THE VAMPIRE UNDERGROUND

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY

One of the deformed, drooling vampires hooked his claws against Brin’s face and brought her down to the dirt ground. He opened his mouth, revealing a pair of dark yellow fangs.

“No!” Brin shouted. “No! Stop!”

She formed a fist with her right hand and slugged the grotesque creature in the jaw. She hit him hard, causing his black blood to spray in every direction.

Irritated and thirsty for blood, the vampire pushed his elongated hands against her chest and brought his teeth down to her neck.

“Paul! Help!”

She could see him brawling with the other unwelcome creature on the opposite side of the room. But her attention changed quickly from Paul to the creature behind her trying to eat her face.

She grabbed the vampire’s gray hair and pulled it back, but he didn’t budge. She tried to kick him away, but he was too strong. Nothing she did worked. He leaned his chest against her back, pushed her head down, and grinded his teeth up against her neck.

“Get off!” Brin shouted, trying to push him away with every ounce of her being. “Goddammit, get off! Help! Pleeeeeease!”

Help finally came. Paul swung the decapitated head of his vampire opponent against the head of the vampire currently on top of her. She closed her eyes and her mouth as blood splattered against every inch of her face and neck.

“Oh my God,” she said, scooting back.

She watched as Paul jumped on the vampire above her, snapped his neck, and then exposed an old but potent saw.

“Don’t look,” Paul said. “This has to be done.”

Brin was perfectly fine with not looking. She turned her head to the side and stared at the wall, the one covered with an ugly blue rug. She didn’t understand why Paul would feel the need to dress up his sad little quarters, especially since he said he never had any visitors. 

Until now, that is.

“OK,” Paul said. “It’s OK now.”

He tossed the second severed head into the back of the room and walked over to Brin.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“You need to stand up.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I just… I think I need a towel or a washcloth or something.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything like that.” He sat down on the dirt next to her and unexpectedly ran a few of his fingers through her fine black hair. 

“Anyone ever tell you how pretty your hair is?” he said.

She stared at him with incredulity and tried not to laugh. “My face is covered in vampire’s blood and you notice how nice my hair looks?”

He smiled. “Sorry. I don’t see too many living, breathing humans anymore.”

She glanced past Paul to see two decapitated heads on the other side of the room. She shuddered, violently, as if a cold breeze passed through her. “Disgusting.”

“You think I’m disgusting?” His warm smile slowly morphed into a look of constipation.

“No, no, not you,” she said. “Those creatures. Those heads.”