Lust For Blood

Lust for Blood


By:
HAWKEYE44

Finished on Saturday July 4, 2009
Chapter 1:
The First Encounter, June 1865

“Fix bayonets!” yelled out Col. Pierce. He and his men were in Northern Mississippi fighting the Confederacy. He sat upon his horse shouting orders to his men. Upon his steed it was as though he was king of this utter Hell. Smoke and souls flew up past him toward the heavens while he peered forward planning his next move. An idea came to mind and words suddenly rushed from his mouth, giving the most intricate battle plans to his men. But, all battle plans have a loophole.

“Sir, they’re attacking the rear flank!” Capt. Thomas shouted to Pierce. Just then the offspring of a confederate rifle flew through the sky and ripped through the skull of Capt. Thomas. Pierce turned around and drew his sword. He called for his men to follow as they charged into the bloody glade. When he was nearly halfway to meeting his murderous enemies they started screaming in fright. He then noticed many of them falling to the ground, like dominoes on a slanted hill. He then looked to the side and saw two men pulling a gatling gun. He then thought to himself, “There’s no way that those bullets could hit from that angle, but how else could I explain it.”

Then the Southern soldiers began surrendering to the Union. Although still puzzled, Pierce disregarded the unexpected surrender and celebrated his victory. His men threw their caps in the air with excitement. And for a moment, it seemed all was at peace, victory was won. Pierce joined them and then took care of his duty. “Men, round up those foul smelling imbeciles and throw them in chains.”

Later that night Sgt. Alex Smith came over to Pierce and said, “Sir, those Southern boys haven’t said a word for hours. They just sit there with a blank look on their eyes.”

“Bring one in here, I’ll get him to talk,” Pierce said as he began pulling out his sword. A small bloodcurdling smile ran rancid across his face.

“Yes, sir!” Smith said and he walked out the tent door. Pierce waited for his victim inside, he pulled up his sleeves and cracked his knuckles. Although he was in his mid forties he could beat the crap out of the others. Pierce stood in the mirror looking at his weathering body.

“I’m getting old,” he whispered to himself. Just then Smith came in with one of the prisoners. He was a young man, maybe early twenties. Smith threw him on a chair and awaited orders. “Dismissed,” Pierce said.

“But sir…” Smith rebutted.

“I said Dismissed,” Pierce repeated and Smith stepped out of the door. “So, why you boys so quiet?” Pierce asked. The young man just sat there, staring. “Hello! Answer me, boy!” Pierce yelled, now getting impatient. The man slightly turned toward Pierce, his face was pale white. He then stood up and walked toward Col. Pierce. “Sit down! Now!” Col. Pierce said as he reached for his pistol. The man kept stumbling toward Pierce, that ghostly look still glued to his face. Pierce pulled out his revolver and aimed it at the Southern man and said, “Don’t make me do this.”

With pistol aimed at his chest the Southern man looked at Pierce and said, “Blood, he wants blood.” Pierce looked at the man, dumbfounded and confused by what the man said. Before the Colonel could ask any questions the Southerner stole the gun from Pierce and aimed it at himself. The man turned to the side and looked up. “I can not join my Lord, for the Devil has infected me,” the man said and fired the gun. The bullet ripped through his skull and flew into Pierce’s shoulder. Pierce didn’t even notice the burning pain in his shoulder, for he was still puzzled by the man’s last words.

Suddenly, his men burst into the room. “Sir, what’s going on?” a young soldier asked when he came into the room. Pierce was still speechless by the man’s sudden suicide. “Sir, you’re bleeding,” the young soldier said again. Pierce walked out of his tent while the young soldier cleaned up the room.

Pierce then thought to himself, “Why, who? Who was he referring to as “the devil.” Darn, I can’t figure this out. Why would he kill himself like that? And from what I understand all of the other prisoners are acting the same. I just don’t get it.” After contemplating the thoughts of his experiences he went to bed.

“Sir, it’s the prisoners, there gone,” another soldier said.

“What? How’s this possible?” Pierce said and he ran out of his tent. “Soldier, order the men to grab their weapons and meet me here!” Pierce said.

“Yes sir!” the soldier said and he ran through the camp. Pierce went back into his tent and grabbed his sword and revolver. About ten minutes later his men were rallied outside of his tent. “Sir, we’re all here,” the same soldier said.

“Okay, lets spread into groups of five and fan out. Find those rebels and bring ‘em back! We meet back here in thirty minutes!” Pierce said as his men split into ten different groups. Pierce took his group to the northern edge of the camp. He and his men searched, but found nothing.

“Sir I don’t see a thing,” a middle aged private said.

“Okay, lets head back to camp its been about a half an hour anyway.” Pierce said and they began heading back. One their way the dark fog began to roll in. Pierce was sweating, not because of the heat, but because he had a gut feeling that something bad was bound to happen. Once he returned to camp that feeling was confirmed. His group was the only one that made it back.

“Sir where is everyone? Hello, anyone there? Hello!” a frightened soldier screamed out.

“Calm down, man!” Pierce ordered.

“What do you mean calm down!? Where is everybody!?” the soldier said.

“Private, calm down and form back up!” Pierce shouted. But, he was too late, man already ran into the darkness.

“Everyone stay here!” he said and he slowly followed after the man. Before he was even ten feet away from his men they heard a scream. Pierce regrouped with his men and called out, “Fix bayonets!” The soldiers did and prepared to fight. It was quiet, too quiet. One man was over anxious and he fired into the darkness, the others thought it was an order from their Colonel and began firing. “Hold your fire!” Pierce called out, now angry with his men.

After a few minutes of awkward silence a man came out of the woods. He was pale white in a black over coat. The soldiers began lowering their rifles thinking that it was just an elderly civilian. Then the “civilian” let out a roar and his fangs glared from the moonlight. The soldiers raised their rifles and fired at the monstrosity. “Kill it!” soldiers called out.
“Men do whatever you have to, but kill it,” Pierce called out. He then drew his revolver and fired toward the monster. It then smiled and started moving faster than any bullet. The last five soldiers, including Pierce, huddled in a circle back to back. They began firing, but to no avail, their flintlock rifles were just too slow. The monster then started throwing the soldiers on the ground and killing them. It knocked Pierce down lying next to him was the corpse of Captain Thomas. Half of his neck was completely missing. Pierce quickly got up and realized that he was the only survivor left from the battle. He grabbed the revolver from Thomas’s holster and began firing the two revolvers that he had.

Now Pierce was out of ammo and said, “I think I got him.”

“I wouldn’t be so confident,” a dark voice said.

“But, but how?” Pierce said astonished.

“I’m simply too quick for you. Oh, and if you’re wandering where your prisoners are their bodies are over by the river,” the voice said.

“How could have you killed thirty men, even if they were unarmed?” Pierce said. He was now shaking with fear.

“Well, I killed fifty of your men, didn’t I?” He said.

“You’ll pay for that you bastard!” Pierce said and he drew his sword. He turned around and slashed, but the figure already moved. Pierce stood up, but was pushed right back onto the ground. “C’mon!” he shouted.

