So I'm a Vampire... Now What? - Book 2 (Original Version)

Chapter 8.10 Night of the Vampire pt10

"Warriors, come out and play..." Beatrice's voice sang, fully off-key, hollow and echoing off the walls. That was followed by a scream of rage, and then the deafening KLAT-KLAT-KLAT as Dreadlocks opened fire with his BFG.

All I could do was stare at the horror show that was Enzo of the formerly-blue tie. For a second, I wondered what Beatrice had done with his jaw. Had she kept it or just chucked it aside like some useless bit of garbage?

Tattoo opened fire, shooting at something I couldn't see, the gunshots adding to the already deafening staccato of gunfire that was threatening to become my entire existence. It seemed like it would never end.

Trenchcoat yelled something that I couldn't hear.

It might have been "Kill the bitch!" Or maybe something else equally aggressive. It didn't matter, because there was just a wall of noise and the bitter chemical taste of cordite from the gun-smoke that hung heavy in the air.

And through it all, poor fucked-up Enzo stumbled towards us, a glazed look on his face, his vampire healing ability useless to do anything for him except keep him alive and awake to suffer. He brought the spectre of suffering with him, but most of all, he brought fear, and it was beginning spread.

Fear is a motherfucker.

I can't remember who said that to me. Maybe I'm only just making it up right now, and I'm thinking that it sounds so much like a line that I had to have heard it somewhere. It doesn't matter anyway, and that's because it is so true.

Fear is a motherfucker, and it will remind any man or woman what it feels like to be small and powerless. It will take no prisoners, just force the horrible reality into our faces that we're all going to die and yes, it's going be a fucking bloodbath.

This isn't the regular fear of dying, of course. This isn't the fear you carry around with you your entire life, from the moment you realize that a random act of violence or happenstance can wipe you off the face of the planet. That kind of fear just lurks and eventually becomes part of you, and you forget about it. No, this is the other type of fear, the one that keeps us from venturing too deeply into dark places, keeps us praying that there really is nothing hiding in the closet. It's the kind of fear that whispers in your ear that yes, there is something in the closet and it's got claws, such claws...

You can either be the cowering creatures, sacred of the dark, or you can be the thing in the darkness that everyone is terrified of.

Which brings me to my girlfriend, in case you were wondering what all of this preamble was about.

It turns out Beatrice is what the things in the dark are terrified of...

The firing stopped all at once, the silence shocking and only underscored by the ringing in my ears. There was a huge number of brass casings scattered around Tattoo's feet, and I wondered if Dreadlocks was now waist-deep from the amount of firepower he had been laying down.

Trenchcoat looked down at me, and she just looked so tired, but here's the kicker: she also looked disappointed in me.

"Your girlfriend is a monster," she said, with a flat dullness, and it was a small wonder that I actually heard her. I rubbed my knuckle in my ear, and the ear popped.

"What?" I asked, pointing to my ear. The ringing was already fading.

"Your girlfriend is a monster," she irritably repeated. "This is what she does."

I glanced at poor Enzo and opened my mouth to respond, maybe something witty or pithy. Or maybe even to agree with her. I never got a chance.

BLAM!