Fall Prey: The Hunt

by Dallas Massey

  “Clear!” Ito yelled back to Tarango through the open door.

  Asher moved back to his point of domination. He and Ito stood, holding their positions, as several more all clears echoed through their helmets. They were all ordered to wait in their assigned rooms until Tarango gave the confirmation.

  Asher heard the sound of gun blasts coming from the far room, followed by the sound of more gunfire from outside. He was certain the remaining vampires had leaped from an open window, escaping their first line around the house. He heard the howls of the hounds in the distance, excited by the scent of their intended prey, finally losing their composure and becoming feral beasts. They were the living nightmare of all fool bloodsuckers.

  Asher heard the screams of the vampires as well. One of the cries was higher and shriller than the others, suggesting a smaller individual. The vampires’ screams suddenly became higher in pitch, transforming into the tortured shrieks of dying hellspawn. It would have been better if they had stayed in the house. Death by shotgun blast was preferable to bloodthirsty hellhounds tearing them apart.

  “All clear!” yelled Tarango, having finished his check of the third floor.

  Asher and Ito abandoned the room as soon as they heard the order, exiting to find the lieutenant waiting for them at the end of the hall. Driscoll, Milo, and a half dozen other personnel joined them.

  “Hatchets! Let’s take care of those heads!” bellowed Tarango, rushing back toward the stairs. “I see six assailants! I want to see six headless vamps!”

  He apparently hasn’t spent any time looking over the corpses, Asher thought to himself.

  Several personnel, Asher included, took their light but extremely sharp hatchets from their belts.

  “Will six body parts do, sir?” Ito yelled back at Tarango. “Let’s see...” she turned to look down the stairs and counted until she reached the end of the hallway. “I can get you three heads, two arms, and a foot!”

  “Don’t be a smart aleck, Sergeant Ito!” Tarango shouted back at her through his helmet. “I just need proof that we found six assailants and eliminated six assailants!”

  “You go take care of the blonde over there, Blackthorn!” Driscoll shouted at Asher, pointing his hatchet toward the female at the other side of the hall. He rushed past the blonde’s corpse on his way to whatever vamps still had their heads. Milo followed close behind him.

  As Asher approached the felled vampire, he thought he saw her begin to stir as though from sleep. The movement was so slight he thought his eyes deceived him, stressed as he was. He was no more than ten feet away when the vampire suddenly looked up at him, making him jump backward.

  “Mercy?” she pleaded, pure insanity reflected in her crystal blue eyes.

  “Sorry, no mercy for vamps,” said Asher coldly. He advanced, his hatchet raised to strike.

  He felt a strange sensation wash over him as he looked into her eyes, something alluring yet psychotic, promising pleasure but intent on pain. Regardless, Asher just couldn’t look away. She promised to give him everything he ever wanted with her gaze, though he could feel it would come at great cost. He didn’t care anymore. He was willing to pay the price. The only thing he could see now was the beautiful woman before him and her enchanting cool, blue eyes.

  “You don’t show mercy to your victims,” said Asher, barely uttering the words before surrendering to her cruel seduction completely. “You’re pretty torn up anyway. You won’t last much longer. Death is your mercy.”

  “We only kill because of what we are!” The vampire gave him a venomous glare, her alluring gaze suddenly disappearing. “It’s what we have to do to survive!” Asher’s words had struck a chord, agitating her to such an extent that she could no longer keep up her spell.

  “No, you murder to survive.” Asher returned to his senses. “You give in to your primal urges and murder, never seeking any other way. I kill to protect the innocent from you.”

  “You won’t kill me,” she whispered, beginning her seduction anew.

  Asher stood there motionless, trapped in her hypnotic spell once more.

  The vampire slowly rose from the pool of blood in which she sat, her tattered entrails hanging loosely from her wound as she walked toward him. Asher lost sight of everything but her eyes. She was nearly upon him now, reaching for his throat.

  Just as she grasped for him, a hatchet suddenly flew across the room, striking the vampire in the forehead.

  She hissed as she fell to the ground in a heap.