“Okay, now you’re making me angry. I think you should stray away from that, any way your ruining my vacation from Transylvania.” The figure said.

“What the Hell are you talking about? Stop kidding around!” Pierce questioned.

“Oh, Hell, that place brings back memories,” He said.

“Answer me you monster!” Pierce shouted.

“I am no monster, the least you can do is call me by my name, Dracula,” Dracula said.

“Uh, no way! You’re lying!” Pierce said and once again he swung out his sword. Dracula caught the blade and pulled it away from Pierce with ease. He then bent it in half and threw it on the ground.

“Foolish weapons, aren’t they? You’d think that after eighteen hundred years that they would have thought of something, more creative.” Dracula said and turned around.

Pierce saw a musket lying a few inches away from him. He reached over and grabbed the gun. “You know what Dracula? They did!” he shouted and he fired the gun and the bullet ripped through Dracula’s chest.

“Aaah!” roared Dracula. He then turned around and grabbed Pierce by the neck. Dracula’s thick finger’s pushed to reunite with their neighbor thumb. The hand’s strength was immense and nearly took away the very breath that kept Pierce alive. “You fool! I’m immortal!” He screamed and threw Pierce into a tree. Pierce was barely awake and was nearing unconsciousness. He could barely hear Dracula say, “I can only do this every fifty years and someone always has to ruin it.” Once he heard that he fell limp onto the ground…

Chapter 2:
Rescued

“I found him,” yelled Pvt. Nichols. “Over here!” he shouted. He had just found Maj. Pierce lying on the ground.

“Good. Okay, lets take him into town.” Said Maj. Honeycut. They put him on the back of a wagon and began hauling him into town. “Must suck for him, huh?” Maj. Honeycut said.

“What are you talking about,” a nearby guard asked.

“Well, first off, all thirty of his prisoners escaped and still can’t be found. And two, he’s the only survivor of his group. Nobody even knows what happened to them.” Honeycut explained.

“Oh, I see.” The guard said. He then hopped onto the wagon.

“What are you doing?” Honeycut asked.

“I’m gonna find out what happened,” said the guard and he turned toward Pierce’s unconscious body. “Wake up body, c’mon.” he said.

“What, where am I?” Pierce said while getting up.

“You’re here with us, don’t worry we’re friends,” the guard said.

“Uh, where is he!” Pierce cried out.

“What, who are you talking about? Is there another survivor?” The guard asked, now anxious to hear news of a survivor.

“What? No! I mean the one who did this to us. You know, Dracula! Where is he?” Pierce shouted. The guard jumped off of the wagon and walked over to his commanding officer.

“Uh, sir?” The Guard said

“Yes, private?” Honeycut answered.

“I think that Pierce has gone, well, insane. You know from the deaths and all.” The Guard responded.

“That’s ridiculous, Pierce has been around war for a long time. That wouldn’t crack him,” Honeycut said.

“I don’t know sir, he keeps going on about Dracula?” The Guard said puzzlingly.

“Hmm, maybe he should be checked out by the town’s psychiatrist,” said Honeycut. The two agreed and hurried their way into McKeensburg. Their trip will take about another two or three hours until there.

They were almost there so Honeycut went in the back to tell Pierce. “Pierce, we’re almost there, okay?” Honeycut said. When he got there Pierce was sitting on the ground mumbling something to himself.

“Excuse me? What did you say?” Honeycut questioned.

“Fifty years, fifty years, fifty years…”Pierce constantly repeated.

Honeycut was getting confused. He thought to himself, “I heard of Col. Pierce as one of the bravest soldiers of the US, I wander what had happened.” “Guard! Where are you Private!?” Honeycut called.

“Yes, sir!” The Guard said as he jumped onto the hay-filled wagon.

“Watch Pierce here, okay?” Honeycut ordered. After another forty minutes the group of New York soldiers made it into town. There they had Pierce evaluated and he was sent to an insane asylum. His pleas and warnings were pushed aside and ignored.

“Okay, lunch time,” said Doctor Smith. He was telling his patient Jonathan Pierce. Pierce was sitting in the corner of his room, just staring. He turned around grabbed the food, and rushed to back to his corner. Smith then thought to himself, “How pathetic, what could have made a man like this?”

After his lunch Pierce had to go to a psychiatric meeting. One of the nurses came and walked him to the meeting. Everyone sat in a circle and began stating their problems. “Hehe, I, I became like this from that war. I had a knife! I hated those rebels, hehe. We had prisoners, so I just walked my suave self into that little cell. And there, there I, I had fun! Hehe, blood was…” was all a patient could say before Pierce tackled and punched him in the face. He then pushed the man’s head to the ground and stood up.

“Blood, blood will be spilt in fifty years!” Pierce screamed as he ran around the room. He grabbed their legs and begged them to listen. He kept repeating himself, “Blood, blood!” Pierce then stood up and grabbed a doctor by the coat; he then looked deep into his eyes. A nearby nurse saw what was going on and got a needle filled with sedative. She quickly ran towards Pierce and ejected the needle. Pierce managed to turn his head, but then collapsed.

“Nurse, would you mind?” the doctor asked.

“No sir,” she said and struggled to drag Pierce’s body back to a room for him to stay. The events were recorded on his records and kept there.

Chapter 3:
Christmas 1914

It was Christmas day, 1914 and many doctors were taking care of patients in the McKeensburg Psychiatric Care Facility. There was a party going on in the lounge and they were cleaning out their records. “Wow, look at this one, it’s from 1902. Lets see Jacob Lee Warren. Went insane from being beaten by his parents when he was younger. Well, I know exactly where to put you,” Doctor Taylor said as he threw the file into the trash. He was half drunk and was cleaning his office. “Ronald Detweiler, went insane from being chased by a hobo in 1910. Haha!” He said to himself. And yet again he threw into the trash.

He then came across the file of one Col. Jonathan Pierce. “Well, well, an army boy. Lets see where this goes,” Taylor said. He read it and was confused. He then said out loud, “What’s this a bout fifty years? That’s in a few days. Oh well, I won’t even be in this country for it.” He then took a sip out of his whiskey bottle and sat at his desk chair.

“Thomas! What are you doing here? Your shift ended hours ago! Come home it’s Christmas, we miss you.” Mrs. Taylor told her now drunk husband.

“Kiss me!” he said and stumbled toward her.

She pushed him away and said, “You’re drunk! I’ll see you at home. We won’t see you for a while, you ship out tomorrow.” She said and walked out the door.

“That darn draft, you know, why don’t we just bomb all the other counries? BOOM! Sploosh! BOOM-BOOM!” Thomas yelled to his wife and he headed for the door.

“Tom, you are drunk, shut up and let’s go,” Betty said. Thomas shrugged, turned, grabbed the file and walked out the door to his car. He jammed the keys in the car and sat in the driver’s seat. “Don’t you think that I should drive?”

“I will drive,” Thomas said, now aggravated and turned the key. The car began growling as it came to life. After swerving back forth on the road he made it home and went home and collapsed into bed.

“Thomas, Thomas wakeup!” his wife yelled. “You have to be out of here in an hour! You ship out today, to France!” she said again and woke up her husband.

