Outside Hell

by Milo Spires

  Then from the woods they’d heard a second noise and in response when they’d seen something eight foot tall in bear furs stepping out, they’d tightened their grips on the nine inch silver blades that were in their hands and prepared the battle that ensued.

  Inside even though they were used to killing humans through the war by either shooting them or simply gassing them because of their beliefs, this was different. They’d unbelievable fighting skills too and were fully trained in deadly hand-to-hand combat, and could each take down five soldiers from the SAS with ease. They were also genetically modified and twice stronger than a normal human being due to the DD10 drug that their scientists were giving them, but seeing Claudius and the huge shadow that his massive frame cast across the snow as he’d picked up speed into a frenzied charge, they’d instantly had second thoughts.

  Then as Claudius in full furs passed alongside the chopper towards them, the ground vibrated deeply with every step that the beast had made.

  The priest spun around in leather seats as Laouse flicked off the horrible sound coming out the speakers, and stared out the back window in horror.

  Dracus heard the choppers huge rotor blades making their deafening roar from a far and messaged Claudius as he’d vanished back into the woods,

  “Be Quick”

  Chapter 30 - Revenge

  As Sorchek was nearing the area on the map that he’d kindly borrowed from the dead pilot, he’d been surrounded by a band of forty vicious vampires that he’d contacted after getting signal coverage on his brick sized mobile, at the base of the hill where he’d smashed his leg.

  At the time he’d been utterly exhausted and all that was struggling to climb through his mind was the idea of a hot bath and bed, only as his energy had come back to him and his frozen body had thawed out from the extreme conditions that he’d endured, he’d thought fuck the bath, because he’d wanted revenge.

  In his mind he was thinking, ‘Those fuckers came up to the shack and smashed up the place, and then probably destroyed it too, because as I’d shot off on the snow mobile, I definitely heard a massive explosion coming from the hills behind me. They also shot my bikini babe’s with that weird shit that drugged them, so I bet they’re still alive in their base. After I rescue the chicks, I’ll build a new shack and they’ll love me so much for it that they’ll pleasure me for an eternity for free too. I’m coming for you you sick fucks and when I get there, I’m gonna kill you all.”

  Sorchek had been well aware that he was in no condition for a war, but reckoned that by the time he’d flown the hundreds of miles to where the map was leading him in Hungary, and with his super fast vampire healing that things would be different. He’d believed that his agonizingly painful leg wouldn’t be that bad by then, and as the primal rage took over and then flourished within his veins under the wash of the moons eerie glow, that he’d fight like a superhero and be so fast that he’d single handedly kill them all.

  Only as Sorchek with his ultra vampire vision had looked in front of him and seen the German hanger in the distance, and the super camouflaged snipers hiding on the cliff face by the family of eagles with the intense military presence beneath them, his superhero beliefs wandered, and he’d considered retreat.

  Then to justify his thoughts, he’d reasoned that he wasn’t well. His leg was still causing him agony and as he’d looked down at it, even though his upper body was well thawed out, the leg looked strangely worse. He’d never seen a wound turn black and gammy like his leg was doing, and was deeply shocked just seeing it that way. The other evil fuckers with him hadn’t helped either because when they’d spotted it, rather than trying to placate his self preservational worrying thoughts, they were telling him that he’d been touched by a portal demon and would soon be dead, rotting in hell.

  Sorchek had turned around to them after seeing the arsenal of tanks and machine gunners on the mile square tarmac beneath him, and said that he’d reckoned they might have to call the attack off. Then a moment had past and through the extreme sound of their massively beating wings as they’d plummeted down towards the pine trees like missiles, and in response to his comment, he’d received deeply hostile stares.

  They’d used his shack in the Carpathian Mountains to pleasure themselves, and often found themselves parting with large amounts of cash to enjoy his vamp women’s services in the bedrooms upstairs.

  Sorchek had promised them all from his brick sized mobile that if they’d come with him to Hungary to help him get revenge, when they’d got there everyone would get large amounts of riches to placate their financially drowned pockets of past. So hearing Sorchek suggesting retreat, and that the very notion of the idea would simply mean that after flying hundreds of miles through blizzards that they’d be going back empty handed, they’d snarled and refused.

  The band of forty vampires with him didn’t want retreat; they’d wanted the satisfaction of killing hundreds of humans, and tasting their thick warm crimson blood as it poured down their necks. They’d wanted to see their preys chests ripped open squirting fine red mist into the air, and to be able to reach down and then pull out their intestines before their death rattles finally consumed them. These vicious vampires were here to fight and wanted their victims screaming from deep terror, and the battlefield full of extreme blood soaked gore.

