Definitely not uneventful.

Lester pulled into the lot and parked his red F-150 in an empty space. The bar across the street, the Tin Bird, had its usual crowd of college kids for a Saturday night, the same pack of vapid, barely-out-of-their-teens meat sacks that normally caroused such places.

He was a little out of place here, he being in his early thirties while dressed like a cowboy, but he knew what he was doing. He had a target in mind, and she was here…He knew it.

He’d cased her for a week already, and now it was finally time to act. She was a pretty little thing, a sorority girl, short, about 5’2”, pixie-cut dyed-blonde hair, hourglass body, button nose, round lips, decent boobs, cute face and smile…He hoped she wouldn’t put up too much of a fight.

He crossed the street and walked toward the bar entrance, the shaded double doors that led to this pit of hormones and booze.

This was a Midwest college town, so it wasn’t like there were bouncers out front to pick and choose who got in. Nah, those dinks were actually in the bar, and their job was just to toss out the drunken toddlers that caused too much trouble for the night.

But all of that was irrelevant. He had something more important on his mind right now…He had to find his target.

He walked into the bar and gave a quick scan of his surroundings. There were a lot of college kids, just like he’d thought, so it was tough to just pick out one individual, but he spied her, nonetheless.

She was dressed in a green college sweater with the Greek symbols of her sorority on it, blue jeans wrapped tightly around her heart-shaped butt, something attractive, true, but he could tell she was dressing down. She wasn’t even wearing makeup.

She was laying her own bait. She was at the bar sitting on a stool, and she was laying her own bait.

She was selling that cute face, an innocence in her blue eyes that was an outright lie, but he was well aware of these tricks…It didn’t matter…He’d make short work of her. After all, he had his own tricks.

The music was a little loud in this boozy arena of vapid speech and drunken hormones, but this wasn’t a nightclub. No, the Tin Bird was just a bar, but that was about the best you got in a Midwest college town.

He made a beeline for her and sat right next to her, not even trying to put on a discreet show. No, he needed to look like a predator, to raise her alarms, her red flags, because he’d had her pegged the moment he’d laid eyes upon her. She was the kind of girl who wanted some kind of social justice, but she’d veered far from the normal blogging and vlogging diatribes that your average SJW preached from their pulpits…Oh, she’d gone way dark.

This was the way Lester liked them, though. He didn’t have to strain to come up with a reason to do what he liked to do to them, and what he liked to do wasn’t very nice.

He really hoped he wasn’t going to have to torture her to get what he wanted. He was good at breaking fingers, but sometimes, this wasn’t enough. Often, it took direct but small cuts to the nipples and other erogenous zones—the ones with the most nerve endings—to get them to squeal…He kind of enjoyed that, especially the look of absolute terror in their eyes just before the razorblade touched their sensitive parts, but breaking fingers was usually enough.

His last had been a young Latina in the city. She’d been twenty-one, just old enough to drink, but she’d been a spitfire. He had broken all eight of her fingers and both of her thumbs, and she still hadn’t talked. No, it had been the razorblade to her junk that had made her squeal. That had gotten her squawking.

He really didn’t want to do that again. He kind of enjoyed the torture, but that last one had worn on him, so hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that this time. True, there was a part of him that liked listening to their screams, but that got old, you know? He wanted to be on hiatus from that for a while.

Of course, he’d gone all the way before, six times, in fact, but it was a sick, sick thing to do. It was the fact that he enjoyed it that got to him, but to be honest, there were other ways to get the information he needed. That’s what he should have done with the Latina, but…

Lester pulled himself inward and pitched out the memory of that last botched job. This time was going to be different. This time was going to run more smoothly. He wasn’t going to collect that this time. He wanted to; he wanted to take it from this new mark and listen to her scream in pain and horror, but the truth was, he had enough of those already. He didn’t need any more.

But back to the task at hand.

He turned toward his mark and flashed her a cocky grin. She had noticed him, of course, but he knew she was waiting for him to make the first move, so he did.

He pushed up slightly on his black Stetson and gave her a quick nod in recognition. He laid both hands on the bar in front of him and adjusted his black duster. He was a redneck this time, a good ol’ country boy, someone that normally made sorority girls like this little thing nervous just to be around.