“Okay I’m up, uuhh, my head,” said Thomas as he began getting out of bed. He put on his uniform and headed out the door. His eyes were still half closed and he reached out his arms for guidance to leave. Nestled on the couch was his pack, packed neatly the night before by his wife. In the center of the bag, was a picture of his wife sewn tightly on. Thomas smiled and grabbed the bag. He then walked out the door and on to the porch. He took a deep breath and headed down the steps.

“Thomas, wait!” his wife Betty said. He turned around and gave her a kiss goodbye. Although the taste of whiskey still laid upon his breath, Betty enjoyed her possible final kiss with her husband.

“Betty, I am so sorry for last night. I-I don’t know w...”

“I know, it’s okay, I love you. Now you got to go,” Betty said. Thomas smiled, turned around, and then hopped into the car and drove to where he and the other soldiers were meeting.

Once he was there he stood in line and awaited to get on board. Before he got on he was issued a Springfield rifle, ammo, and a uniform. From there on his goal was kill or be killed. Thomas was now going to France to fight the Germans. Mr. Thomas Taylor was no more, now it was Cpl. Taylor.




Chapter 4:
Cpl. Taylor

“Get down you idiot!” Sgt. Hicks yelled to Cpl. Taylor. He grabbed Taylor by the shirt and pulled him down behind the trench. They were under fire from a German machine gun. “Gorman, get over here!” said Hicks. Gorman turned toward his commander and nodded he then fired one more round at his enemies and ran toward Hicks. As Pvt. Gorman headed over he was shot in the chest. He then fell to the ground in agony.

“Help!” screamed Gorman in agony. The blood was rushing out of his chest.

“Medic! Medic, get the Hell over here!” Hicks called out. The medic was nowhere to be seen. “Taylor, run down the trenches and find that medic! And for God’s sake don’t get shot!”

“Yes sir!” Cpl. Taylor said and ran along the men. The soldiers were standing aiming their rifles out of the trench. A man was lying on the ground in front of Taylor with a wounded leg. A medic was busy at work on the soldier. Cpl. Taylor looked ahead and could make out a red cross painted on a helmet. “Medic! Medic, get over here, follow me,” Taylor yelled toward the medic as he sped back to his squad, the medic was close behind.

“I’m coming!” the medic called as he ran toward the wounded body of Pvt. Gorman. “It’s okay, just calm down. We just gotta apply some pressure to stop the bleeding,” the medic told Gorman.

“T, tell my momma that I, I love her. Oh my God! I’m gonna die, help!” Gorman screamed out. The blood was coming out too fast.

“Sarge, I’m gonna need you to restrain him, he won’t calm down,” the medic told Hicks.

“Okay, but Taylor, give us some covering fire!” Hicks ordered Taylor as he rushed over to Gorman. Taylor started firing his Springfield at the enemy. Bullets flew over his head, and Gorman was screaming beside him. This is the side of war that he feared the most, where death is the chance for a victory. Taylor had never seen a wounded man before, so most of his rounds were off and his hands were shaking.

“Okay, I think we stopped the blee…” Is all the medic could say before a bullet planted itself deep into his skull. The medic’s body fell forward on to Gorman who let out a terrifying scream.

Hicks threw the medic’s body off of Gorman and looked toward Cpl. Taylor. “Dang it! Okay, Taylor, don’t stop shooting. I’m gonna take Gorman back to camp! I’ll come back for you after I get him back there. You got all that, soldier?” Hicks yelled to Taylor and he began running into the woods behind them.

“Yes sir!” Taylor said to his sergeant. Taylor was firing the Springfield wherever he saw an opening. He was now sweating, the gun was now getting hot from shooting so much, and to add to that it was the middle of June. A few times he wanted to drop the rifle and run, but he knew that he couldn’t do that. He then thought to himself, “Hmmm, maybe this is why that Pierce guy went insane? Well, I don’t know, but I’m much more stable than he was.”

Hicks carried Gorman on his shoulder through the woods. Trees and bushes shot their branches at the two, trying to make them stop. Hicks didn’t care, he carried fellow soldier all the way back to base. Once there, there was nothing but a savage beast smiling toward them with wide bloodstained fangs…

Back at the trenches Cpl. Thomas Taylor was fighting as bravly as possible, just then a bullet landed into Taylor’s shoulder. He fell to the ground from the pain. He was now sitting inside a trench and scared half to death. He then looked at his stockpile of ammo and saw that it was getting dangerously low. He decided it best to shove the ammo in his pocket and load the gun once, he then attached his bayonet onto the end of the rifle. Taylor then took out a picture of his wife and a small cross necklace. He then kissed them both and tied them to the butt of his springfield.

With a sign of desperation he climbed out of the trench and charged toward the enemy after running for a couple feet he then noticed that no one was shooting at him. “Did I win?” he thought to himself. He then let a sigh out of relief. As soon as he dropped his guard he heard something rustling behind him, he turned and faced the woods where Hicks and Gorman had ran. Taylor raised the butt of his rifle to his shoulder and took aim at the spot where the noise came from.

“Sarge, that you?” Taylor said. “C’mon, don’t play around Sarge,” he said nervously. He then saw the nearly destroyed body of Pvt. Gorman dragging himself out of the woods. “Gorman! You okay?” He said with a smile, now happy to see one of his comrades. He then brought the rifle to his side and chuckled a little. Gorman looked up his face pale and cold, his eyes are dark and bloodthirsty. Gorman then opened his mouth; his teeth began to grow jagged, like fangs.

“Gorman, you’re freakin’ me out here. Just calm down,” Taylor said as he raised his rifle. Gorman then hoisted himself and tackled Pvt. Thomas Taylor. Taylor raised his rifle to block Gorman from biting him. Gorman’s jagged teeth were closing in on the throat of Pvt. Taylor. Taylor moved his rifle and swung the butt into the jaw of Gorman. He then fired the loaded bullet he had into Gorman’s stomach.

Taylor noticed that Gorman’s wound was still there, but there was another injury on the side of his neck. Taylor then reached for his trench knife and rushed toward Gorman. He tackled him and repeatedly stabbed him in the chest and throat. Taylor then got up and picked up his springfield, loaded it and walked away. As he was walking he could hear Gorman rushing after him. When Gorman lunged toward him he ducked and Gorman flew right over top of him. He then ran over to Gorman and stepped on his throat with his combat boot and shoved the rifle into Gorman’s mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Taylor said and he pulled the trigger. Blood splattered onto Taylor’s face and he turned away. He began heading back to camp, but then heard clapping. “Who’s there?” Taylor said.

“Bravo, bravo, you managed to kill my creation,” the voice said as it approached Cpl. Taylor.

“Wait, who are you?” Taylor asked.

“You don’t know, well why don’t you read the file you keep in your coat.” The man said. Taylor then took out the file and read over it.

“You’re, you’re him! Him, of course, it’s been fifty years. You’re Dracula! You drove that man, uh Col. Pierce go insane,” Taylor yelled.