  The hundreds of soldiers beneath them would be nothing for them. They’d land and then walk out onto the tarmac from the tree line with the dark shadows running between them, and then the soldiers would hear them and look up with urine flowing down their legs at the sight before them. In response they’d lock and load their pathetic machine guns full of lead and then believing for a second that they were going to win, open fire at them. The soldiers would waste thousands of rounds until they’d finally realized that their lead bullets were useless, and then whilst piss was spraying out of their trouser legs into deep puddles, they’d leave their guns and try to flee into the arctic breeze. That would be the moment that they’d only have seconds more to swallow down their last few gulps of air, whilst lambs to the slaughter all of them would die a vicious, and extremely pain filled death.

  When Sorchek had rung his evil bastards asking for their help on his devilishly big mobile phone, he hadn’t told them that he’d seen the soldiers shooting his bikini chicks with strange bullets that had made them drop though. He’d feared that if he had, then they mightn’t have then been so easily persuaded to join him on the mission. Now though seeing so many soldiers with obviously advanced weaponry, and also realizing that he couldn’t persuade his vampires to call it off without telling them that he knew about the bullets, which he wasn’t prepared to do because they’d kill him for it, and sensing that any second they were going to charge the soldiers, he’d realized that soon his eternal life could be ending.

  Thinking quick as they’d ended their descent and finally crashed down through the deeply snow covered pine trees on the edge of the military installation, and with beads of perspiration flowing through him in his heightened state of panic, Sorchek tried a different angle. He’d told them that he’d just seen silver bullets reflecting the moonlight from above being loaded into a machine gun by the main door of the place, and reckoned that they’d better think of another way to attack.

  Ingrained into their very being no vampire ever wanted to risk their eternal life being revoked, and they all knew that silver bullets would do it too.

  Through the thousands of years that they’d lived and all the battles pre the 14th century that they’d been in, they’d never had to worry about the possibility of death as no one could kill them. The swords that were used were nothing more than mere steel and they could take several of them being rammed through their chests whilst just standing there watching their attackers. Then with evil grins they’d slide them back out of their gaping wound whilst occasionally and just for the humorous effect, then drop to their knees and pretend that they were dying, before leaping back up and then ripping out their throats with the
ir razor sharp and deeply ominous black fingernails.

  Only two things killed vampires outside of what also scared the shit out of them, that being holy water, crosses, werewolves, and the murderously oppressive sun.

  One of these things was having their head chopped off by any weapon regardless of it was fabricated in steel or silver, and the other was just the damn silver itself. They couldn’t touch even the smallest fragment of it like even a ring or a pendant without severe burns, and as the years past through the dark ages and the humans had learnt about their weakness for it, they’d forged new weapons in the stuff to kill vampires with. Then afterwards if they’d ever felt the bite from a silver blade as they were attacking their prey, if it was a small nick in their flesh they’d either bleed for days suffering the most intense pain but survive, or the wound wouldn’t heal at all and then they’d suffer the same excruciating pain, but the infection would tear through them and finally kill them. If they’d been impaled upon the weapon though, things were vastly different and resulted in instant agonizing death.

  Only as then more years past with the humans ever advancing further in technology and to their horror too, suddenly silver bullets became the norm in cases where vampires were expected to attack, leaving the hordes of the blood sucking beasts no choice but to retreat to avoid a heinous death.

  If they were shot by a silver bullet, the result would be an instant death in the same way as if they’d stood out in the morning sun to admire the views, as the glorious day prepared to unfurl itself before them. The silver would course like an infection of great magnitude through them, and as a result they’d scream in the most intense agony like their victims had, before succumbing to it and bursting into an intense ball of flames. The death would be agonizing and one that they’d do anything to avoid.

  Satan their creator hadn’t wanted his vampires when he’d created them to become artists, bankers, footballers, authors, gym instructors, road sweepers or anything else that humans did. His creations were designed for one purpose and that was to roam the nights keeping away from the sun, and killing the vulnerable humans when they were in their beds sleeping. Satan had designed them well too because with their need to taste human blood seeping down their throats daily, after the kill they’d provide him with revenge against god for throwing him out of Heaven, and also a deeply plentiful amount of souls that he could then relish in their eternal suffering. Only like with everything designed and built he was aware that some of his vampires had flaws, defected versions of his evil creations sought to avoid the killings of humans, and in turn they’d found that deer’s blood was a substitute to quell their predatory thirst for the thick crimson liquid.

  The prince of darkness had been consumed with rage upon realizing it, and then responded in kind to their rebellion against him. He’d created portal demons that would sniff out those vampires with deer’s blood in them, and then when touched by the portal demons skin, the vampire would die an even more agonizing death than if they’d felt the savage bite of a silver blade through them.

  *****

  After Sorchek had finished wincing in extreme agony from his gammy leg, and the forty vampires that were surrounding him in the far left of the pine trees had heard about the silver bullets, the palpable and extremely negative feelings towards his ideas of retreat had almost gone.

  They’d raised the conversation that he’d tried to have about retreat, and then said that maybe running under the circumstances sounded like the wiser and more favorable option. Then the others who were still blinded by their intense greed, and who weren’t so sure that there wasn’t another way to sneak into the hanger and surprise them, were still anti the idea of running.