  Asher turned back around to see Milo looking back at him, panicked astonishment reflected in his large, pixie-like eyes.

  “Don’t hesitate, Blackthorn!” Milo yelled at him. “The most dangerous vamp is one that isn’t quite dead yet!”

  Asher stood there, slowly recovering from his confusion.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, Blackthorn,” said Sergeant Ito. She walked toward him behind Milo. “Tarango needs whatever heads he can get.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Sergeant,” said Milo, rushing around Asher. “Need to get my hatchet back anyway,” he muttered.

  Asher remained rooted in place as the last effects of the vampire’s spell wore off, watching Milo as he took care of her head.

  Milo took a firm hold on her hair as he wrenched his hatchet free from the center of her forehead, pulling her neck forward so that it lay prostrate before him. He plunged his hatchet into her neck and, after two quick chops, separated her skull from the vertebrae, blood pouring from the headless neck like water from a faucet. Holding her severed head, he pulled a cloth sack from his belt and slipped the grisly trophy inside. Milo twisted the top of the bag closed, tying it around his belt to rest beside the other head he had taken.

  “What the heck did she just do to me?” Asher asked, turning to find Ito still standing behind him. “She used her eyes to put me under some kind of spell.”

  “Yeah, I suppose you new guys probably haven’t addressed it in class yet.” Ito shrugged. “Some vampires, actually quite a few really, have hypnotic abilities. Nothing supernatural or anything. They can just use their eyes to hypnotize and disorient you for short periods. It works best on the opposite sex, so you’ll have to watch the females.”

  “Let’s pack it up, people!” Tarango yelled over Ito. “The captain wants our platoon gathered back on the first floor!”

  Chapter XVII

  Spoils of Victory

  “How did the hellhounds do out there, sir?” Tarango asked Kilgore as the captain stepped through the house’s open doorway.

  Night had fallen, and Tarango’s platoon had remained in the house as they waited for Kilgore’s order to pack it all back in and head home.

  “Not bad, though not as good as I would have hoped,” said Kilgore as he went to stand at the side of the stairs. ”One of them, Garm, is a beast. He got loose from his handler when those vamps were making their way out of the house. Tore one apart by himself and started on another before the rest of the hounds caught up. Those dogs are savages, which is what we want, though they’re a little hard to handle sometimes.”

  “How many did they end up catching, sir?” Tarango casually leaned against a column embedded in the wall. “We got six in here.”

  “They took care of the last two, or at least what we hope was the last two.” Kilgore stared into space, thinking. “I guess there’s the possibility that we miscounted, and one of them got away. As quick and brutal as those hounds are, I highly doubt they would miss one.”

  “Have any trouble rounding the hounds up, sir?” Tarango asked, his curiosity aroused.

  “No, not at all.” Kilgore shook his head. “After they took care of the vamps, they became their big, slobbery selves again, just covered in blood.”

  “What about the kid?” Tarango looked at the floor regretfully. “Did they tear her apart too?”

  “Left the child alone completely,” said Kilgore, still slightly dumbfounded by the fact. “Wasn’t a vampire at all, just some abducted chil
d, or at least that’s what it looks like. She might be the offspring of one of these vamps before they were bit, I don’t know. It looks like they kept her around as some kind of pet.”

  “I will never understand some of these bloodsuckers!” Tarango shook his head. “I take it you haven’t got an ID on her?”

  “We haven’t been able to identify her yet. That’s why we have no idea if she was abducted or belonged to one of them. She’s around five or so and not much for talking. No idea if she’s just being quiet or if she actually can’t. Not giving us much at all either way.”

  “What are we going to do about the little girl’s memories of past events?”

  “Not really much of a problem at the moment, you know, since she doesn’t say anything. She’ll have no problem remembering something like this, though no one will ever believe her. On the other side of it, maybe some of the things she saw were just so traumatic that she’ll drop them from her mind. Who knows? One thing is certain, though, somebody’s going to have to cough up a fortune in counseling for her.” He paused for a moment, expecting at least a chuckle from Tarango.