“Well, aren’t you a smart cookie. Pierce was fun to play with, you know I’m getting too old to kill fifty people in one sitting, but it is still fun. Now lets see how smart you actually are. Do you know who made Gorman like that?” Dracula asked. Taylor just looked at Gorman’s lifeless body and became red with anger. “Well, do you?” Dracula repeated.

“You! You son of a…” Taylor said before Dracula interrupted him.

“Ding, ding. The genius gets it right, now who killed Hicks?” Dracula said with a smile ear to ear.

“Shut the Hell up you bastard! It was you, now stop torturing me!” Taylor screamed.

“It seems that my genius likes to whine. No matter, okay, here’s a trick. How many fingers am I holding up behind my back?” Dracula joked.
“NONE!” Taylor yelled and he reloaded his rifle. He then fired and the bullet dug into Dracula’s chest.

“I tried to be nice, but now you DIE! Dracula yelled and he took his claws and gouged into Taylor’s chest. He then lifted his body up and looked in his eyes. “You’re weak. You deserve to die!” Dracula said and he threw Taylor over into a tree. Pvt. Taylor slowly moved himself toward the body of Pvt. Gorman. His trench knife still was stuck in Gorman’s chest from the previous fight.

Thomas dragged himself over to the body and pulled the knife out of Gorman’s chest. Dracula had his back turned so Thomas took advantage of the situation. He picked himself up and charged toward Dracula. “No, no, no, sit down!” Dracula said as he punched Pvt. Taylor in the face. The punch knocked Taylor onto the ground. His body slowly entered a state of unconsciousness.

“Why do you mortals insist on using such weak weapons,” Dracula asked Taylor’s motionless body. He then picked up the trench knife and threw it into Pvt. Taylor’s stomach. “I bid you a horrible death and a fine day,” Dracula said as he walked away and disappeared…

Chapter 5:
Soldat Americain

“Mamma, I’m going to play in the fields. Okay?” said Jacques, a young French boy who enjoyed meeting with the American soldiers and trading for foreign items.

“Alright, but be back for supper,” his mother said. “It will be our last dinner in France,” she said.

“Yes, Mamma, I know,” Jacques said and he ran off. Jacques loved trading with the soldiers and seeing exotic American things. He carried an old bottle of wine and some cigars to trade with the soldiers. He and his mother were going to America to escape the war in France soon, they have seen enough bloodshed. Jacques knew exactly where the American camp was, he’s been trading with them for about a month.

“Bonjaur!” Jacques said as he entered the camp. He looked around and he couldn’t find anyone, it was completely empty. “Bonjaur? Anyone there?” Jacques called out.

“Someone there? Uhhh.” A stranger said. The voice was light yet dark, it was powerful yet week, the voice of a fallen man.

Jacques walked over to the man and could see that he was an American soldier. On his chest it said his name, Pvt. Thomas Taylor. “Wee, I’m here. Are you okay mister?” Jacques asked.

“Go get help, please get help,” Thomas said as he riled in pain.

The boy was still in shock but managed to respond, “Okay, just stay here,” Jacques said and he ran to get his mother. Jacques ran across the field as fast as he could to get back home. Leaves crackled and twigs broke beneath his feet as he rushed home. Once the small white house came into view Jacques spread up and ran through the door. “Mamma, come and help. There’s a man who needs help,” Jacques said as he tugged on his mother’s dress instructing her to follow.

His mother thought that he was playing a game with her and smiled sayng, “Alright, I’ll come. Should I grab the bandages?”

“Yes mamma! He needs help, he’s a soldier,” Jacques said and he grabbed his mother’s hand and told her to follow.

“His games are so cute, the imagination of a young boy,” Jacques mother thought to herself, but when they came to the clearing she was shocked to see the injured body of a soldier. “Oh, no! Are you all right?” she said. “There’s a knife in your stomach!” the mother said.
“Please, take this, boy!” he said as he handed Jacques the file of Col. Jonathan Pierce. “Just read it and believe it, I took his story for granted. There’s no chance for me,” Thomas told Jacques. Jacques reached out and grabbed the bloody files from his hand.

“Jacques, help me carry him back home,” his mother said. The young boy just looked forward, staring ominously into space. “Jacques!” his mother yelled.

“Oh, yes mamma,” He then helped his mother carry Pvt. Thomas Taylor back to their home. Once there they lied him on the bed and tried to stop the bleeding.

“Thanks, kid. I think you deserve a reward. Here boy, you can have this,” Thomas said and he pulled the trench knife out of his stomach and handed it to Jacques. When Thomas pulled the knife out more blood came from the wound and he lost too much blood. Pvt. Thomas Taylor died that night in the small French cottage.

“Mamma?” Jacques asked while his bottom lip twitched and his knees began shaking.

“Yes dear?” His mother said, wiping tears away from her eyes.

“Can we leave today? I don’t want to see this anymore, I’m scared,” he said with a tear.

“Yes, yes. Grab your things, lets go,” his mother said.

“What about him?” Jacques asked.

“Well, I believe he deserves a proper burial,” Jacques’s mother said as tear flooded down his face. The two buried Thomas’s body in the field where they found him. They let him with a payer and a makeshift headstone and headed for America.

About a month later Mrs. Betty Taylor learned news of her husband’s death as she saw the black government car stop by her house. At first she couldn’t believe it and cried on her knees. The husband she had kissed goodbye only seven months ago was now gone for good, and she felt weak. The only thing she wanted to do was cry.

Chapter 6:
April 1965

A ring from the phone ran through the house of an old Frenchmen. Jacques slowly got up out of his chair and answered the phone. “Hello?” Jacques said.

“Dad, guess what!” Pierre said excitedly to his father over the phone.

“What is it Pierre?” His father, Jacques, asked.

“Well, you know how you always told me about that soldier in France?” Pierre asked his father.

“Yes, why do you ask?” Jacques asked.

“I volunteered for the US Army! Next week I’m going to Vietnam! Gonna win us the war!” Pierre informed his now sixty-year-old father.

“When did you choose to do this?” Jacques asked, now getting angry with his son for not telling him.

“About four months ago, but I couldn’t figure out how to tell you. I never went to that business trip, that was boot camp. Aren’t you proud of me?” Pierre asked.


“Son, you’re 32 years old, you shouldn’t go off fighting in some war. But, I guess it’s too late to tell you that,” Jacques said seriously.

“Well, I want to do this. And if you won’t support me then so be it!” Pierre yelled into the phone and hung it up. He then went to his closet and grabbed a box off of the top of the shelf. Inside was the knife that his father had gotten from the American soldier and passed on to him. “I’m finally gonna put this knife to use when I get there,” Pierre thought to himself and he put the knife back into the box.

After a week of getting ready, Pierre drove to the air port in his uniform. For a while everyone will call him Sgt. LeVan, Sgt. Pierre LeVan. Aboard the plain he met his future comrades. There were Privates Williams and Carnegie and Cpl. Turner. And then there was their leader, Major Potter.

None of the men talked much on their way, because they knew what to expect. On their way onto the plane they were spat on and made fun of for going off to war. Pierre was confused by this, he was leaving to help people and they disrespected him for it, why he wandered.

