conscious, sentient, possessing an intelligence Guts knew was simply impossible. Yet here it was, kneading Shelly’s naked breasts with one hand while rubbing its fat belly with the other.

She shuddered in disgust, shrinking away as far as her captors would allow.

Guts pulled and wrenched his arms to the point that his joints strained and threatened to snap, but he was held fast.

Why are they making me watch this? he thought. Why don’t they just kill us? Why play games with their food?

It made no sense, no sense at all… until the giant’s stomach folded back into four neat flaps. Something in Shelly’s young mind snapped, as though she’d already anticipated the horrors to come. Guts had not, but his confusion did not last long.

Out of the fat vampire’s wide-open belly slithered five wet, slimy, pulsating yellow tentacles. The creature’s obese head lulled back. Its undulating eye stalks unfocused and sagged. It seemed to be in some kind of trance, letting the tentacles take over control of its body.

They writhed, slowly crawling up to Shelly’s body with sensitive delicacy, leaving that thick yellow slime in their wake. Shelly gagged and pulled away from their slug-like embrace, straining against the two huge vampires’ grasp.

Suddenly, the tentacles sprang upright, stiff, poised like snakes. The two Fangers holding Shelly pried her legs apart. She wailed and thrashed until one of the tendrils shot forward with uncanny speed and precision. It jammed its tip into Shelly’s mouth. Her eyes grew cloudy as madness washed over her, taking her mind completely. The tentacle wormed its way further into Shelly’s mouth, forcing itself into her throat. The remaining tentacles swayed with some internal rhythm as the big vampire drooled, deep in its trance.

Guts thrashed anew, trying in desperation to break the Fangers’ vice-like hold. “Take me! Let the girl go!” he wailed. His bowels roiled as he bucked and squirmed. If only he could get to his knife… he could put an end to all of this.

His protests were met with a gigantic hand smashing his face into the mutant-ground. He felt a tooth crack free as his head was ground further into the granite-like flesh underneath him.

Another tendril rocketed forward, plunging into Shelly’s nether regions. At this point, the two monsters holding her let go. Shelly was now suspended in air by these two grotesque phalluses penetrating her body. She was conscious, unbelievably. Her eyes darted back and forth as she realized her captors had let her go, allowing the wormish tentacles to have their way with her.

She grasped the tentacle invading her mouth with both hands in an attempt to free herself. Two of the three remaining tendrils whipped out, lashing around her wrists, breaking her hold. The third shot down and inserted itself into her anus. Now all of her orifices were filled with the yellow, ropey appendages. They continued their odd swaying, which now caused Shelly to move with them in some twisted parody of a dance. There was a grotesque gracefulness to the movement, a hypnotic, almost soothing gesture that, coupled with the fading light of Guts’ dying flare, looked almost beautiful.

Hideously, as this violation reached its crescendo, Shelly transformed once again into her spiny, mutant self. The tentacles were, against her will, causing her to orgasm, over and over again. She moaned in a sick combination of pain, terror, and ecstasy, her hips matching the gyrations of the offending appendages beat for beat.

Then, abruptly breaking the trance, came an oval-shaped object from deep within the gaping stomach. It slowly made its way up the length of the tendril invading Shelly’s mouth. She eyed it the entire time, screaming around the massive flesh in her mouth, tears streaming down her face. The object forced its way past her lips and down her throat. Similar lumps appeared at the bases of the rest of the tentacles penetrating her body, and then made their way inside of her.

To his horror, Guts realized that these oval-shaped objects must be…

Eggs!

The realization shot jolts of panic through his entire aching body. He broke out in a cold sweat, the implications dawning on him at once.

We’re not food! his mind screamed in terror. These bastards are using us to breed!

It suddenly made perfect sense. The morbidly obese horror was some kind of breeder mutation. The pain-wracked faces on the cavern corpses were not from feeding, they were from breeding! Now he saw the exploded throats, stomachs and even skulls from where these monstrous eggs had hatched. Guts was inside of a vampire nest, and the thing that undulated before him was a queen! Those Pogs in front of the motel, they weren’t attacking him or warning him about Nick and Shelly. They were trying to communicate the vast nesting ground of vampires directly below his feet!

My God! Guts thought, his mind racing. They’re down here infesting humans! Humans immune to the vampire virus!

Judging by the amount of pulsating lumps worming their way into Shelly’s convulsing body, each person impregnated by this mutant queen could birth a dozen or more of these…what were they? Drone vampires? Guts noticed now that the creatures surrounding the queen had no sex organs. Like cockroaches, these vampires were down here breeding by the tens of thousands!

Adapting, Guts thought. They’re running out of humans to feed off of, to change into more vampires. They’ve been forced to adapt or starve to death. They had evolved into a self-sustaining race of parasitic organisms! But through what method? Was the mutated DNA so malleable that something like this could happen simply from starvation?

