Werewolf Son of a Vampire

Taken Chapter 3

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Hi Guys. I hope you liked my previous chapters. I am trying to make these longer and more...  I don't know thrilling. If I make any mistakes feel free to   comment and tell me and give me suggestions to make my stories better. Hope you like this!

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My eyelids fluttered open.I was staring at a blurry pus coloured ceiling.

I sat up and heard my back click. I noticed the roaring pain at the back of my head. I searched it for  lump. My hair was gone. It must have been shaved off. I wasn't happy. I loved my hair.

Slowly, I stood up. I felt drowsy, like I'd been drugged. I held on to the beam of the dirty drown bed I had been laying on. 

I soon found the strength to stand by my self. Looking around the room I found it was completely enclosed except for a small barred window about 10cm by 10cm. I ran my fingers around the wall looking for any hidden doors. My fingers hit a crevasse. On closer inspection, it was a hidden door.

I yanked it open. In front of me stood a rusty barred gate. I didn't bother hiding my disappointment as there was no one around, as far as I was concerned.

It wasn't locked. I tried to open it silently but I failed. This old thing probably had never been oiled. I stood for a while in-case anyone had heard me. No one came so I advanced.

The walls were slimy and rough. I felt a drip on my head and realised, I was underground. I poked my head around the corner, only to find two noisy guards.

"Sh*t!" I swore. 

They heard me. I bolted.

I ran back down the tunnel. Past my so called cell. I hit a  dead end. 

I was sweating. The guards were closing in on me.

I saw a trap door on the floor and climbed through and landed on a sandy floor. I didn't stop to observe anything else. I kept running. My heart was pounding at a million times per hour. 

SMACK

I hit something.

"Hello Oscar." said the man.

"Ummm... " I didn't have an excuse or anything else to say.

"Son, what where you doing? I'm going to have to take you back to your cell."

"Damn." I muttered

But I wasn't going to wait for someone to rescue me.

I kicked my dad in the head. Spun around so my but was facing his face and just as he opened his eyes again I farted.  I'd learnt that move when I was little. I called it the kickspinfart.