After a long flight they landed in Vietnam, there Pierre was given a 30. cal. machine gun, a helmet, a pistol, and a few grenades and ordered to shoot to kill, while he tried to shoot for thrill. After six months of fighting, he wasn’t as charismatic. Now he was a soldier, a serious soldier. He still carried the knife that his father gave him and did put it to use on several occasions. It was now June 1965.

Chapter 7:
June 1965

Sgt. LeVan and the other men were sitting around a roaring fire in Southern Vietnam, it was dark and cold outside. “I’m freezing,” Cpl. Williams said as he shivered. The others just looked at him for a little and then turned straight back to staring at the fire. Maj. Potter just sat there polishing his gun. The barrel shimmered in the fire light.

“Man, I hate the weather here! Hot in the day and cold at night. What the Hell is up with that,” Williams said with a shiver.

“Shut up Williams, we’re trying to rest. And we don’t need your jaw flapping,” Pvt. Carnegie said.

“Whatever, I’m gonna take a leak,” Williams said and he grabbed his pistol and walked into the woods. He then found a tree and went to the bathroom. “Aaahhh,” he said as he relieved himself. He then heard a crunch of leaves behind him and got prepared with his M-14. He then walked toward the sound. He then pushed leaves out of his way and raised his weapon. “What the f…” Williams cried out as something grabbed and pulled him in.

“Aahh!” Williams cried out before someone put a hand over his mouth.

“Ssshhh,” Maj. Potter said calmly.

“Oh, thank God,” Williams said with relief.

“Something’s watchin’ us,” the experienced Maj. Potter told his soldier. He pulled out his M-14 and looked ahead. “Get your rifle out, boy,” Potter whispered to Pvt. Williams. Williams did so and they looked through the brush.

“Sir, what’s that, over there?” Williams asked.

“Where?” Potter asked. Then, Potter was lifted into the air. Williams raised his M-14 and looked up.

“Major! Where are you?” Williams yelled. Williams then heard something and ran out of the jungle.

“Guys, something took the Major,” Williams told the others.

“Williams, what are you talking about?” Carnegie asked. Carnegie then unslung his Springfield rifle from his back. He then lifted the scope up to his eye and looked around their campfire. “Wait, what’s that?” Carnegie said and then something jumped out of the trees toward him. He fired off a round and the object fell in front of him.

“What the Hell was that!?” Pierre asked Carnegie.

“Dunno,” Carnegie said and he walked toward it. He then poked the object with the barrel of his rifle and turned around. “Whatever it is, it’s dead,” Carnegie said. Just then the object revealed itself as still alive and got up.

“Wow, that actually hurt. It seems that homo-sapiens technology has greatly increased,” the figure said. The three remaining soldiers just stood and stared at him. “Well, maybe I should introduce myself before I kill you. I am Vlad Dracul, but my friends call me Dracula. But, then again I don’t have many friends.” He said.

“Wait, what?” Williams said in disbelief.

“Are you stupid or something? I am Dracula!” Dracula yelled.

“I know just who you are!” Pierre cried and he aimed his 30. Cal. at Dracula. The other soldiers followed their leader. Pierre than began unloading on the man of the living dead.

“Toof, toof, toof, toof,” the machine gun cried out in the night air. Williams and Carnegie joined in and started firing. Williams was already on his second clip and Pierre still had plenty of rounds. Carnegie was taking precise shots in the areas he knew best; liver, heart, head, throat, and both kidneys. Through all of the smoke none of the men noticed that Dracula was still standing.

“Dang, I’m out,” Williams said. “Dude, Pierre, you’re out of ammo, stop dry firing,” he said again. But, Pierre just kept pulling the trigger and staring at the smoke.

“Well, is that it?” Dracula asked disappointedly.

“What the Hell are you?” Williams yelled, now desperate to kill the undead. Williams then charged at Dracula with a bayonet. Dracula grabbed the bayonet and threw it along with Pvt. Williams onto the ground.

“Wow, you are a pesky one, aren’t you?” Dracula taunted Williams. While Dracula was dealing with Williams, Pierre and Carnegie prepared an attack. Pierre pulled out the old WWI knife from the sheath on the side of his boot. Carnegie slowly and quietly reloaded his rifle.

“Aaahhh!” Pierre yelled as he went for the kill, but Dracula was too fast and he grabbed Pierre and threw him in front of himself. When Carnegie fired, the bullet hit Pierre, instead of Dracula. Pierre fell to the ground, dead from friendly fire.

“What the Hell, man? Why did you do that?” Williams asked, now shocked that Carnegie shot Pierre.

“I didn’t mean to, that pale guy threw him in front of me,” Carnegie explained.

“I don’t like being called “the pale guy”,” Dracula said. He then walked toward Pvt. Carnegie, fangs glaring. Williams reached for the two revolvers that he keeps in the holsters on his hips and opened fire.

“Die you ugly son of bi…” Williams said before Dracula threw Carnegie into him. The two scrambled to their feet and Carnegie pulled out his bayonet and clenched it in his fist. The two friends smirked at each other and charged in. Carnegie stabbed the knife into the throat of Dracula, but soon afterward Dracula slit Carnegie’s throat with his claws and clawed at Williams, but missed.

“Well, now your friend is dead, what are you going to do?” Dracula asked with anger. Williams then noticed the radio by the fire where Potter was sitting earlier.

“If I can get over there I can call for back up and get the Hell out of here,” Williams thought to himself. He then reloaded the revolvers and said, “You know those soldiers you hear about, the ones that are disobedient and will kill just for the Hell of it? Well, I’m the worst one!” He then fired off the rounds and ran toward the radio. Once he was nearly at the fire he put the guns in his holsters and pulled out a burning log. He then threw the log at Dracula and it set his body ablaze.

Dracula riled in pain and Williams grabbed the radio and ran into the Vietnamese jungles. “YOU ARE FORGETTING SOMETHING, I AM IMMORTAL!” Dracula yelled as Williams ran.

“Help, help, anyone, someone!” Williams yelled into the radio as he caught his breath.

“Calm down boy, what is it?” said a voice over the radio.

“It, its Dracula, he’s here, he’s real,” Williams said.

“Boy, don’t be playin’ tricks on me, now what is your situation?” the voice said, now getting impatient.

“That is the truth Dracula is h…” Williams said before the man on the other end hung up. What Williams didn’t know was that a group of fifteen Vietnamese guerillas heard him and headed toward his direction.

The group of Vietnamese guerillas came upon the American camp and found a severely burnt body. Two of the soldiers walked toward it and aimed their rifles at it. As soon as their guns went down, claws came up and cut the barrels off of the guns. The body then attacked. Dracula played possum by faking his death and then attacking. With his fangs extended he charged toward the men. He clawed and bit them, bleeding them out and drinking the blood before them.

He then tackled one and slit his throat with his claw. He then put his mouth to the cut and sucked out the blood. “You, you savage,” a watching wounded Vietnamese soldier said.