As Guts’ mind was torn to shreds with this epiphany, Shelly’s body was experiencing a similar violence. She was being filled so full of vampire eggs, her belly had ballooned to three times its normal size. Rips and tears crisscrossed its length. Flesh and muscle strained beyond its means with its new living cargo. Similarly, her cheeks were now split into an obscene smile to accommodate the passage of the vile eggs.

After what seemed like an eternity of torture, the tentacles withdrew in one quick motion, dropping Shelly to the floor with a sickening thud. Her two drone captors grabbed her by the arms and dragged her ruined body toward the cave mouth from where the queen had come. Just before she was pulled from sight, she locked eyes once again with Guts. Her gaze was unrecognizable, totally overcome with madness and terror. She was broken beyond any hope of saving. The girl Guts had fallen for was gone. Only a fleshy shell, host to tiny monsters, remained.

He was alone. Again.

Guts was pulled to his feet, the next intended victim of the vampire queen. The six remaining drones labored to raise the horror off of their squashed brothers and sisters. They were able to get “her” up and over their heads and across the short space relatively easily. They stopped directly in front of Guts, and seemed to have a handle on their cargo, until the drone furthest to the left slipped on a puddle of gore and slime, losing its balance completely. The whole lot of them joined their relatives in oblivion as the queen crashed down on top of them, splattering their innards across Guts and his two captors. The queen let out a booming laugh as she settled into the mess of writhing, flailing flesh beneath her.

Guts poured sweat. Waves of terror wracked his body. He could not get those eyes—Shelly’s eyes, as she disappeared into the cave mouth—out of his mind. He was still held by both arms, a drone on each side, as he looked up into the face of nightmare death before him.

She massaged her belly again, preparing to enter the trance that would mean Guts’ death; a horrifying death caused by a score of vampire fetuses eating their way through his innards; a death Shelly would be experiencing soon.

The queen’s head drooped, her eye stalks sagged, her mouth dropped open, and her stomach peeled back. The tendrils crept their way out from inside her wet depths.

Guts drew in a deep breath and held it. The first tentacle shot toward his mouth. Calling upon the very last bit of energy reserves that his exhausted, broken body could muster, Guts flipped backward, kicking the tendril back the way it had come with almost inhuman timing.

The wretched thing slammed directly into the queen’s open mouth, causing her eye stalks to snap back to attention, the one in her forehead wide with surprise and horror. She pawed at the tentacle with both hands, but her stout little appendages were too short to reach all the way to her face. Her strange reproductive organs acted with a will all their own. They snatched her arms away as they began to pump eggs from deep within her bowels, down her throat. She let out a guttural, primal scream that shook the mutant corpses loose from the ceiling, threatening to rain them down on her own head.

Guts’ flip finally broke him free from the drones’ grasp. He landed behind them, right in front of his bag. He snatched up the shotgun and, wasting no time, unloaded a blast of buckshot point blank in the back of the first drone’s head before either of them had a chance to turn around. Its face exploded outward, the black, glowing gore splattering all over the queen, lighting her up like some sick parody of a spotlight.

The second drone flipped around, razor teeth bared. It screeched and launched its massive body forward. Guts unsheathed his knife and spun around, using the forward motion of the vampire against it. Its throat exploded in a torrent of gore as Guts slashed through its meaty flesh nearly through to the back of its neck. Guts jammed the barrel of the shotgun up violently, tearing through the thin membrane of its lower mandible, and fired, sending its brain matter clear to the ceiling in a glowing fountain of chunky gunk.

That left Guts face to face with the obese monster responsible for Shelly’s horrific death. The queen was still thrashing about. Unbelievably, her grotesque bulk had grown in size as the tentacle in her mouth unloaded its cargo into her stomach, which was nearing its bursting point.

Cartridges spent, Guts dropped the shotgun and approached the incapacitated freakshow with caution. He snatched one of the swaying tendrils out of the air and climbed up onto the enormous beast. Standing on the distended stomach, he grabbed the back of the nightmare monster’s head.

The queen’s eye stalks focused in Guts’ direction, and panic radiated out of the glowing red orb in the middle of its forehead. Guts decided in that moment, that of all the things there were to hate about these ugly, murderous horrors, it was the eyes that he hated most.

He smashed the tentacle’s pointy tip deep in the queen’s middle eye socket, putting an end to the redness, but not the glowing, as a fresh torrent of blacklight blood ejaculated from the wound, covering Guts’ head and face anew. The queen screeched out again through the tubular protrusion blocking her multi-segmented mouth, somehow louder than before. Guts had to grab his ears to keep his brain from turning to mush.

The tendril stuck in her eye socket wormed its way deeper into her head. Cracking and fracturing the bone structure of her face. Her body finally went limp as the eggs began to pump their way into her brainpan. Guts dismounted her fat body and backed away, completely covered in vampire bodily fluid.

Without warning, the queen’s head, under enormous pressure from the eggs now dumping in through her eye hole, exploded out in a great geyser of brain matter, egg pieces, and torrents of blood.

