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PREVIEW: Jack in the Box

September 13, 2018

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Gluttony Be Thy Vice Part Two

Thursday, August 2, 2018

Outside, half dozen black vans sit with their doors flung open. I can just imagine how the officers had lunged from the vehicles in a silent storm of holy vengeance, ready to storm the dark bastion of the evil vampire. That had turned out well enough for them, I suppose, but now they’ll claim me to be some form of mindless monster, what with how high the death toll has gotten. Rolling my head to the side, I smiled as I catch sight of the slight mounds dotting the soft forest floor around my hidden cave.

They have no idea how long I’ve lurked here, and how high the body count is.

They stop in front of a van, hefting me into the back of the vehicle before climbing in with me. Dragging me up to the wall of the van, they hook my shackles into the available slot, anchoring me to the vehicle itself. The blood pumping through my veins, stolen from the dozen or so children I’d gorged upon and the few officers I had the chance to sneak up upon, screams in my ears. Flexing my arms, I can feel the silvered chains strain, the metal belt they set about my waist clenching around my bones painfully.

I look up at one of the officers, smiling. “So how many of your friends did I kill tonight?” I asked conversationally.

He responded by slugging me in the face, his fist crushing my nose beneath his full weight. I laughed, long and hard, as I felt the bones in my face already beginning to realign and set, the bruised skin lightening as my remaining blood goes to work.

“That many, eh?” I burst out laughing, my sides shaking uncontrollably as I rock back and forth against my restraints. “Well I tell you this, boy; I’ll kill more of you before this night is through. Mark my words.”

“Whatever, freak. You’re ours now, and you’re going down.” The officer spits, hopping out of the van to join his comrades. His fellow officer moves to sit across from me, rifle resting in his lap, aimed casually at my midsection.

I merely continue to grin as the sacks of meat close the van’s double doors, sealing me in the metal tomb with one of their own. The darkness of the van is soothing, and a spike of fear fills the air, the officer shifting in his seat to turn on the tiny flashlight at the end of his gun. It’s bright, but not nearly bright enough to cause a problem.

“So, what’s your name, human?” I asked, leaning back against the cool metal of the van. The shredded remains of my shirt are soaked in dried blood, hardly offering me any form of cover. Then again, I hardly care for cover.

“Shut up,” he growled, the sweet scent of fear filling the van.

“Your mother must have hated you then. Loud as a baby, eh?” I joked, chuckling darkly as I cross my legs.

“I said shut up!” he all but shouts, taking up his gun and pointing it in my face.

“I mean, I can see where she got the idea. You’re a loud man; I can only imagine what you were like as a baby.” I smiled as I see his anger rising. That’s it little man, come a little closer…

He pokes me in the chest with the barrel of his automatic rifle, his finger slipping into the trigger guard. “I could shoot you right here freak… claim self-defense. Nobody would say a word. The only reason we fought so hard to take you in alive is to send the rest of your freaky little community a message.”

“Oh?” I tried to sound interested, but I really couldn’t care less. My gaze is locked onto the pulsing vein in his neck. The van rocks and shakes as a man climbs into the driver’s seat, the distant sounds of engines roaring to life in time with the one up front. A light flickered on above us, basking us in a fluorescent glow that makes the officer blink a few times as his eyes adjust.

Now!

I lash out with my crossed legs, one foot connecting with his groin with a loud crunch, the other scissoring to the other side into his hip, twisting and throwing him to the bottom of the van. He screams in agony; a scream I echo to prevent the driver from thinking something’s amiss.

I quickly stomp on his head, just hard enough to knock him out. A gash on his head leaks his glimmering life fluid onto the padded floor of the van. Soon…

Looking down at the shackles which have burned their way into my wrists, I flex and pull, straining the metal as I slowly stretch the metal links, searching for… ah!

There it is, I think happily as one of the links splits apart, freeing my arm from the connection to my waist. It takes me less than a minute to pull the shackles free from me, using my long talons to wriggle the metal out from beneath the skin that had begun healing over the constricting manacles.

I look down at the body of the officer, who groans low as the van continues to rock and roll down the mountain road. Rubbing my wrists, I smile.

“Told you more of you would die before the night was through,” I say with a slight chuckle.

 

 The van begins to roll, steadily gaining speed as we begin to drive away from my refuge. Kneeling next to the officer, I strip off his vest and armor, tossing his gun to the side. Pulling off my tattered shirt, I tug his shirt free and pull it over his head. While kind of large on me, it’s much better than the bloody rags I’d been wearing.

Wiping a finger over the gash in his forehead, I pop the finger in my mouth and moan at the sinful decadence of it. Leaning forward, I tear into his throat with abandon, pulling at muscles and sinew as his veins burst fluid into the back of my mouth, the deliciously hot life warming my cold body as I gulped it down in time with his heartbeat.

I spend the next few minutes eating, draining his body of blood and stripping away the juicier chunks of flesh on him, popping them into my mouth with glee, chewing thoroughly around the gristle and fat. The padded van floor is now soaked through with blood while the officer is now paler than I normally am.

What a shame Shut Up had to die like this, I giggled, as I move to a crouch. If he’d been polite I would have just knocked him out.

Scooping up the automatic weapon, I pull the magazine out, casually checking the amount of ammunition left in the magazine. Full, it would seem.

Slamming the magazine back in, I move up to the wall separating the metal tomb with the cab of the van, the only thing creating an opening being the small slit between the two; putting my ear to the wall, I try and pinpoint where the driver is exactly. Smiling as I hear his slow heartbeat through the thin sheet metal, I line up the automatic weapon to the wall.

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