  All he received was silence.

  “And the basement still hasn’t been cleared, Lieutenant?” Kilgore moved onto the situation at hand.

  “The basement has stayed untouched as you ordered, sir.” Tarango looked concerned. “I posted guards by the door, just in case more assailants are unaccounted for. Just as a personal concern though, sir, exactly why are we leaving the basement unclear? It kind of goes against common sense, sir. Dangerous to leave it like that.”

  A foreboding called out to them as they spoke, echoing to them from the heavy metal door at the corner of the living room.

  “Did you try to blind any occupants with a flash-bang or soften them up with a grenade?” Kilgore ignored Tarango’s objections.

  “No, sir. You never really clarified earlier. You said you didn’t want it cleared, so we left it untouched.”

  “Has the door been breached yet?”

  “No need, sir. It’s unlocked.”

  “Kind of reckless for them to leave it like that.” Kilgore chuckled, shaking his head. ”No evidence of any kills around or even in the house, and there they go leaving what is likely their larder unlocked. I tell you, these vamps, they must be blood drunk off their butts 24/7.”

  “It’s a heavy door, sir. Too heavy for a single man to open. I doubt they felt it needed a lock.”

  “Evans! Salvo!” Captain Kilgore turned to the mass of personnel loitering on the other side of the room. “Put your guns down and go open that door!“ he commanded, pointing toward it.

  A short, squatty blond man and a wiry, Hispanic woman rushed from the crowd to the assigned point, each grabbing one of two handles.

  “Wait a second.” Kilgore held up an open palm to stop them. “We might have miscounted the number of assailants. Let’s get someone to cover you.” He gazed upon the gathered crowd once more, choosing carefully. “Harkman! Rogers! Get over there and cover that door!”

  “But, sir, Evans and Salvo will not be clear of our shots!” Milo objected, dragging his feet.

  The chilling presence in the room continued to intensify.

  “Hazards of the job, Private!” The captain smiled, acting oblivious.

  Milo looked at him as though he were insane.

  “If there’s a vamp hiding down there, we don’t want to risk it getting loose,” Kilgore told them. “Evans and Salvo are already dead if one of them breaks out right now! Best to shoot first and ask questions later when we know there are vamps around!”

  “Stand off to the other side of the door!” ordered Kilgore. “It will be your best bet if you don’t want your guns pointed right at them!”

  Milo and Rogers took up shooting stances as they stood to the side of the door, prepared to follow the captain’s orders no matter how apathetic he acted.

  Evans and Salvo struggled with the door, unable to make it budge.

  “Come on, you’re going to have to do better than that to get that door open!” bellowed Kilgore, frustrated.

  “Going to need more than two of us if you want it open,” said Salvo, letting go of the handle.

  “Let’s see…” the captain looked toward the crowd once more, his eyes quickly settling on Asher. “Blackthorn, go over there and help them with that door. It’s heavier than I thought.”

  Asher tightened his gun strap and made his way over to the door. He put both hands on the higher of the two handles, above Salvo’s.

  “All at once, guys,” said Asher as they pulled in unison.

  Though the door was heavy, Asher’s added strength tipped the balance, and the apparatus slid open.

  “Oh, my gosh…” Asher gasped, the door open only a crack. “What the heck is that smell?” Even as he asked, he knew what the odor was.

  It was the stench of rotting human flesh, so strong and severe that it made him light-headed.

  “Ahh! Captain, the smell is bad enough to make my eyes bleed!” Salvo complained, looking as though she might bolt from the door.

  Several of the remaining personnel waved their hands around in an attempt to dissipate the foul odor. Several more put their hands over their noses.

  “They’re freakin’ vamps, people!” the captain yelled back at them. “Their food caches always smell like festering dung heaps. Heck, if you think that’s bad, you should check their bathrooms. That always makes for a good time.”

  Asher and his comrades had the door open now, a task nearly halted because of the smell. He alone leaned against the door to keep it open. The opening, dark and foreboding, made him anxious.