“Hey, what you drinkin’?” he asked.

“Oh…I’m…uhhh…” stammered the blonde. “I…”

Her cheeks flushed red as she turned slightly from his obtrusive gaze, but he did not take his eyes off her.

Either she was really good at this, or she was a straight up newb. Either way, she was leaving in his truck tonight. He was going to make sure of that.

“I’m Red,” lied Lester. “Let’s start off with some beers…Hey, barkeep! I need a couple of beers over here!”

He did not give her time to object. This was always a mistake when dealing with new marks. You had to keep them flustered, on the defensive, or you’d back yourself into a corner, one marked with the word “rejection.”

He paid the bartender and tipped the guy, and then he handed her one of the sixteen-ounce glasses of beer. She took it out of courtesy, a mistake on her part, so things were already going smoothly.

“Thank you,” she said shyly.

It was time to pour on some aggressive obnoxiousness. How he’d caught her alone without some college dweeb on her was nothing short of a miracle, so he’d have to act quickly to get her in his truck.

“You’re pretty, you know that?” he grinned.

He took a sip of his beer, and she took a sip of hers due to nervousness; he could tell. All he needed was to lighten her up, get her talking, and then he had her.

“Th…Thanks,” she said uncertainly.

Yeah, she was a newb. This was going to be easier than he’d originally thought.

“I like pretty girls,” lied Lester. “I’m a purebred American country boy, though. I don’t meet too many college girls.”

“How do you know I’m a college girl?” asked the blonde.

Maybe she thought she was being coy, but the answer was pretty obvious. Either she was a serious pro, which he highly doubted, or she was just straight up new, like “first time” new, a virgin at this kind of thing.

“You’re wearing one of them college shirts,” he smirked.

She looked down at her own green sorority sweater, and he immediately took advantage of that. He flicked up on her button nose with his right index finger, and her gaze popped back up to stare into his dark eyes, her own blue eyes wide with sudden alarm.

He laughed and then shook his head.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Couldn’t help myself.”

She gave him a nervous chuckle in return and took another sip from her beer. This kind of drink wasn’t nearly stiff enough for his tastes, but he could tell she was a lightweight, so it wouldn’t take much to get her to loosen up.

“Whatchyou studying at the college?” he asked.

“Oh…uhhh…nursing,” she nodded. “I want to be a nurse.”

“I getchya,” he replied. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Yeah,” she said with a slight smile.

“I’m working as a mechanic,” said Lester. “I mostly work on agricultural vehicles, tractors and the like, but it pays good money.”

“Really?” asked the blonde. “That’s interesting.”

But he was on the clock, so this small talk wasn’t doing him any favors…It was time to step up his game.

“What’s your name anyway?” asked Lester. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to. I can just call you, ‘Sugar.’”

“It’s Sherry,” said the blonde politely.

That was a lie, of course. Her real name was Rebecca Roms, ‘Becca’ for short. Her birthday was March 4th, her parents were Debra and Osmo Roms, she secretly liked horror movies, and her browsing history had some interesting tells on it…She had a penchant for monster porn stories, some really hardcore stuff at that. He especially liked the one with the werewolf that ravished a young woman who was alone in a cabin in the woods.

She shared her apartment with three other girls, but all of them went to class during the day, so it hadn’t been a challenge for him to pick the apartment lock and scope out her life’s history, what he could glean anyway. From what he’d learned, she was the only one doing this…None of her roommates were in on it. However, what he did not have was the information he needed, but he’d get that soon enough. He just needed to get her in his truck.

He just needed to work on her a little more.

“Sherry…Sugar…Either one’s fine with me,” he shrugged.

She took another nervous drink of her beer.

“Sherry is fine,” she said quietly.

Her blue eyes were suddenly downcast, her look sullen.

She was getting cold feet. He needed to lighten her up, not depress her. Unfortunately, alcohol could work both ways…What he really needed was a commitment from her. He needed to egg her on, get her to see him as the bad guy. Then she’d make her move.

