M.A.Z.E
007: Like a Sack of Potatoes
Sara is moving now; she’s on her hands and knees when Cordelia grabs her arm and helps her to her feet. She takes the bartender by the chin and turns her to face me.
“You’ve just died,” Cordelia whispers into her ear. “You have the benefit of meeting your killer; the person who murdered you in cold blood and left you to rise again as an undead. Take your revenge, and feed.”
Sara doesn’t need to be told twice.
I make one final effort to escape Brady’s grasp but he still has me tight and I can do nothing to defend myself as Sara pounces. Her fingers claw at my shirt, ripping the thin defensive layer into shreds so she can dig into my flesh. Brady releases my mouth briefly, letting me expel what little air I have in a pained scream, then clasps his hand over my face again while my lungs are empty. The sound is terrible, I can hear flesh being torn more than I can feel it. I can hear the wet sloshing, feel her fingers inside me. Something hard is jabbing into my back.
This fucker really is getting hard off on this.
Cordelia grabs my hair and pulls, forcing my face downward so I can watch what’s being done to me and that just makes it worse. My body wants to vomit, but I’m not sure those parts are even connected anymore.
“Not everyday someone gets to watch their own insides get poured out onto the streets,” Cordelia rests her hand on Sara’s Shoulder and pulls. The bartender’s face is covered in my blood and when she pulls away a section of my intestine goes with her. Cordelia smacks Sara’s hand so she drops my guts.
“Hold on, dear,” Cordelia guides Sara a few steps away and helps her sit against the wall. “We don’t want this one dead yet.”
Brady finally releases me; not just letting me breath, but he pulls away completely and steps back. I don’t have the strength to stand and I topple forward like a sack of potatoes. My face bounces off the pavement; my arms are too weak to even brace the impact in the slightest. Jock 2 steps up and kicks me, rolling me onto my back, then starts stuffing my guts back inside the cavity of my torso.
“You get to live,” Cordelia returns to my side and crouches beside me. She bites her wrist again and reopens the fresh wound. “Forever. In a the dark hole of an unmarked grave, driven mad by the sounds of life walking over your head, craving their blood but too deep and weak to get it.”
She holds her wrist a foot over my face and lets her blood drip. I muster all my strength and turn my head away so the blood hits my cheek. Jock 2 slaps me, twisting my head back toward Cordelia. She straddles my chest as Jock 2 grips my head with both hands, one hand under my jaw so he can pry my mouth open. I don’t offer much of a resistance.
Fuck you, I think. I think it really, really hard, over and over again because I know I’m done, and there is nothing I can do to stop this. This is what I get for trying to rid my home of vampires; I get to live in a hole for the rest of existence.
“And there’s my second favorite look; acceptance of fate. You’ve lost, you’re broken. Just about ready to start training like a good little pet.” My lips part under Jock 2’s prying and the first few droplets run off my lips and onto my tongue. I hate how much I like it. “Maybe I’ll come back for you in a few decades and you can be one of my new puppies.”
I want her blood. My stomach is cramping, which is odd because I don’t think I have muscles there anymore. My body is fighting with me to spring up and take her arm. It wants me to bury my face in her open wound and engorge myself with her blood. Every nerve in my body is telling me they will scream in agony until I do it.
“Do it,” Cordelia whispers. Her voice echoes in my head, growing louder and louder with each second I refuse her command. I clench my eyes shut, I fight with everything I have. My brain is burning, my limbs are all pins and needles – I can’t! I lunge forward and snap at her arm like a rabid dog but she yanks away and stands, laughing. I try to stand and follow her arm but she kicks me in the face, putting me back down and rests her boot on my chest.
“Let’s go dig a hol-” Bella Vista’s Italian Bistro and Bar explodes beside us and the world goes pitch black.
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