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The World of Blood Touch
www.Lulu.com/gratistavampires
Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: Cinsearae Santiago
ISBN-10: 9781411697720
Type: Fiction
Pages: 264
Copyright: May 2006
A ‘psychopath’ takes time to develop. Once they are ‘born’ there’s no going back. And a psychopathic vampire is one to truly stay away from… Sallos, part of the elusive Gratista vampire clan, dishes out violence that’s haphazardly over-the-top, gleefully exacts revenge on enemies with alarming creativity, has sexual romps that would put the most self-proclaimed gigolo to shame, while dealing with the biggest mental battle of his life on a daily basis—the untimely loss of his parents and his one true love, Zeena. Not only does Sallos’s behavior upset human and vampire alike, but his conduct sometimes makes his loyalty to his clan very questionable…
**EXCERPT**
Dennis stood, twirling a small chain. I looked at it closer. A manriki
chain--one of the coolest martial arts weapons around! Rain got up, giggling.
He started popping that bad-boy like a whip, hitting the shit out of Craig.
Impressive! With each heavy sounding thunk, I knew that chain was giving
Craig pain. Good. The fucker deserved it.
"You killed our sister!" Dennis said, whipping him some more. Rain
simply stood back and watched us get our vengeance on that bastard.
I was determined to stomp a hole through that punk. With me
stomping and Dennis whipping, Craig didn't have a chance. With every
stomp, I thought of my dead father, my mother, and now Zeena. My
frustrations with Death I simply took out on him. Death was simply
disguised as Craig.
When he could barely move, Dennis and I duct-taped Craig's hands
together. I fished the car keys out of his pants pocket, along with his wallet,
then I covered his mouth with a piece of tape too, but I didn't bother with his
legs; he wouldn't have the power to save himself after what I was about to
do next anyway.
Dennis watched me hovered over Craig.s body.
"Uh, I think we should stop man. He's done."
"He.s not done until I say he's done,. I said firmly. "He deserves
everything he.s gettin'!" I looked at the two of them, and they stepped back a
little. Did I look scary or something? Sheesh!
I calmed down for a second. "Hey, if you don't wanna stay for the
finale, it's cool. I've got some last words I want to say to him anyway."
"Um, you sure?" Rain asked warily.
"Yeah. You guys were awesome. Thanks so much for helping me out.
Besides, if I do get in trouble, I don't want you guys involved in any way." I
gave Rain a kiss on the cheek, and patted Dennis on his back. They quickly
walked arm and arm out of the parking lot. Good. I didn't need an audience.
It seemed like I worked better that way.
When they were gone, I dragged Craig's ass out of the lot, making
sure no one saw me. I got him to the Delaware River, and looked him in the
eye.
"You sorry ass fuck," I said. "Oh well, here's your stop!" I said
cheerfully, rolling him to the edge of the dock like a log. His muffled
screams did him no good.
I squatted down, hunched over his ear and whispered to him, "Be sure
to tell Zeena hi for me."
I stood back up and pushed him over with my foot, then watched him
drop and listened to that glorious splash.
You know, there's probably all types of nasty shit floating around the
bottom of the Delaware--stolen cars, guns, remnants of bodies, all kinds of
trash, mutated fish-monsters from all the toxins spilled into it over the years, you name it.
And I just added another pollutant.
Oh well.
Here fishi-fishi-fishies..it.s din-din time.!
***
I drove the Lexus around for a while in silence, thinking about what I
just did. I know what you're thinking. No, I had no remorse. He was supposed
to be my best friend! He was a stranger to me all over again! So I made
myself his judge, jury and executioner. Fuck him, I didn't give a shit! He
killed someone with a promising future, someone intelligent, humble, and
loving, and didn't care if his friend got killed in the process either! Someone like that doesn't deserve to walk the planet.
Hell, he was really fuckin' sick in the head if you ask me.
I checked the glove compartment for the car's registration. Craig only
had one cousin that lived in Philly, and I knew his name.