“Sherry’s a pretty name,” he said matter-of-factly. “I knew a church girl by the name of Sherry. She was real nice to me, but she didn’t want anything serious with me. Let me down nice and easy…You know, I liked Sherry. Wish more girls were like her.”

“I’m sure she had her reasons,” said Becca.

He would think of her as Becca. He’d call her Sherry, but he did not want to forget her real name. Real names were a weapon he often used when the timing was right.

“It’s because I get a little angry at times,” said Lester. “I think she knew that. Just can’t seem to hold back, you know? I forget sometimes that you can’t be rough with a girl. They’re not tough like guys…You’re not supposed to get angry like that with a girl…Next thing you know, there’re a couple of bruises, and then you’re the bad guy…

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll meet someone someday that’ll tame that beast, but it would have to be a pretty special girl…I can understand if you don’t like that kinda guy…We can just talk if you’d like. We can talk and drink if you’d like, one on one…”

“Oh…” said Becca.

Her blue eyes flitted back and forth as if she were thinking of exactly what to say, which was exactly what she was doing. She was really new at this, and she probably hadn’t received much in the way of instruction, just empty promises, but that was how the game worked.

“We can drink and talk,” said Becca.

He’d known that would work. He’d seen her Tumblr account. She wasn’t going to pass up an admitted abuser.

But it was time to set the bait.

“We can go talk one on one somewhere else,” grinned Lester. “It don’t have to be here…You got a boyfriend? A girlfriend?”

Her cheeks flushed red as her eyes widened slightly. She lowered her head, her blue eyes flitting back and forth, and then she made a silent nod to herself, silent but subtle, a tell that Lester still noticed. She downed her beer in quick gulps after that, emptying the glass before setting it back down upon the bar top.

“Doggone, little lady,” said Lester in slight surprise. “Here…You can finish mine.”

He slid her his barely tasted beer, she placed both of her small hands around the glass, and then she downed that one as well. She placed the empty glass back upon the bar top, looked up at him, and grinned.

“We can go talk somewhere else,” she said in weirdly happy voice.

Yep, there was no more cold feet here. She had made a snap judgement about him, a not so happy one, and what she was planning really ticked him off, but he was careful not to show it.

“Sure thing,” he grinned in return. “My truck’s just outside…You walk here? You need a ride?”

“Yeah,” smiled Becca. “I could use a ride.”

“Great,” said Lester.

And that was that. They left the bar together, crossed the street, and Lester escorted her into his red F-150.

She buckled up and gave him a strange look, but he already knew where she wanted to go, the place he wanted to go as well, though where she wanted to lead him was the information he was missing, so naturally he had to ask.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Oh…ummm…” said Becca as she shook her head for a second.

Yep. Alcohol was kicking in.

“I’m going to my sorority house,” she nodded. “My sorority sisters would definitely like to meet you.”

“They would, would they?” asked Lester. “I don’t know about that. I thought we would just talk one on one.”

“Oh, you don’t understand,” said Becca as she shook her head no. “They love guys like you.”

He knew what he was doing, of course. He had to play a little hard to get, or she’d get suspicious.

“Are they pretty?” asked Lester. “I can’t imagine a girl being prettier than you.”

“Oh, I’m the plain one,” smiled Becca. “I’m kind of jealous of them. Ravina, for instance, is drop dead gorgeous. She makes me look like trash.”

Bingo. “Ravina” was the name he was looking for. He was definitely on the right track. He had been 99.99% sure beforehand, but there was always that doubt…Now there wasn’t any.

“Is that right?” asked Lester.

It was time to pour it on thick, make sure she was devoted. This was a little too easy, and the easy ones made him paranoid. He didn’t like it when things were too easy. It didn’t sit right with him.

He hit the lock button, and the doors locked with a loud click.

“I’ll tell you what,” he nodded. “I’ll meet your friends, but I want to know if they’re fun. Are they fun, Sherry?”

“Yeah,” nodded Becca with wide eyes. “Oh, yeah. They’re really fun.”

Lester pursed his lips, pushed up his Stetson, and leaned his head to one side as he studied her. This was his redneck audacity pose, something he rarely used, but it was a lot of fun when he did.

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll go…but I need to know how fun they really are.”

