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

CHAPTER 11.3 - THE WICKED ONE

Searing pain.

Deep in the black, there was a throbbing, a surging of pain that ebbed sharply, and then faded to a dull ache, almost like a heartbeat and the surge of blood through the vein—

HOLY SHIT! What the fuck was that?

An explosion of pain on my right side then, high in the shoulder, nothing dull about that at all and oh God it hurt so fucking much, make it stop who the fuck was that screaming, shut up shut up—

Oh right. That was me screaming.

I woke up staring at the hilt of Beatrice's huge fucking knife sticking out of my right shoulder, the occasional spurt of arterial blood adding to the concert of pain. You don't realize until it happens to you, how much pain is linked to the flow of blood and the beat of your heart. When the blood is escaping around tortured and much abused nerve endings, there is a temporary release where it doesn't hurt quite so much, but then the heart pumps again and as more blood surges, here comes the pain -- oh God it hurts! The worst thing though was this weird feeling, this itch that felt like my body was trying to heal itself, but there was a goddamn KNIFE stuck into my shoulder—

Wait a minute...

I looked at my other shoulder.

Apparently Beatrice carried two big fucking knives with her.

I was pinned to the kitchen wall, Beatrice's uncomfortably huge knives embedded hilt deep into both of my shoulders. The pain that had greeted me on waking had been Beatrice slamming the second knife into me, the first having been inserted while my brain still had me knocked out. Oh and she had decided to pin me two feet into the air, so all of my weight was resting on those knives and oh fucking hell it hurt.

Beatrice looked surprised and then delighted to see that I was awake. She grabbed me by the face and looked deep in my eyes to see if I was all there. I tried to stifle a scream, but was too much of a pussy to prevent it coming out.

"Do you want to fuck me Bob?"

That was seriously the last thing I'd expected to hear. I shook my head in muted surprise, but that was a bad idea as pain ripped through my body with each movement. That didn't deter Beatrice. She looked honestly hurt by my not wanting to fuck her.

"WHY NOT?" She screamed into my face, getting right up close and personal, her spit spraying my face in crazy. It was then that I realized two things that took my mind completely off of my pain.

First of all, Beatrice was still naked. The eye patch sat firmly on her face like a black scar of rage. It's funny, because there was absolutely nothing erotic about the scene in any way whatsoever, no matter how aroused you are by beautiful psychotic blonde women with shapely bodies, perfectly perky breasts and a neat mound of blonde pubic hair. All of this was window dressing and also happened to be covered in spatters and streaks of my blood. There was no arousal on my part, just a lot of pain, complete confusion and abject terror. Plus she had almost broken my cock off and there was no way I wanted any blood flowing there right now.

Think happy terrified thought... happy terrified thoughts...

Beatrice yanked both of the knives out of my shoulders in a shocking display of brutal strength, and I crumpled to the floor, spraying arterial blood from one shoulder. I screamed all the way down, and even as I fell, I got complete confirmation of the second thing I had noticed about Beatrice.

She was floating about two feet off the ground.

Beatrice turned in the air, arms going out to steady herself almost by reflex, and even as I felt my shoulders screaming as they finally began to repair the damage without any metal in the way, I could only wonder—