by Milo Spires
The first thing that had crossed his mind as he’d rotated around on his red leather captain’s chair; was the arrow in the chopper that had killed Heinrich. It had some strange powers that had not only killed his only friend, but also made the electrics to go haywire on the chopper. The forklift truck that they’d used to pull it out after Heinrich had succumbed to its lethal forces; had also developed strange problems. The engine stopped and then smoke had poured out of the dash, with the lights flashing wildly too.
Since Adolf’s studies of vampires had started forty years previously and the hundreds of Ponerology books that he’d read over the years, he’d never read anything about such things. The arrow had to be cursed by the bowman that his pathetic soldiers had spoken about in the woods. When they’d got back to the base in the morning and after he’d lost two more choppers to similar electrical failures, they were white with fear. They’d told him that they’d seen a bowman with a magical shield that was with an eight feet tall beast, resembling a Grizzly bear.
Adolf had laughed in response and wanted nothing more than to kill them for lying to him, only when he’d unlocked his Luger and was bringing it up to fire, he’d remembered the cursed arrow and suddenly realized that they were telling him the truth. The arrow had to have been fired by a bow, and then in turn the man or thing that could wield such a macabre instrument of death was probably an unusual looking bowman fellow too.
Then as Adolf thought into it some more, and swiveled around on his chair looking up into the bottle that he’d just poured himself a drink from, it came to him. He’d realized that he’d two choices and neither of them involved handing over the godly vampire that he’d had in the cells. He could either run leaving his loyal soldiers outside to fight the fanged beasts, or abandon that idea entirely and fight. Adolf was well aware that he’d a back door to the hanger leading out through a deep long tunnel to a chopper, but he didn’t like the idea of running for two reasons.
The first reason was because he didn’t know where this bowman dude was and flying anywhere was really not safe considering all the choppers that he’d lost of recent.
Then there was the second reason, the voice in his head. He’d suffered mental torment for many years and only managed to escape it, when he’d moved into the place. He couldn’t risk those voice of the old boy catching him again, and was sure that if he’d left the sanctity of his lead lined hanger, that he’d be floating around outside waiting for him. The voice of Raffious that had consumed his mind through the war would find him again, and then he’d be a prisoner of the evil bastard or worse, the old boy would be so furious that he’d escaped his wrath that he’d kill him instead. There was definitely no way that he would allow that fucker in his mind again, and to run wasn’t in his resume either, so he’d fight. He’d then reasoned that he’d got the outside of the hanger heavily fortified and the bullets were all silver, so he didn’t know what he was worrying about because he couldn’t possibly loose anyway.
Adolf also realized that his error so far was to wait until they were attacked, leaving the undead vampires to swarm the place at their leisure. He was an aggressive military beast and didn’t defend he attacked, storming into countries that he wanted to takeover. That was the way he fought and even though he’d lost the war, it hadn’t been his fault. The old boy had been controlling his mind and making the decisions through most of it for him, all he was through the war was Raffious’ lame ass puppet. Then after leaping up from his office desk to pour himself another stiff drink and leaving out the ice, a second had passed and as he’d watched the liquid whilst licking his lips, suddenly the grandfather clock to his left had chimed. Taking that as his cue, the leader of men then craned his neck back and downed the harsh liquid in one. Then taking a second to again appreciate the burn he’d considered whether he should pour himself another, but as his hand had reached for the bottle, he’d abandoned the idea and smashed the glass in the open fire place and reaching for his desk phone instead.
Then after he’d placed it to his ear for just a second, the receiver on the other end hadn’t rung more than once before it was snatched up, and the soldier with the phone some inches away from his head then painfully listened to Adolf’s slurred from whiskey screaming in his head. In response to his orders he’d stamped his heels hard in the ice beneath himself, and then said “yes sir” and the receiver went dead.
Outside in the square mile of icy tarmac, the officer that was in charge of the battlefield and who’d just taken the call; then turned around and screamed out the orders. A second passed and then in response to their commanding officer, fifty soldiers who’d just been watching the tree line suddenly charged back inside the rock doorway instead.
The family of eagles that were looking down on them from high above, and who’d spotted all the un-dead being’s in the pine trees a while back whilst snuggling closer to protect their young, then watched the same soldiers reappear beneath them, only they were wheeling out 8cm Granatwerfer mortars, and preparing to fire. The orders they’d been given were simple. Fire the mortars deep into the snow covered pine trees at a range of four hundred meters, and make sure that the whole forest was hit at that range simultaneously. Then after they were sure of the complete devastation, they were told to wind in the mortars to hit ten meters in from that range, and then after devastating that area too, then wind in a further ten meters and continue the process until they’d destroyed a huge expanse of forest but stop before they’d reached the traps. Adolf believed as the noxious liquid had gone down his throat and frazzled his brain, that if the forest was full of the un-dead waiting the next half an hour or so until darkness fell, then by blowing up the tree line from back to front, he’d force the vampires forwards into the traps that his soldiers had built.
