Trip to V-Town: A Short Horror StoryA Story by drakevaughnWhen a group of teenage boys embark on a perilous trip into the vampire section of town, they encounter unexpected consequences. This featured story is part of The Carvings Collection by Drake Vaughn.Trip to V-Town
Less than five minutes
past Magic Mirror junction, the Honda rammed a pothole and bucked to the left.
Agustin pitched against the door, but kept a firm grip on his beer. Tariq
wasn’t so lucky-a frothy explosion pooled across his lap. He released the wheel
and swiped at the splatter, cursing as it soaked into his jeans. Rob and Jimmy
cackled in the rear, but the laughter was cut short with the rumble of a
deflating tire. The
jolting rattle grew louder, and Agustin dropped his beer into a cup holder. The
Honda lurched past a row of houses with chipped paint and boarded-up windows.
An overturned grill rested in the matted grass of one yard. In another stood
the rusted shell of a pickup truck. On the sidewalk, a shabby sofa was propped
against a bone-dry fire hydrant missing its top. “You
should’ve opened the beer before passing it,” Tariq said, forcing the trembling
car ahead. “You’re
the one who wasn’t watching the road,” Jimmy protested. “Whatever. We should
wait for a gas station or streetlight.” “Sure,
plenty of those around.” Rob shot Jimmy a look. No streetlights existed in
V-Town. Both cops and vampires preferred it that way. “You
really want to stop?” Tariq passed a barren dirt lot with a mangled chain-link
fence. “No,
let’s keep driving until the axle snaps.” Rob smirked and sipped his beer. “Fine.”
Tariq jerked the car off the road next to the dirt lot. “That better?” “You’ll
want to straighten the wheel,” Rob replied, chugging another gulp. “Anything
else, ma?” Tariq ground to a halt. “Yeah,
watch out for piners. Heard those monsters have a vicious bite.” Rob pitched
the empty beer can at the fence. It hit a loose portion with a loud rattle. Tariq
stepped onto the splintered asphalt. Outside of a few parked cars, the street
was empty. “Kill
the headlights,” Jimmy suggested. “They’re like homing beacons for piners.” “This
is your fault, so you’re going to help me.” Tariq yanked Jimmy’s door open. “All
I did was hand you a beer.” Jimmy crossed his arms and remained planted in his
seat. “Bet
you don’t even know how to change a tire,” Tariq said. Agustin
turned, glimpsing a silhouette sprinting across the dirt lot. He squinted,
attempting to confirm the sighting. The crunching footsteps drew closer and he
identified not one, but two figures galloping straight toward them. “Guys,”
he muttered. “Of
course I know how to change a tire,” Jimmy replied. “Prove
it.” Tariq popped the trunk, but Jimmy didn’t budge. When Tariq tugged on
Jimmy, he slipped and toppled onto Jimmy’s lap. They wrestled in the back seat,
neither gaining the upper hand. “Enough,”
Rob said, opening his door. “You two swap out your diapers and I’ll change the
tire.” “Wait,”
Agustin yelled, pointing at the fence. Two shadowy figures were climbing
through a loose portion just to the rear of the car. Both sported pitch-black
sunglasses, a flashing signal they were piners. Rob
lunged into the car, slamming the door shut behind him. Tariq scrambled over
Jimmy into the front. He reached underneath the seat and yanked out a bulky
flashlight. “Lock
the doors,” Jimmy yelled, but instead of clicking the locks, Tariq rolled down
his window. He aimed the flashlight. “Let’s
party.” Tariq’s thumb hovered over the switch. The
fence snapped into place as the piners scrambled onto the sidewalk. Neither
glanced at the Honda before racing toward a ramshackle car parked at the end of
the block. They piled in and sped off without turning on the headlights, engine
squealing. “That’s
right. Run away, you ragmouths.” Tariq honked, but the ramshackle car didn’t
slow. “Should
we call a tow truck? Or the police?” Jimmy asked. “Let’s
call your mama. She can drive to V-Town and pick up your scaredy pants,” Tariq
quipped. “You’re
the one who looks like you peed your pants.” Jimmy pointed at the damp spot
where Tariq had spilled his beer. “That’s
the wet spot from your mother.” “Jerk.”