I looked at the papers. Nope. Not his cousin's car, of course.
I read the name and address. Maybe this was guy that shot Zeena.
I parked the car alongside a curb and closed my eyes, trying to
recapture that vision in my mind of the hand that held the gun. Trying to see
if there might have been any distinctive markings on it.
There. A small tattoo of a spade on his wrist. God, how corny.
The night was still young. Hell, I had all the time in the world right
then, and I was still in a vengeful mood. I wanted blood for blood!
And even more convenient! He lived in South Philly. I wasn't too far
away.
You're gonna meet your maker tonight, whoever the fuck you are,
David. Soon enough...
***
Know something? Whenever I fight, I at least want a fucking
challenge. If it's not a challenge, then it's boring as fuck! It makes me pissed
that I had to waste energy in the first place!
I already knew what I was going to do to the guy. Previously stopping
at a random public phone booth and ripping out the metal phone cord, I
parked the dude's car in front of his house, got out with the cord in my hand,
and called his number on Craig's cellphone.
"Yo," came a dense, gorilla-dumbass sounding voice.
"Dave," I said in my best impersonation of Craig (hooray for theater
class!). "Got your car out front. Meet me outside real quick." I flipped the
phone shut, not giving him a chance to respond, and walked a few yards
away from the car to stand beside a tree on the curb.
It took about five minutes for that fat-assed fuck to come out. How he
managed to get himself in a Lexus is beyond me. Wearing black pajama
pants, a wife-beater shirt and flip-flops like it was summertime or
something, I noticed the ketchup stain near his left man-boob. Must have
been eating.
Plus, he breathed heavy! Ew! I could hear him from where I was
standing!
"Yo! Where ya at?" he said, then sucked on his fingers, getting the
remnants of his food off of them. Ugh!
That would be his last meal, that's for sure. I started walking towards
him. He looked in my direction, but noticing I wasn't Craig, looked in
another direction.
"Dude, where the fuck you at?" he continued, making his way to the
car. He bent down to peek into it, and that's when I jumped on that fat, jelly
roll-looking motherfucker, wrapping the cord around his thick-ass neck.
He gasped for air, sounding like a fuckin' sick elephant, and clawed at
the cord. I don't think he even saw my face.
He must have gotten some senses and elbowed me in the stomach. It
caught me by surprise and I loosened my grip a little. The bastard bent over,
caught some air, and threw up. Now I knew what he had. A cheese steak and
fries. That shit splattered mostly on his feet and the sidewalk. He slipped on
it a little, giving me the leverage I needed to tighten my grip on the phone
cord again. So now it was back to hearing him sound like a dying moose. He
stuck his tongue out, all puffed up and purple from the grape soda he must
have had, then after a minute, he finally dropped right in his vomit. Yuk.
My heart raced. I felt like I had another adrenaline rush and jumped
up and down like a little kid to shake it off. Boy, was I glad no one was
around.
Quickly, I trotted down the street, turned a corner, and casually
walked down another neighborhood block, while I started humming
Depeche Mode's 'Black Celebration' to myself while I thought of Zeena.
Let someone else find that big pile of shit!
***
I'm not a bad person. I'm not! Seriously! Those fuckers were scum,
and you know it. I'm just a vigilante. Like Batman! Taking justice into my
own hands! Nothin' wrong with that! At least when doing it my way, justice
gets done way faster than going through some bullshit court crap which
would take weeks or months to go through. That's too many days for the
offender to be walking around, know what I mean? Not only is 'justice'
blind, she's a fuckin' pick-and-choosy bitch! Nah, I don't have time for that
bullshit.
I thought about what I did. Again. Still no remorse.
Why should I have remorse for criminals?
Excerpt
"Man, if blood tasted like Spaghetti-O's, there'd be a LOT of dead fuckers on this planet. Do you know how much I LOVE Spaghetti-O's?!"---Sallos
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