THE VAMPIRE UNDERGROUND

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“Umm… Paul?”

He tossed the make-up kit aside and peered through the slit in the wall to see the four vampires step outside to reveal a pale, shrunken corpse that used to be Sawyer.

“Yeah?” he finally said.

“Why do I look like this?”

“You’ll find out in a second,” he said. “Trust me.”

“Trust you? You keep saying that! You’re one of them, and you just turned me into one of them!”

“Shh,” he said. “Wait for it.”

The final cheering died down, and Droz returned to the stage, kicking Sawyer’s dead body off the chair so he could take a seat.

“Good job, everyone,” he said. “I hope you enjoyed the surprise. It’s too bad, however, that so many of you in the audience didn’t get a drop of blood. It’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

The audience loudly agreed with him.

“I’m glad you think so, because I have another surprise for all of you. Stay tight, and prepare to quench your thirst.” He stood up from the chair, smiled big, and boasted, “Because we have four more visitors!”

The audience members leapt to their feet and cheered loud enough to deafen Brin’s ears. Vampire children were jumping up and down, friendly old vampire ladies were hugging and kissing each other.

“You know what that means, right?” Droz took another step forward, pressed his foot down against Sawyer’s head, and shouted, “Everyone gets a taste!” 

There was laughing, clapping, cheering. Boisterous noises echoed through the auditorium.

Paul turned around and pulled Brin up to her feet.

“OK,” he said. “Ready… and… go!”

Brin wasn’t prepared for a running marathon yet, but before she could say a word, Paul had a death grip on her hand and started pulling her at top speeds down the stairwell. She almost tripped on the way down, but she found her footing.

They turned right at the bottom of the stairwell and entered another stairwell, one that took them down underneath the stage of the auditorium. They raced down a thin corridor, one that was dirty and dank and looked appropriate for sewage waste.

We’re underground the Underground, Brin thought.

They made one more right turn, then faced a pair of giant double doors.

“Where does this go?” Brin whispered.

“Shhh,” Paul said for the umpteenth time. His hand rested on the doorknob. “Brin, listen to me. Don’t look at anyone funny. Don’t say anything funny. Don’t say a word, actually. Just act natural. Pretend you’re one of us.”

She nodded, even though she had a problem: Brin hadn’t a clue how to be one of them. Did she have to walk a certain way? Did she have to throw some dirt in her eyes to make them glow red? She had no idea. She had no clue what she was supposed to do.

She gulped, loudly, as Paul pushed through the doors and pulled Brin into a large room, one that looked to be a rehearsal area. At least fifty pale bodies roamed the room, some practicing their steps, some touching up their make-up, some clearing their throats and trying to sing. Eight vampires belting out a chorus stepped away from each other in the back of the room, revealing four bodies in chairs, all seated next to each other, all with their backs turned to Brin.