Jimmy whacked Tariq’s headrest. “You
looking to scrap again?” Tariq whirled around. “Step outside and ragmouths will
be the least of your worries.” “Guys,
tonight’s for loving, not fighting,” Rob interrupted. “Yeah,
I bet Jimmy can’t wait for a Snow White’s smooch to finally wake him from that
virgin sleep,” Tariq said. “I’m
not a virgin,” Jimmy replied, but they all laughed, Agustin included, though he’d
never been with a girl either. Tariq
was jacking the Honda when a red Ford truck pulled to the corner. The driver
started to head in the opposite direction, but hit the brakes and switched into
reverse. Tariq stood as the truck rolled closer. From the pale skin and glowing
green cat-like eyes, no doubt the driver was a piner. “You
boys need some assistance?” The piner plucked his long fingernails against the
truck’s window frame. “Keep
rolling, piner.” Tariq sparked a flashlight and aimed the beam into the air. “Hey,
I was only offering help.” The piner wrenched back. “Get
out of here, piner,” Rob said, clutching an industrial-sized flashlight.
Agustin rolled his finger across the rubber switch of his LED one, but waited
to ignite it. “Goodnight,
boys.” The piner inched the truck forward, but paused. “For the record, we
don’t sleep in pine boxes.” “Like
I care.” Tariq swiped the flashlight’s beam over the truck. The piner ducked,
but from the way he hollered, Agustin knew he was hit. The truck lurched
forward and rammed over the curb. The piner peeked up and swerved back onto the
street. He slammed the gas and faded into the distance. “Let’s
bounce before that ragmouth comes back,” Tariq said, tightening the spare to
the wheel studs. Agustin stood frozen, staring down the street. “Don’t
be frazzled,” Rob said, pulling him to the side. “First trip to V-Town, so you
might feel a bit conflicted. Just remember, any hesitation can get you killed.” “I
know,” Agustin replied. “I brought extra beams, just in case.” He tapped his
pockets, feeling the flashlights inside. “But
as long as you keep your head, the piners will obey. Any animal heels to a
leash, even a blood-sucking corpse. Remember, a hot punch gets the cold munch.” Agustin
nodded and Rob patted him on the back. “Good.
V-Town is our town tonight.” The
spare hummed a bit, but held as they weaved through the pitch-black alleyways
in the heart of V-Town. Unlike the outer thoroughfares, headlights weren’t
permitted here, so Tariq was forced to proceed at a slow crawl. He complained
and smacked the steering wheel a few times, but Agustin didn’t mind, figuring
it best to avoid stressing the spare. A
set of blinking red lights attached to a razor-wire fence marked the Count’s
outer perimeter. On the other side of the barrier, a line of arches connected
to what had once been a boxy three-story warehouse. The front façade was
embroidered with frilly patterns and stone gargoyles. A giant statue of a
voluptuous vampire stood provocatively at the entrance. Tariq
turned into the driveway and proceeded through a motion-activated gate. As the
entrance buzzed open, a pair of blazing spotlights swiped over the car. Agustin
rubbed his eyes, blinded as they drove inside. The lot was mostly empty, but
Tariq parked in the first available spot a bit back from the entrance. “Check
out that ride.” Rob pointed at a stylish stretch-limousine. “Bet it’s a
politician. They love the Count’s, since the piners blur the cameras so they
can’t be photographed.” “Heads
up, fire in the hole.” Tariq motioned toward a piner boy seated on a nearby
concrete parking block. “All
good. I bet momma is working inside.” Rob approached and the piner boy stared
up with glowing green eyes. “Isn’t that right, buddy? Does she spit a little sloppy
seconds for you?” The
piner boy lunged to his feet, exhibiting a pair of finger-sized fangs. Normal
for adult piners, they appeared mammoth on such a young boy. The only children
piners Agustin had ever seen were on those silly TV commercials asking for
charity. Of course, they never sported fangs on those. For good reason-the
sight was repellant. “Don’t
aggravate him,” Jimmy said, but Rob inched closer. “Maybe
he’s the one who works here,” Rob continued. “You want a little taste?” The
piner boy moistened his lips with a long pale tongue. A bit of drool dropped
onto his T-shirt, which was emblazoned with a crimson skull. “Okay,
I’ll be your daddy,” Rob said, tugging at his shirt collar. The
piner boy bolted at him. Agustin jammed his hand into his pocket and fumbled
for a flashlight. Rob smirked and a beam sparked on. The piner boy dropped
after only a couple steps. Rob clutched the flashlight out in front of him.