  It was Sorchek’s fault though because he’d blinded them with extreme lies of gold bullion that was so vast in its quantities, that even if with their arms were full, and if they’d flown non-stop from the hanger back to Romania for a week, they’d still only scratch the surface of the gold that was stored in the place. Only strangely none of them had thought to ask him how he’d known about the gold, or even raised the subject upon seeing the military presence that they didn’t know about either. If they’d used their evil minds they could have figured out that he was lying, but all of them when he’d rung them on his brick sized mobile and told them about the gold, had only seen red mist before their brains and were consumed with the deepest levels of greed.

  Obviously he’d absolutely no knowledge of the fact that there was gold bullion in there, but Sorchek didn’t care about how he got most people to do stuff for him. If he’d had to lie and then stab most vampires in the back after helping him, he’d do it. Only this crew of evil bastards was different and he’d unfortunately known it too. They were customers of the shack and knew where he’d slept; to cheat on them, and if the shack wasn’t destroyed, would leave them turning up in their hundreds to destroy it, but also dragging him out and killing him violently too.

  Sorchek was careful of this and even though he’d lied to them about the gold, he’d a strange feeling that these soldiers would have other riches to placate his evil band of vampire’s greed.

  Only and unbeknown to Sorchek, Adolf actually did have a huge safe in the hanger that was full of gold bullion. His soldiers had stolen in through WW2 and when the hanger was built, he’d used it to pay for the future. The evil German leader so far hadn’t even scratched the surface of the tones of gold bullion in it either.

  Sorchek and his crew of vampires realized that for the time being they were stuck, and had no choice but to wait patiently in the trees hoping for an opportunity to attack. The snipers would see them if they’d try to fly up to the rocky cliff face, and then alert the army beneath of their presence. They also didn’t know if there wasn’t even more snipers watching and protecting those snipers. Then considering they’d kidnapped his bikini chicks they obviously knew about vampires, so they might have German shepherd dogs patrolling the area sniffing the air looking for them, and they’d hated them even more than snipers, because the dogs always knew when they were around too.

  Sorchek’s crew were very edgy though, and those suffering with the mesmerizing visions of themselves bathing in gold bullion might have chanced attacking themselves, only they’d also seen the eagles above the huge rock door, and knew then that the soldiers were serious vampire hunters.

  Eagles watch everything intensely and have the unbelievable ability to literally see a shadow within a shadow moving from miles away. Vampires couldn’t get around their stare, and if the eagles in their nest felt threatened, the birds of prey would attack them.

  Vampires had massive power and could fly fast with vicious fangs but eagles had the ability like MIG fighter jets to dive at them like missiles, and then with their razor sharp talons far longer than their own ominous black fingernails, they’d simply rip their faces to pieces and then fly away before being hit themselves.

  Sorchek and his crew new they were fucked, and had no choice but to wait and see if later through the early hours of the morning, and before the murderously oppressive sun reared its ugly molten head, that a chance of attack would present itself.

  They were also prepared to stay the day in hiding and to bury themselves under the snow, waiting until the following night to retry stealing the gold.

  Chapter 31 – The Fight

  As the rotors on Laouse’s chopper were spinning faster and faster sending clouds of snow out from underneath them in all directions, the priest was in the back glued to the window watching Claudius attack the group of soldiers.

  The first two soldiers who were two feet smaller than Claudius and much thinner in their overall body size were sure they wouldn’t loose. They’d come at him fast, thrusting their knives up in an upwardly strike towards his face. The deadly sharp double-edged silver combat knives that glistened in the early morning sunshine were also driven with extreme power and deadly precision too.

  The beast of a vampire with clenched fists in full charge simply smashed the bla
des out of his way as he’d piled into them. Then as the genetically modified soldiers in full black combat outfit and black ski masks had tried to go for a second strike, and also tried to topple the Bavarian monster with Krav Maga leg moves, death came for them in an usual way.

  Claudius brought both his fists down so hard on top of their heads that their skulls were blasted down deep inside their chests like cannon balls. The sound of their neck bones sheering off inside was disturbing, whilst also gallons of blood sprayed upwards out of their now empty shoulders, covering the snow a meter around their feet.

  The soldiers behind waiting for their turn had seen the way that the monster before them had just killed their comrades, and then from the fear that was suddenly installed within their souls, plus the thought that they’d also die if they’d tackled the beast, they’d run. They’d known Adolf views on leaving the battle were grim, and also what the punishment would be for doing so when he’d found out. He’d probably order their ‘decimation’, an old Roman way to install fear into his other soldiers, so they’d never leave the battle themselves. It would involve all those who’d run, simply having to stand there whilst the other soldiers then bludgeoned them to death with clubs. Only when they’d run from this monster, even knowing that Adolf would probably kill them for it by that sick way or a simple Lugar bullet through the head, somehow it seemed less disturbing than having their heads punched down inside their chests.