  “Turn on your flashlight attachments, people!” demanded Kilgore. “No telling what’s down there!”

  “You go ahead and hang back, Blackthorn,” he spoke directly to Asher. “I already fed you to the wolves once tonight.”

  “Evans! Salvo! Harkman! You come down into the basement right behind me and help clear the place! You over there!” The captain turned back to the group of soldiers who still stood in the living room, bored with idly standing there. “Follow us down there and back us up!”

  Multiple soldiers moved toward the doorway. Kilgore quickly had all the personnel he needed, thirty or so of them all around him.

  “Don’t you think that’s a little over-cautious, sir?” asked Tarango, still leaning against the column off to the side of the captain. “Even if we miscounted, it’s unlikely there’s more than a couple down there.”

  “Don’t give me that, Lieutenant! Hard to have too many men when you take out the vamps. Like I always say, ain’t no kill like overkill! Here we go!” Kilgore alerted the gathered personnel.

  The captain took a flash-bang from the pack of the soldier in front of him and lobbed it through the doorway. A parade of quick steps moved down the stairs ringing out as the line of personnel disappeared into the darkness.

  Hearing no shots fired, Asher moved away from the door, forgetting he was the only thing keeping it open. As he turned to catch it, he found it was stuck there in a resting position, too heavy to close.

  “We’re all clear down here!” Kilgore called back from the bottom of the basement, his booted feet striking the wooden stairs as he made his way back up. “Tarango! Get the rest of your platoon down here to see this! It is absolutely disgusting! Ought to be a good learning experience for them. Have the message relayed outside to Lieutenant Roth as well. Might as well show everyone the sights!”

  Kilgore made his way back up the remainder of the stairs and peered around the doorway, turning to where Asher stood stationed at the door.

  “Blackthorn!” he proclaimed. The captain spoke to Asher as he stepped back through the doorway. “You need to see what’s down there!”

  “Come on down!” Kilgore yelled at the remaining soldiers still standing near the staircase, waving them toward him. “You stay up here, Tarango, and make sure Roth’s platoon gets in here.” The captain sprinted back toward the door,
fifteen or so soldiers following him.

  Asher proceeded into the basement, finding it no longer dark. Someone had found the light. He gasped as he crossed the threshold, the smell more awful than he had imagined. Below lay an indescribable horror show, the scene unfit for the eyes of man. Though it was necessary to light the way, the illumination revealed every morbid detail. Asher remained at the top of the stairs, hesitant to proceed down, frozen in place by what he saw. The smell continued to burn into his eyes and nasal passages as though it put a stranglehold around his brain.

  Shaking his head, he regained his senses and descended into the basement. He needn’t traverse the stairs to see the innumerable corpses and body parts littering the place, all in various stages of decay. Partially skinned corpses hung from meat hooks with blood buckets situated underneath. Many of the other corpses, some of them quite small, were no more than piles of bones, the flesh stripped away. Bloody, severed limbs and heads sat on jagged, wooden tables, some partially eaten.

  Asher only managed to view the sight for a few moments at a time. He looked away periodically and retched slightly, barely holding onto his last meal. The inhuman barbarism repulsive and beyond enraging, made him feel as though bullets were too merciful for the wretches responsible for the carnage below.

  We should have crushed them with a steamroller, he thought to himself. Starting from the toes up so they would feel every ounce of pain.

  Ill as he felt, Asher fared better than most. Several of his comrades actively vomited. Some managed to find a bucket, while most spewed the contents of their stomachs onto the bloodied floor.

  Asher neared the bottom of the stairs, finding Aaron and Sergeant Ito standing nearby.

  “Don’t they believe in refrigeration?” asked Aaron, turning to Asher. “It smells like the bowels of Hell down here!”

  “How’s it going?” asked Asher, stepping onto the floor, ignoring Aaron’s complaint.

  “Not bad. Well, except for the smell,” Aaron enthusiastically shook his head. “No action on the second floor, which is good, I guess. I missed out on giving it to the vamps, but whatever. Better than what you guys saw on the third floor. The sergeant told me there were six up there.”