Agustin stood shaking, his hand still wedged into his pocket. “Put
on the brakes, kid.” Rob swung the beam away from the piner boy, who was
writhing on the pavement. “Slowly, and you can feed.” “What
are you doing?” Tariq asked, but Rob waved him back. “Come
on.” Rob motioned to approach. The piner boy crawled to his feet, dusting off
his injured side. Half of his face throbbed a bright red, but as he inched
closer, the wound faded. Rob craned his neck, tapping the side. “Don’t
worry, I won’t hurt you.” Rob placed his wrist to his lips in a faux-feeding
gesture. The piner boy inched closer. He was only a few steps away when Rob hit
him with a second blast. “Still
too fast.” Rob chuckled as the piner boy screeched and rolled onto the
pavement. Rob swung the beam closer and the piner boy scurried behind a parked
car. “Stop
hiding. This time, I promise a taste,” Rob said, but the piner boy raced across
the lot. “He’s
getting away.” Tariq motioned to chase. “Don’t
worry, he learned his lesson. Watch this.” Rob sliced the beam over the lot and
the piner boy tripped. They all had a good laugh at that. “Children,
learn them well or they grow up to be monsters,” Rob said, holstering his
flashlight. “We
should stake that despicable creature. Imagine having eternal life and choosing
to spend it like that. It’s sick.” Tariq pointed his own beam, but the piner
boy had disappeared. “Easy
now. The Count awaits our arrival.” Rob wrapped his arm around Tariq and nudged
him toward the front archway. Agustin
followed a few steps behind, his eyes locked on the voluptuous statue out
front. The sight of a thirty-foot tall stone piner was intimidating, but at the
same time, he couldn’t break his stare. If the Snow Whites inside were even
half as pretty, it was going to be one damn fine night. They
entered through a pair of wooden doors into a sweeping lobby. A sleek fountain
poured from a giant urn and flowed behind a dozen suits of armor. Faded
tapestries hung from the walls and a variety of swords spiked up from the stone
floor. On the far side, a pristine mirror spanned the entire wall. It spilled
no reflection as the Count crossed to greet them. The
Count was more informal than the gothic décor, sporting a black tank-top and
jeans. A blazing red do-rag topped his head and he grinned through a bushy
goatee. He towered almost seven feet tall, yet appeared to float with gliding
strides. A colossal gold crucifix swung across his chest as he approached. “Evening,
bros,” the Count boomed in a deep baritone. “Nice
chain,” Rob said. “Don’t relics ward off your kind?” “I’m
Muslim,” the Count replied. “Deboed it from a patron, who brought it in under
the mistaken belief it’d protect him from paying his tab. It didn’t. Feel me?” Rob
nodded and reached for his wallet. “Business
is with the Snow Whites.” The Count flicked his wrist and a line of female
piners entered, each in a skimpy vamp outfit. Agustin smiled, though his hands
were shaking. “Jimmy
chooses first, since he’s never been with a girl,” Tariq announced. “Don’t
use my name.” Jimmy smacked Tariq’s arm, but he didn’t hesitate in gesturing at
a plump but voluptuous piner near the end of the line. She appeared a bit
surprised to be chosen first and pointed at herself to confirm. They all had a
good chuckle at this and even Jimmy grinned while being escorted through a
doorway in the rear. Tariq
picked next, leaving with a cute piner who had a girl-next-door appearance. If
he hadn’t selected her, Agustin would have. Rob chose the meanest one of the
lot, a rail-thin piner with slick black hair, narrow lips, and a death-inducing
scowl. Her expression didn’t change after being selected. The
remaining Snow Whites looked at Agustin with those glowing green eyes as he