“You should talk,” Dracula said, he then pushed away the body he feeding on and walked toward the soldier. The soldier quivered, but stood his ground. A smile ran across Dracula’s face and he punched the soldier’s chest. The blow had such power that his fist went inside the man. The man was still alive and looked down and screamed at the horror of his mutilated body. Dracula then ripped out the man’s heart and knocked down the lifeless body. He then began eating the heart like an apple and looked at the sky. “Darn, it is almost sunrise. Now my fun is over,” he said. He then bent forward and allowed his wings to extend. His shoulder blades repositioned themselves to allow the demonic batwings come out. Dracula then jumped up and flew back to Romania.

“I think he’s gone,” Williams said to himself and he walked back toward his camp, he pulled out the revolvers just to be safe. Once he was there a shock of horror succumbed him. He saw the mutilated bodies of fifteen Vietnamese soldiers. Williams then looked around; there was no sign of Dracula. He then put his revolvers away and walked out of the camp, he had to find someone and tell them face-to-face. He knew that they would not believe his words so he grabbed a body that had claw and bite marks all over it.

As Williams carried the body he could feel it getting heavier, and harder to drag. He then turned around to look at the body. He then saw that the body was digging its fingers into the ground; Williams was shocked and stepped back. He saw a machete on the belt of the Vietnamese man and grabbed it. Then the man’s head spun around and glared its fangs. The thing then got up and charged at Williams.

“Dang, this is another one, but it seems weaker,” Williams thought to himself and got prepared with the machete. The monster fixed its neck and came at Williams fiercer than before. Williams quickly swung the machete, cutting of its right ear. The monster raised its head and roared in frustration. It then came again; this time Williams jumped over it and swung at its leg. The blade went halfway in, but got stuck. Williams quickly pulled it out and backed away. He then ran through the woods, trying to find help.

When he looked behind himself he saw that the monster was chasing him, like it hasn’t been hurt at all. It then lunged at him, but he ducked. He then jumped on top of it and stabbed it in the chest, pinning it to the ground. Williams then sat in its face and pulled out a grenade and shoved it into the monster’s throat. He then pulled the pin and ran as fast as he could.

After about ten seconds he heard a BOOM! The explosion was huge and although he was far away he could see limbs flying in the air. He smirked and continued his journey to find other soldiers. He was low on ammunition, only enough for two more clips for both revolvers…

Chapter 9:
Home for June of 2015

“Uh, where am I? Owe, my freaking neck!” Williams yelled. He then looked around the room he was in. There were white plaster walls on each side of him. Their cleanliness shined throughout the room. He then looked down to see white tiled floors. The repetitive colors left a dull, bright picture of the room.

“Doctor, he is finally awake!” Nurse Betsy Newman called excitedly.

“Really, wow. After fifty years he is finally up,” Dr. Samson said. He then walked into Pvt. Williams’ room. “Hi there. You know that you have been in a coma for fifty years? And remarkably your physical characteristics haven’t change at all! You see we found a remarkable DNA inside of you,” the doctor said.

“Wait, what? You’re saying that I am 69 years old?” Williams said, now confused.

“Yeah and like I said there are no physical changes, accept your skin has become slightly pale, but that might be due to the fact that you haven’t gotten any sun in fifty years,” Dr. Samson said and he then chuckled.

“How the heck did that happen?” Williams asked.

“We don’t know, but we would like to get samples of your DNA, with your permission of course,” Dr. Samson

“Wow, I’m pretty lucky,” Williams responded.

“Yeah, you are lucky. A group of marines found you and they took you to a medical out post. You were then sent home,” Dr. Samson said.

“Wow. Aaah, why is my neck killing me!” Williams said.

“Calm down, now, we don’t know,” the Doctor said, “We found strange bite marks though. We analyzed them and found traces of bat-like DNA.”

“Oh my God, get me outa here, now!” Williams yelled and he ripped the cables off of his arms he then grabbed his uniform and put them on. He then ran out of the hospital.

“Pvt. Williams! Stop! We need that DNA sample!” Dr. Samson yelled, but to no avail. Williams was already out of the hospital. Outside he saw unfamiliar things and got confused. He then felt the pain on his neck come back. He then felt his teeth hurting, they were growing. He then looked over at an electric clock and on it said June 21, 2015.

“Crap, he could be here anytime now, it’s already almost night. One of those things in Vietnam must have bit me, I think I am becoming a vampire,” Williams thought to himself. He then looked at his skin, which was slowly getting paler as time went by. He then ran to a church that was a few blocks west. It was the church that he and his family went to every Sunday there he could be at peace. When he tried to open the door, it was locked.
Williams grabbed the door handle and tore off the door. He then noticed that he has become much stronger physically, but his mentality was lowering. When he walked in he forgot why he came. He then found an object that looked to him like a lower case “t”. He walked over to it and reached out. Once he grasped it, it began to burn his hand. “Aaah!” Williams roared out in fury.

“Oh, my word, what happened to the door?” a man in a black suit asked Williams. Williams then sniffed the air and he smelled the man’s blood.

“You look… tasty,” Williams whispered.

“What? What, did you say something? If you need anything I would be happy to help, after all I am the priest of this church,” The father said. “But I cannot stay long, me and my son must be going,” he said.

“Aaah!” Williams yelled and he charged toward the priest before he attacked he grabbed a hold of himself and thought to himself, “I have become the very thing that I hate, I must be careful.” He then turned and saw the priest’s dead body lying on the ground in a pool of blood. “Is that you Dracula? I’m still alive and more powerful!” Williams shouted.

“Impressive,” Dracula said and he tackled his fellow vampire. The two clawed and bit each other on the ground. Dracula had gained the upper hand and he stabbed his claws into Williams’ leg and threw him onto one of the pews.

“Daddy? I wanna go home. Daddy, where are you?” A young boy said.

“Ooh, seconds,” Dracula said to himself and he ran toward the young boy.

“That must be the priest’s son!” Williams thought to himself so he ran and tackled Dracula before he could get the boy. “Lay off!” Williams shouted at Dracula and he threw him onto the ground. He then grabbed a cross and dealt with the pain. He then held it to Dracula’s forehead.

“Aaah!” Dracula screamed in pain. He then got up and pushed Williams away. The young boy still stared at the battle, paralyzed with fear. Dracula then ran toward the boy once again, fangs glaring. Williams jumped, reached out and caught Dracula’s leg. He then threw him onto the stage were the Priest would stand and give speeches.

Dracula got up and grabbed an American flag that was on the stage. Williams jumped up toward the stage. While Williams was still in the air Dracula threw the flag and it flew into the chest of Williams. Dracula threw it with such force that it pinned Williams onto the other wall.

“Aaah, what the Hell!? Why can’t I kill you!?” Williams shouted in agony.

“Hehe, well you are just too weak,” Dracula said and he walked toward Williams.

“Get me down from here! Now!” Williams yelled in bitter anger.

“As you wish,” Dracula said and he sprung out his wings. He then put on a serious look and flew up toward Williams.

“Guess this guy ain’t as smart as he looks,” Williams thought to himself. When Dracula came close Williams pushed out his wings for the first time and pulled out the flag. He then grasped it tightly and charged toward Dracula before he could change his flight path. Williams lunged the pointed end of the flagpole into the stomach of Dracula.