It was over. Guts was alone, standing in the great mutant tomb. He dropped to his knees, completely spent, physically and emotionally exhausted, well past his breaking point. His head sagged, his shoulders slumped. Darkness threatened the sides of his vision as his consciousness swam. He was about to let go, about to sleep, totally oblivious to the dangers that threatened. That’s when he heard it.

A cacophony of screeches and clicks. The cavern shook from the sheer volume of it.

No.

Dozens of glowing red orbs poured from the nearest cave mouth, then dozens more from the middle, and even more from the far cave mouth. A new queen emerged on the backs of drones. Then another. And another.

Drones swarmed the walls, the ceiling. The queen’s final cry must have signaled the rest of the hive deep within the bowels of the nest. Howls, screeches, screams, and worse consumed the vast space.

If Guts had been a normal man, this would have been his end. If he only had guns and knives at his disposal, he would have stood no chance against the vast army of monsters before him. But Guts was no normal man. He was a mutant. And the weapon he possessed was unlike anything these vampires had ever seen before.

He stood, ran his fingers across the scar on his stomach. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath to center his focus, even as he felt the rancid breath of monsters on his face as they converged on him, fangs and claws bared, lusting after the killing strike.

The tattooed horns on the sides of his head unfurled, took volume, coalesced, and finally stood tall and firm, jutting out a full foot on either side, spindly legs wiggling.

In one quick stroke, he slashed his belly wide open, spilling heaps of blood and intestines onto the cave floor. He leaned backward, spread his arms wide, and unleashed the fury into the throng of beasts before him.

All at once, the slick ropes of intestines came to life. Three drones dropped from the ceiling just above Guts’ head. His exposed entrails gathered into three loops that shot up off the ground, seemingly with a will of their own, and plucked the beasts out of the air by their throats. The vampires were slammed together back to back. The intestines tightened, bulging their beady red eyes. They clawed at the flesh with their killing talons to no effect. The spots where they slashed shot blood and shit into the air, and then healed closed just as quickly as they were opened.

Guts clenched his stomach muscles. The three loops constricted, popping the Fangers’ heads off like wine corks. Their bodies crashed to the floor, crushing a pack of vamps charging forward. Their thick black blood rained down from the sky.

More entrails poured out from Guts’ open wound. Like great whips, they slashed back and forth, splitting vampire faces, dismembering limbs, exploding chests. Soon, the war cries were replaced with howls of pain.

Still more intestines spilled from Guts’ stomach. Yards of slick, bloody guts thrashed and circled around his body. From floor to ceiling, great coils swirled and gyrated, protecting him from any attacks the vampires tried to muster. As quickly as they advanced, they were snatched from the floor, thrown against walls with the speed of car accidents, sent high into the air and dropped to splat against the floor, pulled apart limb from limb, and smashed together like bugs against windshields.

In moments, the advancing army of vampires was reduced to bloody, ruined corpses. The queens were dropped to the floor, left to fend for themselves. The drones ran for the cave mouths, their only means of escape. The killing flesh slithered along the floor like gory snakes, plucking drones up by the feet, flinging them like toy soldiers.

The queens did their best to crawl and flop away from the advancing death. The entrails rolled them up in thick coils like anacondas and squeezed until they squirted their hideous eggs all across the cavern, never to infest another helpless human.

The entire nest had been decimated. Not a single vampire lived. A deafening quiet soon filled the massive space, as the intestines silenced the last of the dying monsters. The huge room was as bright as day. Vampire blood covered every last inch of exposed space. Even as the last beast died, the room looked full of movement. Blood pulsed as it oozed and congealed, dimming out as it dried.

Now Guts was truly alone. He simply stood in the river of gore. He did not want to think, or to feel. He just wanted to be. So that’s what he did, basking in the calming silence.

After some time, he willed his body to contract, to wind back in to himself. His flesh obeyed, constricting its loopy self back into his stomach, neatly fitting into its rightful place.

His horns deflated and lost their dimensions, slithering back against his head, becoming tattoos once more.

His wounds from the day—the bumps, bruises, cuts, scratches and broken bones—all healed themselves, until his flesh was smooth and slick as the day he was born.

Just as the last of him was about to enter into his belly, he stopped it. A single great loop hovered in the air next to his face. Guts lowered his head, allowing the flesh to wind around his neck.

He felt nothing. Another hoard of monsters dead, and the hurt and pain in his chest was still as great as the day he found his wife and little girls… He couldn’t bear to think the rest.

What was the point? He killed and he killed. He put himself at death’s door time and time again, and yet he lived. Murdering the vampires never made him feel better, never satisfied his vengeance, never brought his family back…

He tightened the coil.

Then he opened his eyes.

The closest cave mouth was lit up. Not with pulsating, organic vampire blood, but something else. It looked like… florescent light?

Impossible. The power grids had been offline for years. Even generators powered by gasoline were as rare as the fuel that ran them.

The loop uncoiled and found its home with its brethren inside Guts’ stomach. The wound sealed itself. Now nothing but a red line remained. He gathered his supplies, reloaded the shotgun, and lit another flare as he made his way toward the weird light source. Toward the cave mouth Shelly had disappeared into.

***

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.