scanned the line. He narrowed his choice to a seductive older piner and a more
age-appropriate one who was homely and wore horned-rimmed glasses. Unable to
speak, he pointed at the one with the glasses. She
approached and reached for his hand. He shook as though introducing himself and
she giggled, refusing to release her grip. She led him through a beaded curtain
into a narrow hallway. Sounds of creaking beds, moaning, and snippets of
conversation littered the air. They entered a small bedroom. As
soon as the door clicked shut, Agustin tugged the piner to him. He’d never been
with anyone, so he was a bit unsure where to begin-his first instinct was to
paw at her chest. Before he could get much of a grope, she wrenched away. “Aren’t
you frisky.” She gave a playful smile and sat on the bed, patting the place
next to her to indicate he should sit there. The sheets appeared clean enough,
but the idea others had used them kept him perched on the edge. “What’s
your name?” she asked, pressing against him. “Does
it matter?” he replied, remembering Jimmy’s hesitation in revealing his name.
She leaned close and inhaled. “I’m
Carmilla. Most guys like to talk beforehand, but if you want to be mysterious,
okay. I’m glad you decided to visit. You smell amazing.” She pecked his neck
and Agustin twisted back. He touched where she’d kissed him, but found no
wound. “Don’t
be nervous. I always ask permission before feeding. That’s the policy here. Is
this your first time?” “Yes,”
Agustin answered, still rubbing his neck. “I’ve never been with a girl.” “I
meant is this your first time at the Count’s?” She giggled. “Your honesty is
sweet. Most guys lie about that.” “I
figured if you knew, then you could tell me if I was doing something wrong.” “Oh,
the first rule is you’re only doing it right if you’re doing it wrong.” She
grinned and kissed him on the cheek. This time, he didn’t flinch. “I’m
Agustin.” He returned the embrace. The kiss lasted only a moment, but he was
instantly aroused. “See,
introductions aren’t that bad,” she said, running her fingers across the bulge
in his jeans. “Since this is your first time, I’ll explain how this works. You
start by paying for the room.” “How
much?” he gasped, almost unable to speak. She whispered the number into his ear
and he fumbled out the cash. She placed the bills inside a lockbox at the foot
of the bed. “Now
we can relax.” She dug her hand into his jeans and rubbed outside his boxer
shorts. “It’s also customary to tip if you enjoy your stay. Cash is
appreciated, but so is a nibble.” She
nipped and tickled her tongue across his neck. He moaned as her hand stroked
faster within his jeans. “Nothing
turns me on more than a full stomach,” she whispered. “Can I feed?” “Yeah,”
he panted, craning his neck. A frigid pinprick sliced across him, followed by a
balmy wave. He shook and dropped onto the bed, no longer caring one iota about
the cleanliness of the sheets. She straddled him, clasping their bodies
together. Her hips pulsed, joining in his quaking rhythm. He didn’t want this
bliss to ever end. A
slurping noise jarred him to attention. How long had this been going on? Too
long? Was this some evil piner trick to use his inexperience to her advantage? Agustin
whipped out his flashlight and shone the beam into her face. Carmilla shrieked
and toppled off the bed. She thrashed on the floor and yanked the covers over
her head. Agustin ran his fingers over the pinhole bites on his neck. The pounding
convulsions faded into a dull throb. He felt woozy, but nothing more than if
he’d spun around a few times. “What
the hell?” Carmilla cried out, peeking from underneath the covers. “You
were feeding too long,” he replied, still clutching the flashlight. “Just
say so. You didn’t have to beam me.” She rubbed the blistered side of her face.
