“There’s going to be more of them…” I said, and then, out of the woods, walked the vampires—more than four of them—dozens.
“What do we do?” Brad asked. “There’s nowhere to run.”
“The house,” I said.
“But it’s occupied.”
“Bring your sticks—it’s the only safe place.”
“Vampires don’t have manners—we’d better just enter,” Maddie suggested.
When we got inside, a vampire had a tall glass in one hand, and its fangs ready.
I gave it the spear, and it died.
The next swiped at me with its long fingernails—yellow, they were, as if they belonged to a smoker. She got her claws into me, when Maddie gave her the wooden spear, and the vampiress melted into the carpet, like a microwaved chimichanga.
The last one, had its back turned to us. It could’ve been meditating, but I knew it wasn’t, because vampires are the opposite of spiritual.
It turned around—all mouth and disgusting breath—jumping onto Brad, and sinking her teeth into his carotid artery, like an alcoholic at a Kegger party.
Maddie jammed her stick into the back of its head—and the creature went brain dead—it hissed, like air deflating from a flat tire.
Brad turned vampire. I had to kill him. It was the hardest thing to do—murdering my best friend, but his soul would be safe. I jammed my spear into his heart, and he expired.
I thought it was the end. The vampires were knocking on the sides of the house, when a searchlight lit-up the field and the voice of Mr. Lions came over the megaphone with a roar.
“This is my war, and I’m going to win!”
To be continued…