opened double doors. I was not about to leave but gaining cover was a must with the grenades about to burst inside there.
The hall provided more than enough shelter. I felt the blast as the walls shook, kicking up dust clouds and bellowing like an avalanche. I backed out toward the sun to wait out the cloud of dirt, as it took out the visibility. The screeches were deafening as the sound of concrete and glass shattered the silence outside. Dust clouds billowed out, swirling around like mist. I readied my dual machetes, sucking in a breath before the cloud enveloped me. I ran forward into the middle of the large room as the dirt settled down on clumps of concrete and metal. All over were feral vampires in different states of wither, some shattered beyond recovery, some struggling under debris.
The blast had not leveled the large, round hall. Instead, it had broken enough pieces of the arched roof to open beams of sunlight that streamed down into the dusty room like spikes. Some vampires were pinned under concrete chunks and writhed as they burned beneath the intensity of sun. It lit up the room well enough for me to see as the ones left untouched lunged for me. I swung both machetes, chopping into the first feral as it bared its dirty brown teeth at me, its red eyes gleaming. Its head flew off with one swing and dark crimson blood spurted from its stump of a neck and down the filthy shirt that it wore.
I continued swinging my blades, catching several through the chests or arms, leaving them with severed limbs or on the ground, missing legs and screaming at me. One reached out, grabbing my leg and squeezing its fingers around my jeans with its long, dark nails digging in. I swung one blade down, severing the hand and hacked at its head with the other blade, the sound of bone cracking and tissue squishing under it with every hit. The hand held onto my leg and I shook it loose, trying not to think about how disgusting that was. I slashed through two more that had climbed over a fallen block of roof and attempted to grasp at me with their hands. This was truly a fight of blade and teeth. I kicked one down and slashed its neck, then brought both blades to a cross in front of me and pulled back as the feral ran right into them, effectively decapitating itself with little effort on my part.
I had lost count of how many I had slaughtered. They were no match–I had become the monster killer in the room. My blades were sopping wet with thick clots of drying blood and ichor. The room took on a strong coppery smell as the dirt mixed with oily blood, swallowing the musty stench of the place with the overwhelming scent. I bit my lip to try not to think about the horrid smell. The aroma of death lingered with it, like a muck that tainted every surface of the place. The air seemed to grow thicker as I breathed hard, using up my energy quickly. The bite on my arm was screaming in protest as the muscle underneath the bite moved and stretched, contracting with every movement.
The adrenaline took care of some of the pain but I knew it would not last forever and really could not. Looking around as stillness overcame the room, I realized they were all down and dead. Every single feral that had leaped out at me was ripped to pieces, sliced into like cheese, bleeding guts and ichor all over the dusty marble floor. I waited, still semi-crouched with my knees bent and my swords out, still ready to slice into something else. Nothing came, though; they were all gone.
The silence seem to sober me up from my intoxicated state. I slowly stood up straight, examining the damage I had inflicted. A slight smile curled at my lips as I breathed in and out hard. It was an exhilarating high and I didn’t want it to end. For that one moment, the pain of losing my mother and brother felt righted, even for just a minute. I knew this was what I was made for, to kill these insolent creatures and bring their hives down. They were as unnatural to this world as
The hall provided more than enough shelter. I felt the blast as the walls shook, kicking up dust clouds and bellowing like an avalanche. I backed out toward the sun to wait out the cloud of dirt, as it took out the visibility. The screeches were deafening as the sound of concrete and glass shattered the silence outside. Dust clouds billowed out, swirling around like mist. I readied my dual machetes, sucking in a breath before the cloud enveloped me. I ran forward into the middle of the large room as the dirt settled down on clumps of concrete and metal. All over were feral vampires in different states of wither, some shattered beyond recovery, some struggling under debris.
The blast had not leveled the large, round hall. Instead, it had broken enough pieces of the arched roof to open beams of sunlight that streamed down into the dusty room like spikes. Some vampires were pinned under concrete chunks and writhed as they burned beneath the intensity of sun. It lit up the room well enough for me to see as the ones left untouched lunged for me. I swung both machetes, chopping into the first feral as it bared its dirty brown teeth at me, its red eyes gleaming. Its head flew off with one swing and dark crimson blood spurted from its stump of a neck and down the filthy shirt that it wore.
I continued swinging my blades, catching several through the chests or arms, leaving them with severed limbs or on the ground, missing legs and screaming at me. One reached out, grabbing my leg and squeezing its fingers around my jeans with its long, dark nails digging in. I swung one blade down, severing the hand and hacked at its head with the other blade, the sound of bone cracking and tissue squishing under it with every hit. The hand held onto my leg and I shook it loose, trying not to think about how disgusting that was. I slashed through two more that had climbed over a fallen block of roof and attempted to grasp at me with their hands. This was truly a fight of blade and teeth. I kicked one down and slashed its neck, then brought both blades to a cross in front of me and pulled back as the feral ran right into them, effectively decapitating itself with little effort on my part.
I had lost count of how many I had slaughtered. They were no match–I had become the monster killer in the room. My blades were sopping wet with thick clots of drying blood and ichor. The room took on a strong coppery smell as the dirt mixed with oily blood, swallowing the musty stench of the place with the overwhelming scent. I bit my lip to try not to think about the horrid smell. The aroma of death lingered with it, like a muck that tainted every surface of the place. The air seemed to grow thicker as I breathed hard, using up my energy quickly. The bite on my arm was screaming in protest as the muscle underneath the bite moved and stretched, contracting with every movement.
The adrenaline took care of some of the pain but I knew it would not last forever and really could not. Looking around as stillness overcame the room, I realized they were all down and dead. Every single feral that had leaped out at me was ripped to pieces, sliced into like cheese, bleeding guts and ichor all over the dusty marble floor. I waited, still semi-crouched with my knees bent and my swords out, still ready to slice into something else. Nothing came, though; they were all gone.
The silence seem to sober me up from my intoxicated state. I slowly stood up straight, examining the damage I had inflicted. A slight smile curled at my lips as I breathed in and out hard. It was an exhilarating high and I didn’t want it to end. For that one moment, the pain of losing my mother and brother felt righted, even for just a minute. I knew this was what I was made for, to kill these insolent creatures and bring their hives down. They were as unnatural to this world as
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