White ooze dribbled from the wound. “You’ll
heal,” he said, and the wound began to fade. “That
doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt,” she cried. “Get
back on the bed.” He waved the flashlight into the air. “I paid for the room.” She
appeared ready to protest, but he flicked the beam closer and she remained
quiet. He recalled Rob’s warning how every animal heels to a leash. A hot punch gets the cold munch. “Now,”
he yelled and Carmilla climbed onto the bed. “We
can have fun without that.” She smiled, but her strained expression only
infuriated him more. “You’re
the only one who’s had fun so far.” He aimed the beam and she scrambled closer.
“Take off your glasses. Then everything else.” She
did as she was told. Agustin grinned, unbuckling his belt. A hot punch gets the
cold munch indeed. Agustin
rolled onto his back, his heart pounding. So
that’s what all the fuss is about, he thought, loosening his grip on the
flashlight. Carmilla curled into a ball at his side. She sniffled as tears
watered her cheek. He touched her shoulder, but she recoiled into the sheets. “You
were incredible.” He hoped the compliment might improve her mood, but the tears
kept streaming. “My
name isn’t Carmilla,” she said between gasps. “It’s a literary reference, but
nobody ever gets it.” “That’s
okay, I don’t need to know.” “No,
please listen. Thought it’d be ironic compared to the flowery ones the others
use like Candi, Honey, and Bubbles. Something dark, alluring, exotic. A similar
sentiment to what drew me to be like this in the first place.” “Trust
me, you were perfect.” Agustin glanced at the door, wondering if the others
were also finished. “I
hated my life before. Nobody understood me, nobody loved me. And I believed
this was the answer. To embrace the darkness and show the world I just didn’t
care. That it couldn’t hurt me any more than I hurt myself.” “If
I want to go again, do I have to pay extra or is that included with the time?”
Agustin felt that twitching sensation rising anew. “You
can do whatever you want, but promise me something.” “No
more feeding,” he insisted. He’d been too enraptured the first time and didn’t
dare a repeat. “Feel
this.” She placed his hand on her frigid chest. Agustin moved it lower and
groped her. Maybe the encore was included with the room. She shoved his hand
back up and held it steady against her skin. “No
heartbeat. No pulse. No life,” she said. “But I still have feelings, so much
pain. I need you to stake me.” “What?”
He yanked his hand back. “My
real name is Leonore. Funny, it means light.” She removed a stake from a
dresser drawer. “You have to do this.” “I-I…”
Agustin stuttered. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” He tossed a wad of bills onto
the bed and started to dress as fast as he could. “I
can’t stake myself. It has to be a human. Please, the pain never ends. I need
it to end.” “I’m
sure you’ll find someone.” He slipped on his shoes, not taking the time to do
the laces. “You’re
all the same.” She flung the stake. Agustin dodged and it bounced against the
wall. “Go, just go.” Another
round of tears exploded and she slumped onto the bed. Agustin slipped past,
thankful she didn’t reach out to stop him. “Left
her in tears, right on.” Tariq slapped Agustin’s back as they marched outside.
Agustin hadn’t expected this response-he’d only brought it up out of a stinging
guilt. Tariq whooped and jumped down the steps, so Agustin didn’t elaborate on
Leonore’s suicidal request. Perhaps it was normal for piners. “How
about you, chubby-cheese?” Tariq asked Jimmy. “Let’s see the hickey.” Jimmy
craned his neck, displaying two circular scabs. Tariq howled again, pumping his
fist into the air. Agustin
slowed, trailing further behind. He stared back at the arches, wanting to
return and tell Leonore to get help. Other guys would have no problem staking a
piner, so it was only a matter of time. Still, in her shoes, he might make the
same request. He took one final glance and crossed the parking lot. “Why in the world did you choose that angry
hag?” Tariq asked, wrapping his arm around Rob. “I
enjoy the challenge. It’s one thing to bucking bronco a girl, but a piner is an
entirely different experience. While doing her doggie style, you beam her in
the face and hold on as she thrashes. The spasms create the most amazing
sensation.” “Damn,
you for real?” Tariq asked, but before Rob could answer, they both stopped
short. The driver’s side window of the Honda was smashed, and the stereo was
missing. “That
little ragmouth b*****d.” Tariq stared for any sign of the piner boy, but the
lot was empty. “Are
you sure it was him?” Jimmy asked. “Who
else? Outside piners can’t get past those spotlights. My mom is going to kill
me.” Tariq slammed the car door, showering the remaining shards onto the pavement. “Easy
now. If he can’t get out, he must be inside. Let’s chat up the Count,” Rob
suggested. “Forget
talk. Time to light up his a*s.” Tariq waved a flashlight in either hand.