“How so?” asked Becca, a look of stark confusion upon her cute face.

“You show me your rack,” he grinned.

“What?” asked the young blonde in surprise.

“Show me your ta-tas, and I’ll meet your friends,” he shrugged. “The way I figure it, you’re the shy one, so pony up, and I’ll go. I wanna have some fun, not be bored by girly talk.”

The young woman looked out of sorts for a moment, the scarlet in her cheeks noticeable even in the dim light of the parking lot lamps, but it was the swift decision that crawled across her face, that telltale look of commitment that convinced him she was following through with what she had started.

She reached down, pulled up her sweater and bra, and showed him her bare breasts. He grinned like an idiot in return, but this was part of the act. There was no actual surprise here. He’d seen a million of these already.

She lowered her sweater and adjusted her bra from beneath that article of clothing.

Her face was flushed, some slight sweat across her brow, so her adrenaline had kicked in, the thrill of the hunt, and she was probably feeling it between her legs, too. These newbs were all the same as far as he could tell.

“Nice,” grinned Lester. “You got a beautiful rack, Sugar.”

“Thank you,” grinned Becca in return. “Now, let’s go to my sorority. You promised.”

He hadn’t promised anything, but whatever.

“Yepper,” said Lester. “Can’t wait to meet the girls. I can tell this is gonna be lots of fun.”

“Oh, it definitely will be,” nodded Becca.

Her blue eyes were wide again, crazed. She knew what was going to happen once he got there, and she was following through with it anyway. True, he’d given her the idea that he was an abusive piece of dog doo, but that didn’t justify what she thought was about to happen…Of course, he had actually done some truly terrible things, but she didn’t need to know that…Not yet anyway.

At least he wasn’t going to have to resort to torture this time in order to get directions. No, she was too new and naïve to hide anything from him. A more seasoned girl would have picked up on his BS a mile away, but then he would have had to get creative, and whenever he did that, the pay wasn’t as good.

Still, Becca was a cutie. He definitely wouldn’t have minded adding her sweet piece to his collection.

He started the truck and pulled out of the lot, and she gave him directions to somewhere on the outskirts of town, nowhere near the university, but this was to be expected. They weren’t going to a sorority anyway.

Nevertheless, he had to stay in character, and that meant a little suspicion was in order, especially when they had driven far enough out of town.

“This don’t look like no way to a sorority,” he said.

They had pulled off of a back highway and onto an equally back gravel road. Out here was nothing but trees, trees on each side of the road, something he was well used to, but still…this was not a good place to be for any normal guy. Luckily, he wasn’t normal in the slightest.

“That’s because…uhhh…they…the sorority got a good deal on a house out here,” said Becca. “It’s a pretty big place. You’ll like it.”

She was lying, of course, but he already knew that. They both knew they weren’t going to a sorority, but she didn’t know he knew that.

“Okay,” shrugged Lester. “If you say so.”

“Oh, yeah,” nodded Becca.

They drove up to a large three-story house, something completely out of place amongst the trailers and white trash homes that normally bedecked this area. He parked on the other side of the road, as there were already a number of cars in the driveway and along the house-side of the road.

“We’re here,” grinned the young blonde. “Come on in and meet the girls.”

“Are you sure?” asked Lester. “Can they have guys over?”

“Oh, yeah,” nodded Becca. “Come on in, and we’ll have some fun.”

They were going to have fun all right. Well…he was.

He unlocked the doors, they both exited the truck, and Lester grabbed his black duffel from his back seat before shutting his driver’s-side door. He walked around his truck to escort his “date” to the front door of the house, but she eyed his bag for a second.

“What’s that?” she asked in audible confusion.

“Beer,” he lied. “Can’t have a party without beer.”

“Oh,” she said, and she questioned him no further on it.

He shook his head at her obliviousness. Good grief, she really was a newb.

They walked up to the “sorority” door, Becca unlocked it with a key she had produced from her right jeans pocket, and they walked right on in.

The place was well lit, there was a lot of well-cared-for old furniture strewn here and there, an old wood floor beneath that furniture, and the walls were garnished with a goodly number of old paintings and decorative tapestries. It was more like a bordello than a sorority, but this was not surprising at all.