When they’d moved into the top secret installation, the leader of men had massive trenches dug twenty feet into the tree line that covered the entire length of the forest. These pits or trenches were then filled with timber poles that’d been shaped into deadly spears by old machetes, and to conceal the entrances afterwards they were covered with thick branches and leaves.
Then as another measure and in the middle of the process he’d had silver laced netting put down in them, connected to a trigger mechanism. When the vampire was impaled on the spikes and because of it, the mechanism would trigger and then a huge net would fly up from the soil floor beneath. The bloodsucking fiend as he was then squirming in agony with massive holes through him, would be hoisted up fifty feet into the air.
Also when they’d moved in to the hanger he’d reasoned that if you’re in the business of catching vampires, then to be prepared for the worst eventualities made sense.
Adolf had another surprise for them when the mortar bombs went off. If they flew up like pigeons trying to escape, or attack from the air, he’d installed gun turrets filled with .50 cal solid silver bullets above the front door of the place.
The leader of men as he’d necked back another glass full of the blistering strong liquid, felt sure that if the un-dead did attack him this night, then apart from the soldiers, tanks, plus the MG40 machine gunners that were outside, he’d felt sure they’d loose.
Chapter 34 – The Impact
Meanwhile to the East of the entrance and as the sun slipped down behind the mountain range saying farewell to the family of eagles, promising that it would return to see their young in the morning, the cursed arrow had hit Raffious. It had gone straight through his back and burst out the left of his chest, bringing with it copious amounts of blood and flesh.
Instantly the old boys face had turned deathly white, and then as he’d looked down and seen the shaft glistening up at him, a second later he’d coughed deeply and black blood suddenly spurted vehemently up his throat and poured out over the sides of his lips too.
A moment passed and then deep terror racked his brains. Raffious knew he was in deep trouble. Then turning around in the second that he had before the thing consumed him, he’d scanned t
he tree line around the edge of the tarmac but couldn’t see anything. Then as he’d looked again and studied the tree line, far off into the distance he could see the silhouette of a man running fast through it. He was keeping within the tree line but moving at unbelievable speeds towards him. The old boy wondered who it could be, and at the same moment suddenly his vision clouded within and his mind was filled with strange thoughts. Raffious blinked vehemently desperate to clear his mind, only when he’d come around and then looked again, the runner was lost to the dense trees that were circling towards him.
Raffious was now panicking deeply for the very nature of experiencing death, and in response he’d instantly cast a spell to save himself by thought alone. Of recent his spells had vastly improved, and this was his newest way to create them, although he still liked to swipe his finger in the air ‘when he wasn’t dying’ because he’d felt that it looked more befitting for a sorcerer to do so. Then as the spell was cast and fearing that the runner would be upon him within seconds, he’d turned himself invisible before his attacker reached him. Raffious was aware that there was a blood trail though and that the bowman would know his arrows when he’d arrived, figuring his prey must be invisible because he wouldn’t have moved an inch from the spot where he’d fired it into him.
Evil energy sucked itself into the forest behind him and then suddenly his whole body begun to spasm violently. The arrows evil powers were coursing their way through his veins, and bringing with it the deepest kind of savage pain. Only a moment past and like he’d just had a shot of morphine, instantly the pain vanished. Then in response the old boy tried to raise his arms, but found to his horror that his limbs were now useless.
Then as the sun had passed the point of no return and the deathly feint light from above blinked rapidly, suddenly the battle was lost in the heavens and as a result darkness consumed the land.
Then a second later and as a blast of wind had hit him, Raffious was unable to stop his paralyzed body from sinking deep into a deep snowdrift and falling over. The icy cold feeling raced downwards from his face, and sent deep chills through his dying frame. Only as a second had then past and then from behind him he’d heard the tremendously heavy sound of thick branches snapping underfoot, he’d grinned inwardly because he’d realized that it wasn’t his bowman friend, but the creatures from his last evil spell. Then another second past and the noise was masked by the sound of deep growling and dark shadows the size of Rhino’s appeared, heading down through the snow filled and deeply foreboding pine forest towards him. Then as he’d expected suddenly the air stank heinously from their deep odor, and with another second passing he was totally surrounded by their massive frames looking down at him.
His werewolves were ready to serve him.
Raffious unsure of how long he’d left to live, and through his desperation to avoid death told his beasts to pull the arrow out from his chest. The first nearest to him had leant down, and then after clamping its massive jaws around the shaft, the cursed arrow had paralyzed the werewolf and it froze.