Before Rob could protest, Tariq was sprinting back through the arches. They all
clutched their flashlights and marched inside. “I
know you’re back there,” Tariq shouted, shining his beam at the giant mirror.
Agustin scanned for piners, but unless they were hiding inside those suits of
armor, the lobby was empty. “Put
your weapons away,” a voice buzzed from an overhead speaker. “This is your only
warning.” “Count,
get out here.” Tariq started to bash the mirror with the butt of his
flashlight. Crack. Crack. Crack. The
gunshots sounded like firecrackers, but the ricocheting dust signaled they were
the real deal. Jimmy collapsed and his flashlight rolled across the floor. Was
he shot? Agustin dropped to his knees and froze until Rob yanked him behind a
pillar. Tariq stood in place and flicked the birdie at the mirror. “Beams
on the floor,” the voice from the speaker buzzed. Agustin exhaled as Jimmy
crawled over, unharmed. “Only
if the Count comes out,” Tariq said. “If
you want to live, beams down.” “Fine.”
Tariq switched off his flashlights and placed them at his feet. Rob and Agustin
followed suit, rolling their flashlights out from behind the pillar. Only
Jimmy’s remained illuminated because he’d left it wobbling on the floor. Tariq
reached down and flicked it off. “Now
that wasn’t so difficult.” The Count emerged with an armed guard on either
side. Agustin glanced back, noting three more circled around, each clutching an
assault rifle. “One
of your Snow Walters stole my car stereo,” Tariq said. “Is
that so?” The Count slid his fingers through the curly hairs of his goatee. “Yeah,
the young one you keep for deviants.” “I
don’t employ children.” The Count snatched a flashlight and switched it on. He
scalded his hand without flinching and raised his charred palm. “Scout’s
honor.” “I
don’t care how old he is in piner years, he looks like a child in human ones,”
Tariq said as the Count’s flesh molded back to normal. “Most
times I never repeat myself, but in this case I will. I don’t employ children,
piners or otherwise. Feel me? Now if you don’t have nothing else to say, best
you roll out of here.” “How
did one get into the parking lot then? Explain that, ragmouth,” Tariq said. “Don’t
mind him, Count.” Rob shoved in front of Tariq. “What my friend meant to say
was that we encountered a piner boy earlier and now the car’s busted up and the
stereo’s missing.” “Why
didn’t you lead with that instead of drawing beams?” The Count shook his head.
“Yeah, that buck creeps around some, but he don’t work for me.” “You
know where we can find him? Give us an address and we can settle this
ourselves. No need to bother you any further.” “The
issue is bothering me in the first place.” The Count stroked his goatee again.
“If you’d come with words, I would’ve owned up and done you right. That’s
trust. But you fronted.” “Does
this sound about right?” Rob removed a stack of bills from his wallet. “That
might jog my memory.” The Count reached for the money, but Tariq grabbed Rob’s
arm. “You
get nothing. Tell us or we’ll call the police. If they find those guns,
everyone here will be staked.” “Who
do you think provided them? You really don’t understand how this works, do
you?” the Count asked, snatching the money. “You in V-Town now, m**********r.” “Of
course, all we want is that address,” Rob replied. “His
cheese too.” The Count nodded at Tariq. The guards swung their rifles, aiming
at his chest. “Whatever.”
