Outside Hell (9 page)

“Well hurry back because Santa will be coming
soon.” She’d replied as he’d then casually stepped out into the
arctic night air.

Turning he’d smiled back at her but at the
same time Silvia saw a hand appear from the side of the doorway in
the shade of pale death. Dropping her Sherry, and in response,
she’d made the most horrible most of wailing screams.

Yohan sensed danger but was too late. Then as
he’d turned, Sorchek’s nails were already deeply buried within his
neck.

“Yohan.” His mother cried out, as her son’s
throat then sprayed everywhere like a fountain of red.

Sorchek in plain sight of Silvia snatched her
son’s head back, and then viciously to the side. Grinning at her
for but a second, he’d turned his head and then with his
paleolithic fangs glistening in the moonlight, he’d sunk his face
into her sons gaping wound.

Yohan’s eyes faded and his death rattle
began, consuming him to the end.

BOOM

Sorchek rips his face away from Yohan and
drops the dead body into the snow beneath him. Turning around to
look into the night, suddenly there was a second boom and the
night’s air is filled with a wholesomely bright flash.

This time the vampire stumbles backwards and
crashes into the cottages doorframe.

Looking down he’s horrified to see that there
were two fist sized holes going straight through, and leading out
the back of his chest.

As the shotgun’s cartridges were changed, and
then afterwards closed hard with it’s ominous steel against steel
click, Sorchek stumbles through into the kitchen with his own blood
squirting into the air.

Grandpa meets him at the bottom of the
stairs, his face holding only one shade, that being the shade of
death.

As the third boom was heard, the doorframe
explodes; bits of wood and stonework fly up and go everywhere.

Sorchek grins as grandpa clutches painfully
at his chest. The old man sags dropping to his knees as his own
death rattle begins.

The vampire wonders if maybe Santa might have
been the one with the shotgun, only he knows the bearded stranger
had no presents for him, so dares not to wait around and see.

Charging past the dying old man, Sorchek
leaps up and crashes through the lounge window, taking the curtains
with him and sending shards of glass everywhere.

(Secret German Military
Base, Kov
á
csszenaja - Hungary – 22
^nd
December 1980)

The first rays of the scintillating morning
sunshine, changing from white to gold said fair well to the mists
phantom tendrils, as it burnt its way down through and warmly lit
the side of the rocky ridge, with its soft hues of golden
brown.

Its rays truly welcome as they tickled the
feathers of a mother eagle who’d just ripped apart a rat to feed
her babies with. Its skin stretching under the pressure as the
bigger bird with her massive talons and razor sharp beak,
desperately sought the goodness from within.

All the while dad was away soaring through
the brisk morning air, and searching the vast open snowy
countryside and tangled undergrowth that ran alongside the river
Dunar, hoping for bigger prey such as rabbits or small deer to
bless them with.

A thousand feet below the edge of their nest,
and at the base of the cliff face that they’d chosen to raise her
kids on; hundreds of genetically modified German soldiers marched
two abreast in long lines, with frozen expressions across their
faces. The swinging and jostling of their rifles, plus stern
echoing cries and synchronized stamping of their feet, rudely
imposed on the peace and tranquility of their feathery neighbors up
above.

All around heavy tanks, light tanks, armored
cars and other old German military vehicles hummed and crunched as
their heavy block tires and steel tracks, charged backwards and
forwards across the square mile of icy tarmac that was beneath
them.

Huge vertical cliffs that were hundreds of
feet in height surrounded the top-secret military installation,
providing the perfect shelter from prying eyes. To the south dense
pine forests standing mostly in a soldiered fashion and almost
suffocating from over population, with a winding pathway through
the center, offered the only way in and out.

Working fast in a huge patch of shade
underneath the eagle’s nest and close to the main entrance,
delivery trucks had their backs down and were being unloaded. Huge
crates of supplies were checked under the watchful eye of their own
snipers, and then when approved being wheeled inside.

To the left of the entrance army choppers
were parked four a breast with teams of mechanics buzzing around
them. Their massive silhouettes and four rotor heads were casting
distancing shadows and blocking out the suns energy from the deep
snow that was beneath them.

At the same time on their sides, Laser guided
cannons were being reloaded with thousands of rounds of bullets.
Each one filled with the potent MX1 vampire anesthetic. A drug
developed in house for their soldiers to catch vampires with and
then bring them back to be operated on, in their desperate hunt for
immortality.

Inside these steel flying machines, their
engines were having compression checks carried out, oil changes,
serviced and made ready for the next mission in Romania the
following evening.

Across in the forest, teams of 6 feet tall
soldiers practiced body throws and hand to hand combat, whilst
others carried huge rocks that normal middle-aged men could hardly
lift. The surrounding two hundred feet tall pine trees swayed
gently, saying nothing as they looked down at them with ridiculing
thoughts; hardly impressed as the soldiers tried to prove their
superhuman strengths.

All the while inside the
entrance of the top secret base some ways away, and back across the
icy tarmac behind the main door; a massive sliding lump of rock
that was also lined with lead to keep the voices out, their boss
Adolf was considering calling it off and giving everyone much
needed holidays. He was actually really thinking that if they were
more relaxed then after the holidays, they might actually find
immortality quicker. Only when he was told that a godly sized
vampire from Paris was going to be up at the shack, suddenly red
mist of anger had sunk down over the
Führer’s brain. In response
he’d
cancelled his previous thoughts of R&R and pushed on with his
original plan to raid the shack in the Carpathian Mountains of
Romania.