Raffious who was now succumbing to the beginnings of his death rattle frantically changed his command and told another to viciously pull it out of him. The old boy knew it would hurt like hell but with seconds left before death he didn’t care, and then clenched his teeth ready for the searing pain that he’d felt would ensue. The second werewolf then stepped in towering over him and craned it’s neck back joined by the rest of the pack that amounted to fifty, and unaware of the impelling danger to its master should it delay for but a second, and before it grabbed the arrow with Raffious looking up in shock, together the fifty beasts howled. Then after the intensely demonic sound that sent the soldiers into a frenzy of deep concern just hearing it, and also made the bowman stop instantly in his tracks, the beast responded. It leant down with its massively shinning grey neck and furry grey lips, and then in one swift aggressive motion, it ripped the thing out of him. The power that it had used was so severe that as it was savagely pulled through his body, the lumped end of the arrow had happily grabbed out another handful of flesh and veins. The old boy even with his teeth clenched, had felt so overcome by the intense pain that he’d nearly past out.
The beasts all around him then snorted in some kind of triumphant way. A second past and as the stale air coming up their throats passed their black tongues wafting down into the old boys face who was laying beneath them, Raffious took once sniff and almost puked all over himself. The beasts breaths were utter vile and literally stank like rotting corpses.
Raffious who was nearly fully submerged in the freezing cold snow and now free from the arrows dark curse, instantly arched his back and coughed up a pint of black blood. The dark liquid leapt forwards only a few inches and then as gravity had taken hold, it splatted down in a crimson puddle all over his knee length white beard.
A second past and then the old boy could feel his legs again, and another second past and his body came back to him, but the pain inside him was even greater than before.
Only now having the freedom to think again without the evil from the cursed arrow trying to consume him, Raffious feebly raised his finger and past it across his chest. As he did and as the archaic words from his mouth had aired up into the night sky, so instantly his body was healed again. Then with another few words the blood had vanished on his beard and was also gone from his clothing too.
Scrabbling to get back up he was furious, and then instantly sought out revenge for the fucking arrow being shot into him.
Turning to the pack of huge werewolves that stood up on their hind legs towering five feet above him, he’d smiled at them and then held out his finger pointing into the forest and told them to find the bowman and kill him. The ground thundered with their departure and from their hind legs, the snow that was a meter deep in places suddenly flew back him as they’d burst off into the dark woods seeking their prey.
Meanwhile as the mortars were being loaded into the meter length tubes and the soldiers were waiting for the green light to fire from their ferocious leader, Dracus the bowman was running for his life. He’d heard the beasts and although he’d joined the coven after their huge war with the werewolves, the sound of these demonic creatures as it had reverberated back through the woods at him, told the bowman that his cursed arrows would be useless against all of them and he’d loose.
Then as he’d turned around by literally grabbing the first tree in front of him at his ridiculous running pace and swinging around it, thrusting himself back into forest the same way he’d come, he’d doubted he’d escape. Then as he’d charged past the same trees he’d only moments before passed in the opposite direction, his mind was connected with his ears more than they should have been. He was listening to the massive thunderous crashing noises that were fast approaching from his rear.
Dracus knew that to keep running would result in his death and if he’d wanted to save Eldor and see his love Janus again, he’d only truly one card left to play. The bowman slammed to a halt and then even though he’d feared the result, he’d no choice and summoned a portal.
The arctic air that was in front of him suddenly cracked down in a straight line and the gap that appeared within in, sparkled back at him.
Dracus was filled with relief seeing it appear and then without sparing a second, and as he’d heard the last few seconds of deep grunting and massive crashing behind him, he’d leapt inside the portal and it vanished.
*****
Adolf’s commanding officer had just replaced the outside phone to the leader of men when the beasts had missed their prey by inches. The sound that they’d made from the now intensely dark forest a mile away was beyond evil, and as it coursed its way through the trees, even Sorchek heard it. The vampire in response and needing no introduction to the beasts since his last chase through the blackthorn bushes; then leapt up into the air beating his massive wings. He didn’t like the idea of chancing silver bullets, but to hear the sound of a whole pack of werewolves charging through the
woods towards him, he’d thought fuck the gold, retreat.
The crew of evil vampires that were with him and who were desperately seeking another way into the hanger to avoid the silver bullets, had seen him flee and knew the reasons too. They didn’t wait around to deliberate either. All their visions of the gold and the fun that they’d have ripping apart the soldiers with urine spraying into deep pools from their trouser legs, were gone. The sound was thunderous, as they’d opened out their black ribbed wings spanning three meters either side of them, and then roared up into the sky. Only as they were on the edge of the tree line, the soldiers had seen their dark silhouettes, and then responded instantly.