Dracula looked at him and smiled. He then said, “You missed,” as he tapped on his heart. Williams then scowled at him and flew to the highest point on the inside of the church. There he ripped the pole out of Dracula and pushed him off. But, Dracula was too fast and caught himself before he hit the ground. Williams then jumped off onto Dracula; the two fell to the ground. Williams then put his foot between Dracula’s shoulders and grabbed his wings. Williams then pulled with all of his might and tore off Dracula’s wings.

“Aaah!” Dracula cried out in pain. He then got up, throwing Williams off of his back. “Now you die, here and now!” Dracula shouted and he grabbed Williams by the throat.

“You think you’re tough, dontcha?” Williams said and he started coughing up blood.

“Think, ha, I know,” Dracula said and he threw Williams across the floor. Dracula could hear the sound of crying coming from behind him. He then turned his head and noticed that the little boy was still there, too scared to move. Dracula then opened his jaws, let out a roar, and walked toward the small boy.

“Hey! You’re fight is with me!” Williams said and he ran toward Dracula. He extended his claws dug them into Dracula’s throat. He then pulled and blood spewed out.

Dracula quickly placed his hand over the gaping wound and turned around. “You still don’t get it do you? Are you stupid? I am immortal, I though that I gave some pretty evident clues!” Dracula yelled and he punched Williams in the stomach. “You are next!” Dracula said and he pointed toward the boy, he then turned and walked toward Williams. Williams was sitting on the ground, writhing in pain. Dracula then reached in his back pocket and pulled out a partly rusted old knife.

“Hey, that’s, that’s Pierre’s old knife! Why do you have it?” Williams asked.

“You know, no matter how old a knife gets you can always keep it sharp,” Dracula said.

“How did you get it?” Williams shouted.

“Well, I took it as a souvenir. You see, I killed the original owner of the knife back in oh I’d say 1915. So, I think it belongs to me,” Dracula said and he licked the knife blade and then sped up and ran toward Williams. Williams then noticed that he was close to the flagpole, so he stretched and reached until he had it in his hands. He then raised it when Dracula was close enough and the tip went through Dracula’s heart.

“Die!” Williams shouted and he shoved it in deeper. Williams took in two deep breaths and looked at his fallen enemy. “Well, who’s weak now, huh?” Williams whispered into Dracula’s ear while he was dying.

“You are. You have become the very thing that you hate. Look in the mirror, oh wait, you won’t see anything,” Dracula said with blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth. Although Dracula was now nearing death he was as cocky as ever, as though this was the best moment in his life.

“You, know right now isn’t the best time for you to make so many jokes,” Williams said.

“Oh, ha, well my fellow vampire I bid you a horrible death and a fine day. You are officially the same as me,” Dracula said and his body disintegrated into a pile of dust.

“He’s, he’s right. Even right now I grow a lust for blood,” Williams thought to himself. He then stared at the little boy that he fought so hard to keep alive. The boy looked at Williams and appeared to smile, Williams just looked on the ground and a tear dropped from the corner of his eye, pounding into the dirty floor, cleaning it slightly. He then walked over to the flagpole, still covered in blood and dust. He picked up the makeshift weapon and slowly walked toward the fragile young child…

Chapter 8:
Hunted

It has been two days since Pvt. Williams has began his search for other soldiers; and all the while he feels as though he is being watched, watched by a powerful group. The slow strike of paranoia begins setting in as Williams moves on. No matter how strong this feeling is, whenever he looks back nothing is there.

The imminent fear of death and capture was on his mind so he kept moving. Sweat slowly walked down his brow, like molasses out of a jar. He had found a knife on the ground, he figured that it belonged to another soldier and continued on that path. He took a piece of thin rope and tied the knife to the side of his boot. After that his search continued.

“Oh my God, where is anyone? This is getting ridiculous,” Williams said to himself. He then heard rustling behind him, he turned around and pointed one of the revolvers toward the direction he heard the noise coming from. “Come on out! I’m tired of you pieces of crap following me. If you Vietnamese want to kill me, get it over with!” Williams yelled. Just then the bushes rustled some more and out came a little squirrel. Williams chuckled and turned around. Behind him was a group of fourteen bloodthirsty vampires. One was directly in his face; the monster’s mouth was surrounded in a circle of blood. Flesh was stuck in between its teeth.

“Holy Hell,” Williams said to himself as the vampiric demons attacked. Williams unloaded the pistol in his hand by rapidly shooting. He then reached down to his waist and grabbed the other. His hand began throbbing from firing so many bullets.

“This is it, I’m out of ammo, dang,” Williams said to himself. He then grabbed the barrels of the guns, which were now very hot, and he began swinging the handles at the monsters. There were only six of them left after he used all of his ammunition and his hands are now burned from the barrels of the guns.

“Die!” He yelled, the revolver handles now stained with the blood of his enemies. “Four left,” Williams said under his breath. “My arms, they don’t want to move anymore,” Williams thought to himself. While the vampires backed off for a little he leaned against a tree and pulled his boot to stomach. He then bent down and pulled a knife out with his teeth. He bit down on the handle and glared at his opponents. He then swallowed his fear and charged in headfirst.

Blood rained onto his face from stabbing the knife into his opponents. He had only killed one with his knife, three left. The dead one’s internal organs were spilled across the ground. Williams cut the enemy’s stomach completely open. Williams’ jaw was now ready to fall off from the pain. He quickly ran past them and spat the knife onto the ground. He ran as fast as he could, arms limp by his side.

“Oh my God, they’re still behind me?” Williams shouted out. His only choice was to run; his arms were too beat up from swinging and firing the revolvers. He couldn’t get over the fact of just how fast his enemies were. He then saw an oncoming log and jumped behind it and ducked low. The vampires jumped over the log and kept heading forward. He counted them as they walked by, “One, two, wait where’s the third?” He thought to himself.

Williams then looked behind himself and there, perched on the log was one of the vampires. The young private did a somersault and stood up. His arms were still in too much pain to fight with them. He quickly jumped and preformed a drop kick into the chest of the monsters. Once it fell he got up and ran back toward the camp. “I’m not gonna die you motherfu…” he said before the same vampire had tackled him.

He quickly kicked the monster in the face and got up. He was slowly regaining the use of his arms. His fingers were now able to move, twitching back to life, but nothing more. Williams then said, “ You know what? I am tired of running, lets go!” He then ran toward it and began kicking and kneeing the monster. The beast caught his leg and pulled him to the ground.

The vampire, still holding Williams’ leg, held tightly and threw Williams across the ground. It then showed its claws and slowly walked toward him. Williams dealt with the pain and moved his arms up and raised them for a fight. The vampire swung its claws and slashed Pvt. Williams’ chest. He fell back a little, but then charged. He punched the vampire several times until he had the advantage. Williams knocked the vampire down and grabbed a huge rock. He then smashed the monster’s skull multiple times and walked away.

Williams’ shirt was stained with blood and he was completely fatigued. He fell to the ground and stared at the sky. “Oh my God, I thought I was screwed,” he said to himself. And then said to himself, “Crap, those other ones are out there! What the Hell!” He then got up and continued his way back to the exact place that he was running from. There were still weapons and ammunition back there and his arms might be better by then.