*****

Ever since he’d started hearing voices back
in 1935 that were commanding and controlling him Adolf had tried to
escape them, only the voice that had been booming in his mind from
dusk till dawn 7 days a week, was strangely always one step ahead.
Every attempt he’d ever made to stop the voices had always been
futile, leaving the leader of the German army being manipulated
into starting WW2.

Not to say that he hadn’t got his own plans
for world domination, because he had. Even without the voices he’d
have ordered the war, only he’d have done it in a different way
entirely.

The voices that were in his mind were so
strong that he’d been powerless to resist them. They had him by the
balls so to speak. Then four years later and with insanity
threatening to consume him as they’d burrowed deep into his soul,
suddenly they’d ordered him to have a meeting with Joseph
Stalin.

They’d said don’t worry and go and sign the
Devil’s ALLIANCE with Stalin, and then they’d told him that like
him, they’d also got Stalin under mind control too.

Instantly Adolf had tried to refuse but the
voices had roared through his mind and then furiously taken control
of his whole body, and with it marched him in front of a mirror.
He’d remembered that as he’d been slammed against the sink, and
then from within, savagely bent backwards so that he’d looked
directly into the damn thing, at that moment he’d had his first
glimpse of the man who’s voices were inside his head.

The man’s name was Raffious.

As he’d stood there looking back at him,
Raffious was an old man of about 5 feet tall with a long beard that
was so long he couldn’t see the end of it, as it’d vanished beneath
the mirrors frame. He’d been dressed in white robes something like
what a holy man would have worn, and had a withered face with heaps
of wrinkles underneath his eyes, giving the distinct impression
that he’d deep troubles in his mind. Anyway as he’d been forced to
stare into this old creepy fuckers face, the old boy shape shifted
and then changed into another being entirely. The man was now much
taller; probably over six feet tall, and he’d dark wavy hair that
was framing his soft features. His eyes were blue and angelic in
appearance, hardly matching that of his true evil nature in the
slightest.

Then as Adolph had been consumed with even
deeper shock than the shock that was already flowing through him
from seeing someone in the mirror, suddenly there’d been a loud
knocking coming from behind him. It was coming from his mission
control room door of the chateaux that he’d taken over after
killing the previous owners. The knocking had been his personal
guards who were asking if he was all right. They’d apologized with
muffled voices from behind the timber, but explained that they’d
heard voices and were freaking out thinking that somehow an
intruder had got in. At that point the old boy Raffious had
realized that he’d no choice but to jump out of Adolf’s mind and
let him go. In response Raffious cursed inwardly at the intrusion
and then gritted his teeth, as he’d stared into Adolph’s eyes and
then said to him, “Stop thinking about escape, and fucking sign the
Devil’s Alliance with Joseph Stalin or else.”

A moment had passed of Adolph’s face being
jammed up to the mirror so close that his own eyeballs were inches
away from the shiny surface. Then as he’d begun to count the veins
in the old boys whites of his eyes, he’d been saved because the
handle of the door behind him had started to turn. Fearing that as
the door had opened, whoever was on the other side would think that
Adolf was possessed, and this might have a profound effect on his
being the German leader so ruining the old boys plans, Raffious had
no choice but to release him from his hold over him, and then
vanished from the mirror too.

As he’d released him, the shock of having his
brain back and then also feeling his bodies senses sending the
electrical impulses up into it again, had made Adolph stumble
forwards and left him in a mini panic attack with trouble
breathing. The situation had been highly embarrassing for him as
their leader. Then to stop his guards from repeating to others that
they’d seen him in such a way, he’d told them to stand by the wall
whilst he decided upon a punishment for their intrusion. A second
had past and then after he’d walked up and down his room a couple
of times, with his heels clicking on the timber floor, he’d spun
around and snatched up one of their Lugar handguns, shooting them
both several times in the head.

Then as the years went by and with the war a
couple of years from ending, Adolph under the control of Raffious
found himself going for a meeting inside a lab in a mountain in
Italy. Once inside he’d stumbled again and then after looking like
a fool he’d suddenly realized that the voices had stopped in his
mind again too. Adolf in response then wiped his mouth from saliva
that was dripping down his chin and grinned. He was suddenly
consumed with extreme joy and happiness to be free again. Adolf
then for obvious reasons refused to leave the sanctity of the place
and demanded that his SS Elite troops located a site, where a
bunker inside a mountain could be built of his very own. Then after
a few more killings to prove that he’d been deadly serious, they’d
gone and found the site in Hungary. Adolf and after a few years of
using prisoners of war to build it and to keep its location a
secret when it was finished, he’d thanked them for their hard work
by gassing them. Then as soon as it was finished and ready to move
in, and like Cleopatra travelling in her box carried by slaves,
he’d been taken to it in a lead box on the back of a tank to avoid
the voices taking hold of him again.

Once there he’d slipped inside it and started
setting up base.

Not long after though he’d
been receiving strange reports from officers in Auswitzch prisoner
of war camp, that were saying after the death lever had been pulled
and the doors were opened, prisoners with black eyes and fangs had
come charging out. He was also told that as they’d tried running
away, his officers had ordered the machine gunners to blast them;
only their bullets had seemed to have little to no effect. Seeing
is believing so he had a trap set with a wire roof, and a second
door that was installed outside the death chambers main door. Then
some months later when he’d started believing that the stories were
simply rubbish, and that his own guards were doing nothing more
than trying to fool him, suddenly two prisoners matching their
previous descriptions were caught. Then after his own scientists
had carried out numerous tests on these strange looking people but
found nothing, one day in his office a book on Theology had fallen
down and from its pages he’d discovered that they were vampires. In
clear words it had said ‘
Vampires and
Immortality,’
and then as he’d looked up
and checked the chapter heading of the book, it had said Ponerology
section, The Study of Sin and Evil.