Tariq grabbed the remaining cash from his wallet, but when the Count reached
over, he refused to let go. “Not until we get the address.” “Fair
enough.” The Count scribbled out a note. “Pleasure doing business, punk.” Tariq
raced through the narrow streets of inner V-Town, headlights blazing. He
slammed a beer, the third one on their way to the address. The spare wheeled
louder as he cut a sharp corner, but even Rob lacked the heart to tell him to
take it easy. The lurching made Agustin nauseous, so he closed his eyes and
concentrated on the brisk nighttime breeze. Tariq
rounded a corner, slowed and flicked off the lights, signaling they were close.
A row of dilapidated high-rises towered on either side, blocking any view
outside of the street. A piner girl stood next to a pair of pit bulls shackled
to a fence. They nipped at each other, but their short leashes prevented a
full-on fight. The girl whistled as they passed. “Damn,
we’ve been made,” Tariq muttered. “Let’s
bounce,” Jimmy suggested. “Only
thing bouncing is these ragmouths over my hood.” Tariq hit the gas and reeled
down the street. The crowd of piners scattered toward the high-rises. “That’s
him,” Rob declared, pointing at a piner boy who was cowering next to a set of
concrete stairs. “Same
red skull shirt.” Tariq hammered the brakes and lunged out. He rushed the piner
boy, slamming him against the building. Rob chased right behind, a flashlight
blazing in either hand. “Do
you have the faintest idea what you cost me tonight?” Tariq yelled. “Did you
think I wouldn’t find you? What do you have to say, you menses-mouthed punk?” The
piner boy choked an inaudible reply as Tariq jammed an elbow against his
throat. Pinned to the wall, his legs wheeled in the air. Tariq released and he
dropped onto the sidewalk, wheezing. Tariq stomped his chest before he could
inhale a single breath. Rob
hovered to the side, shining a light in either direction in case the piner boy
attempted to run. Agustin scanned behind them, warding off any heroes who might
decide to intervene. A sprinkling of heads gazed down from the high-rise, but
the street remained empty. “Where’s
my stereo?” Tariq pressed the piner boy’s face against the brick wall and
scraped like a shredder. “I
sold it,” he screamed. Tariq
released and the piner boy rolled back. Before he could get too far, Rob beamed
him. The piner boy shrieked and pressed against the wall. Tariq pinned him and
Rob tore off his pants, shaking out the contents. A pack of cigarettes fell out
along with a roll of bills. “Look
at those tiny balls. Wonder if they still deliver a big hurt.” Tariq beamed the
piner boy’s privates. He wailed and thrashed across the ground. “Sounds
like a little girl. Zip it,” Rob added, beaming his face. The piner boy snapped
his mouth closed and sniffled through his nose. Rob blasted him again. “This
country was so much better before your type moved in.” Tariq slammed his foot
on the piner boy’s leg. A sharp crack of splintering bone echoed out. He kicked
again, ensuring the fracture was complete. “Hey,
get in on this.” Tariq motioned for Agustin to join. The street was empty, so
he turned toward the writhing piner boy. A soupy line of blood dribbled from
the boy’s mouth along with a frothy white foam. No sign of those wretched
fangs. He peered up with those piercing green eyes, almost pleading. “What
are you looking at?” Agustin smashed his shoe against the piner boy’s stupid
face with a squishy thud. “V-Town,”
Tariq yelled, tossing an empty beer can out the car window. “Best part is how
piners heal so you can beat the s**t out of them over and over.” “We
sure showed him, didn’t we?” Jimmy clapped, rocking in his seat. “We
are so coming back next week,” Rob added. “I
f*****g love V-Town,” Tariq whooped. “Perfect, if not for all the monsters.” Everyone
laughed except Agustin, who just stared out the window. “What’s
up with you?” Rob tugged at Agustin’s arm. “Yeah,
they sure are monsters,” he replied. This featured short story is part of The Carvings Collection - now available on Amazon. © 2014 drakevaughn |
StatsAuthordrakevaughnSanta Monica, CAAboutDrake Vaughn is the author of The Zombie Generation, along with many other pieces of dark fiction. His self-proclaimed "crinkled fiction" is a blend of horror, dark fantasy, and speculative fiction wi.. more.. |