It took him several hours and no rest, but he made it back to base. There he found Pierre’s 30. Cal. and a pistol of Potter’s. He picked them up and sat down at the log where only two days ago he was sitting and joking around with his buddies. He then held his hands together and bent down. He then prayed, “Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.”

After his prayer he lied on the ground. After only fifteen minutes of rest the other two vampires had come. He quickly gut up and pulled the trigger on the 30. Cal. “Darn, I forgot to reload it how could I be so stupid?” He thought to himself. He threw the gun toward one of the vampires and pulled out the pistol. He only had one clip and fired it toward the monsters. It took four of the six bullets to only kill one he then fired his final two at the other. The monster didn’t die, instead it pounced on top of Pvt. Williams. It then clawed his face until he was nearly dead from the blood loss it then bit him. Before Williams fell unconscious from the blood loss he grabbed the pistol and slammed the handle on the back of the vampire’s head, finally killing it.

Chapter 10:
Life and Death

“Hey, kid, what’s your name?” Williams asked the small boy.

“My, my name is Andrew,” the young boy said, still frightened.

“Heh, that’s my name too. How old are you?” Williams asked.

The boy raised five fingers and said proudly, “I’m five years old.”

“Good, could you do me a favor?” asked Williams.

“I guess, what is it?” Andrew said.

Williams then walked over to the boy and said, “Could you (cough, cough) could you, grab that cross and bring it here?” Williams asked. And he pointed to a cross on a table.

“Yeah, but could you do me a favor?” The boy asked and he walked over and grabbed the cross.

Williams smiled and said, “Sure kid,”

“Where’s my Dad?” Andrew asked.

The smile suddenly left Williams’ face and he looked into Andrew’s eyes. Williams had completely forgot that the priest was Andrew’s father. He then said, “Well, the devil stole him.”

A tear rolled down Andrew’s cheek and he handed Williams the cross. “Was, (sniff) was he the devil?” Andrew said while he pointed at the pile of dust lying by the fallen flag pole.

Williams said, “Yes, and well, I’m becoming the devil too.” He then put his hand out for Andrew to hand him the cross.

“Wait, who will protect me from the next devil?” Andrew asked while he clutched the cross tightly in his arms.

“Well, that is left to the future, there are some things we are not meant to know and are best left to the future.” Williams said and he grabbed the cross, he couldn’t manage seeing the little boy’s sad face and thought it best that now was the best time to go. The intensity of purity burned through his fingers. He wanted to let go, but that wasn’t an option, death was his only way out. “Aaah!” he cried out in pain. He then took one of his claws and sharpened the brass cross. The metal shavings fell on the ground with a thud as sparks flew to the air. The sharpened end shined in the light peering through the stained glass window behind the minister’s podium. He then lifted the cross blade up parallel to his heart. “You might want to turn around,” Williams said while in unimaginable pain. Andrew nodded and turned around, squeezing his eyes shut and putting his little fingers in his ears.

Williams then thrust the cross into his chest and screamed aloud. He then could see his arms turning to dust and losing a grip on the cross. Williams then looked up and whispered, “Thank you.” As his body began to disintegrate, a triumphant smile bloomed upon his face. He then was nothing more than dust.

Andrew just walked out, fingers in ears and eyes barely open, he didn’t want to see what had just happened. When he walked outside he could see the sun rising and smiled a little. He then ran home as fast as little legs would let him, to tell his mother and to look for comfort. The boy was still too innocent and young to fully take in the day’s events and he just accepted what had happened.

Epilogue


Andrew later followed in his father’s footsteps and became a priest. He always kept that same sharpened cross by his side whenever he went to sleep, still in fear that something could happen. He lived a happy life, married at age twenty-two and had two kids. He lived a normal vampire-free life, and that was to his joy.

Jacques LeVan, the grieving father. Jacques grieved the loss of his son, but still managed to smile. He smiled at the memories of his son and was still happy. His son’s life was gone, but his memories would live on. He never recovered his prized knife, simply because (as readers know) Dracula already took it. Jacques died in 1979 at the old age of 79.

Mrs. Betty Taylor, the Widow. Betty lived a lonely life after her husband died; she never remarried and remained a widow for the rest of her life. She joined many organizations that supported the troops and became very patriotic. She later died in 1962, at the age of 68. She was happy that her husband died for a good cause, but was not happy then her husband died, period.

Col. Jonathan Pierce, the shunned soldier. Pierce later died in the McKeensburg asylum. No one ever considered him to be sane; they didn’t believe his claims of vampires and Dracula. Which, if you take under consideration, isn’t that hard to believe. Would you believe a man who started telling the existence of vampires?

Pvt. Andrew Williams, our concealed hero. We already know the latter half of Pvt. Williams’ story so this is the story of his life before Vietnam. Williams was born in 1946 and was drafted into Vietnam at the age of 19. His character’s attitude was based off of that of Billy the Kid. He was shown as cocky and witty, but he was strong and wouldn’t back down from a fight. Honestly, this is my (the author’s) favorite character.

Very good story,I've loved it

Yay, someone finally commented on my story!

HAWKEYE44 wrote:Yay, someone finally commented on my story!

I've told you that I will post a comment when I read it

Cool, thanks a lot man.

HAWKEYE44 wrote:Cool, thanks a lot man.

Nah,it's notingh!
write another story

I have others, I'll post them later.

HAWKEYE44 wrote:I have others, I'll post them later.

okay,but post them on saturday or sunday,because I have to

Alright, they are on DQ, too.

lol sweet, finally uplaoded it here. Ive been too lazy to search for this fiel even though i was interested. right now im too busy drawing my characters for my new comic, but ill read whne i have time

HAWKEYE44 wrote:Alright, they are on DQ, too.

okay,thank you

Alright, Riku, when you finish reading it, post!

dude frickin Awsome it was awsome you should try and get it animated

wow, chris, infraction much?

A triple post AND overuse of smileys

fixed.

darkmage94 wrote:dude frickin Awsome it was awsome you should try and get it animated

Animated... hmm, i never thought of that, but when I am writing I always picture it as a movie, maybe this will be a project if i could get a good animator, Riku...?

Try both man !

lmao, i've got a lot of projects goin on right now, ive got like 2 on hold, and then ive got like 2-3 going on for SE advertisement. And everything is put on hold until im not sick cuz i cant seem to concentrate on flash right now

try to make a movie, riku will help you when he finishes his projects (he will learn many things).do you agree with me riku?

riku1gundam wrote:lmao, i've got a lot of projects goin on right now, ive got like 2 on hold, and then ive got like 2-3 going on for SE advertisement. And everything is put on hold until im not sick cuz i cant seem to concentrate on flash right now

I was just saying you because you're like the best on the site, and I don't know if I want to do it or not.

im trying to get into cinematic animation currently. Which requires the use of tweens. Which is like starting from square 1 since i mainly do FBF lmao.

Whatever, once again lets try to stay on topic.

>:]

You throw every thread off topic...

Thought I'd bring this back, any more comments?