A Tale of the Unnatural: November 2013

Friday, November 29, 2013

Chapter One Part Five

The young and powerful Remus, the gypsy king’s nephew, roared his fellow zombies into action. Men, women and children, ferocious, step up to face the vampires. A zombie’s strength is a match for any vampire’s, but where the vampire’s strength is channeled into speed and nimbleness the zombie’s is pure power. Steadfast like statues of stone a swing of an arm could knock anyone’s head off, human or undead alike.

Remus went straight for Agros. The zombie children though smaller were just as strong. In groups of three and four they climbed all over their chosen vampire. The gypsy women also worked in pairs or threes. Proud of the heritage of their earlier time as humans, the men preferred the individual confrontation. Actually there weren’t enough demons for everyone in the tribe.

Argos’ nest was small and overwhelmed.

(To Be Continued.)

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Chapter One Part Four

The growl of disgust mixed in with the snarl of anger from the just aroused gypsies. For a long moment the two camps did nothing more than shriek. The vampires spit with dry mouths trying to get rid of the horrid taste of dead flesh and the gypsies try to get their wits back. It was unimaginable that a vampire could be so stupid. Feed from a zombie? What?

Anger is the only real emotion a vampire can feel and their anger was blood red. “Destroy these animals!” was the mental signal Agros sent to his nest. Quicker on their feet than any zombie could be the hunters attacked their prey again, this time, not with open mouths but claws that ripped into the zombies, tearing bodies into pieces of putrid flesh.

A green and blackened liver explodes into goblets of gelatinous rot. Bones with rotten flesh still attached are used to club and break open the hairless skulls. Guts became whips in the hands of the demons beating the younger ones with their own innards. Brains are scooped up and thrown to burn in the fire. A horror of gore!

But the zombie gypsies are many.

(To Be Continued.)

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Chapter One Part Three

Agros’ preference for young children was well known within the nest. He always said the youngest are the tastiest. Their blood was uncontaminated by the trash accumulating in the blood stream over the years. Agros specially disliked drunks. It was too vinegary to enjoy. Good only for the very, very hungry.

He hovered between the wagons searching for his first bite of the night. There it was, a tiny baby that seemed to be feeding from its mother’ breast. Agros dived into the shadows, with his mouth wide open and his pearly fangs glistening.

His move was like a cue. The demons all came down on their chosen prey. Fangs chomped down into necks, groins and chests, each mouth searching for their favorite source of blood. Like wine, the taste of blood varies depending on the region - organ, vein or artery - it was found. Some liked it straight from the heart although it wasn’t easy to get through the rib cage. If you like Pinot Noir you probably won’t care for Merlot.

But Agros’ child tasted like shit!

(To Be Continued.)

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Chapter One Part Two

The fanged demons tore into the sheets that covered the sleeping bodies. Slivers of wood scattered in the air as the vampires broke through the wagon doors. The bolts and hinges were useless. One, then another, of the large sheets falls over the fire briefly darkening the surroundings until it too becomes part of the flames. Sparks dance in the air, twirling from the artificial breeze created by the vampires’ own swift movements.

Agros disliked the gypsies. He found them pretentious putting up for sale their supposed supernatural powers when he knew they had nothing of the kind. Today he will dine them. It would be fair. It was going to be like feeding from orphan children.

It was becoming hard to choose the best morsels, there were so many. The nest was acting like children at a candy store where it’s all free. They couldn’t make up their minds which to feed from first. Only a very few of the gypsies, actually turned to face the attackers.

(To Be Continued.)

Monday, November 25, 2013

Chapter One Part One

There is no creature with greater stealth than a vampire hunting. Agros, a prince of darkness, leads his nest towards a speck of light in the forest. Only the night owls turn their head in recognition. The vampires arouse no interest from the little scavengers of the night. It could have been immediately or a few seconds but in no time the nest of vampires was looking into the gypsy encampment.

A central fire is all the light in the campground. Intriguingly decorated wagons surrounded the fire asymmetrically. There were no empty spaces between them. Makeshift tents put together with ropes tied to the wagons and large colorful hanging sheets created the extra living space the tribe needed. No sentries could be seen. Nothing stirred, not even a mouse.

If Agros could feel happiness he would have smiled at the sight. It was going to be a blood fest. Without a signal the nest leaped into the encampment.

(To Be Continued.)