Hell's Army

Chapter Twenty-one- Sheep and Wolves

"He's not my boyfriend," Holly said as the vampire hissed into Ingleseid's neck.

"That's the problem you have with this situation?" Ingleseid choked.

"I'm going to kill you now," the vampire said.

"Please don't."

"I'm going to tear your neck apart with my teeth and drink your rich, crimson blood."

Ingleseid squeezed his eyes shut, heart pounding, and-

Nothing happened.

He opened one eye. "Are you?"

"Just...give me a minute," he said, a little desperately. "This is a very delicate process."

"Take your time."

The vampire took a deep breath. "I'm a murderer. I'm a guiltless, evil murderer, and I'm going to kill you now. Just one bite, that's all it will take. One small bite, and you're dead."

"Sorry," Holly interrupted. "Are you actually going to kill him, or are you just going to talk about it for a really long time?"

"Your concern for my wellbeing is touching," Ingleseid mumbled.

"Look," the vampire said miserably, "I haven't exactly...done this before."

Ingleseid frowned. "You've never bitten someone?"

"No."

"But you're a vampire," Holly said.

"Yeah, but not a very good one." Ingleseid felt him square his shoulders a little. "Just give me a second. I'll get in the zone, and then I'll kill you. I'll rip your throat out. I'll-"

Holly set his pant leg on fire, and he squealed like a little girl.

Ingleseid wriggled out of his grip as he patted the flames out, and Holly advanced towards the vampire, who fell over and cried, "Please don't hurt me!"

Her arms lit up. "It's a bit late for that."

His eyes widened under his full moon spectacles, dishevelled ginger hair flopping around him as his whole body shook. He was wearing long pants and a sweater vest that probably hadn't been in fashion since, well, never.

"Please!" he cried. "I have a family! I have friends! Well, I don't have exactly friends, per se, but I really want to make some! Please don't kill me!"

Then he burst into tears like a really frightened, really ugly baby.

"What kind of vampire are you?" Holly asked slowly.

"I didn't want this!" he sobbed. "I was just walking home when this guy swoops down and bites me. Then-then I changed. I wanted to... hurt people." He cringed with every word. "To drink their blood. But I didn't! Not once! Then they found me and brought me back here, and they said if I didn't- if I didn't drink someone, they'd kill me." He dissolved into a fresh set of tears, and Holly raised a burning hand.

"Please," he moaned.

She lowered it slowly. "I can't do it," she said. "It'd be like killing a puppy. Abner, what the hell do we do with him?"

Ingleseid looked at the vampire. He had to admit, he felt sorry for him. But he was a vampire. And vampires were always bad news.

"We can't kill him," Tatters said. "He hasn't done anything wrong."

Ingleseid glanced at him. Tatters always found any and all opportunity to be the humanitarian. Or maybe he was just empathizing with the only other dead man in the room.