Five unbelievably hot women rose from where they were lounging upon various couches, but Lester didn’t bother to study them. No, he set down his duffel and went straight to unzipping it.

He needed to make this quick…He needed the edge of surprise.

“Look what I brought!” said Becca in excitement.

She turned toward him with a wave of her hand just as he pulled out his crossbow from his duffel. Her expression changed to one of confusion at first, but this incertitude changed to surprise and pain as he planted his right boot right between her legs with one swift, well-placed kick.

He’d learned a long time ago that if you kicked a girl hard enough in the baby maker, it didn’t matter whether she had danglers or not. She would bend right over for you, and that position always gave you a better target to kick.

He brought that same leg up in a crescent after that, striking across her right cheek with that same right boot as she bent over from his previous sudden and brutal attack. She shrieked as she spun and fell to her stomach upon the old wood floor below, but he let this momentary violence give him an edge in time, because he needed every advantage he could get while inside a nest.

Lester brought up his crossbow and fired with both experienced precision and a distinct lack of hesitation. The bolt in question lodged itself in one particularly hot black girl’s chest, right underneath her left breast, right in the heart.

This “young” lady with an afro was dressed in something from the late 1960s, a paisley button up with tan bellbottoms, something very outdated but still somehow hot.

Her lips opened with a gasp of surprise as she lit up from the point of impact, turning to ash within seconds, those outdated clothes burning up along with her.

His bolts were silver-plated, blessed, and dipped in holy water. He didn’t take any chances when it came to the undead.

A debutante-looking blond of the group was on him in a heartbeat.

She had long curly blonde hair, and she wore a summer dress with flower print, something from the 1940s. She was drop dead gorgeous in the face, but it was her speed and dress that tipped him off about how dangerous she really was. The older they were, the deeper in the manure you were.

This particular bloodsucker hissed, bared her fangs, and was suddenly in his face. She was a speedster, and that was dangerous, but he knew how to handle her. He had a defense against this sort of thing.

Her clawed right hand reached forward to tear through his black T, her intent to plunge that hand into his chest and rip out his heart, but he had a crucifix taped there with duct tape, because he knew this tactic. It was vamp-protection 101.

She drew back her hand as it smoked and popped, and she let forth a short shriek as she bent over and backed away from him, but that was all the time he needed to deal with her.

He dropped his crossbow, pulled forth a flask of holy water from one of his duster’s inner pockets, uncorked the glass container, and doused her in the face with it.

The blonde debutante screamed as her face simultaneously melted and lit up in a blaze. She staggered across the old wood floor before falling to it, but her burning head lit up the side of a couch just before she turned to ash.

Yep, the place was going to go up, and it wouldn’t take long for it to burn to the ground once it did.

“Ravina!” screamed one of the remaining three vampiresses.

So, he’d already gotten her, target eliminated, and it had been out of sheer reaction…Well, c’est la vie.

The other three vamps came at him in unison, like enraged hornets from a smashed nest, rushing him all at once, a redhead, another blonde, and a brunette. The redhead and the blonde were dressed in modern fashion, young ones, so to speak, probably turned no longer than a decade ago, but the brunette had the clothes and hairstyle of the 80s.

The brunette was still hot, but Lester never did understand why vamps never changed their styles…It was weird to just keep an outdated fashion like that. He’d only ever known one vamp that had changed her original style, but she was unique as far as he was concerned.

Lester pulled forth his silver-plated Bowie knife and threw it as the redhead came at him first. The shaft of the blade buried itself in her forehead, right between her green eyes. Her head went up in flames after that, and he planted his right boot in her solar plexus, causing her to explode into ash just as she struck the burning couch behind her.

He was probably going to have to replace some of his gear, and that wasn’t going to be cheap. Good thing he was getting paid well for this job, because he never went into a nest without the proper gear.

He ducked underneath the new blonde’s swiping right claw, snatched up a crossbow bolt from his open black duffel, and rammed it into her stomach. The new blonde screamed as her torso lit up, and she was a walking pyre for a few seconds, but then she turned to ash as she fell to the floor, puffing away in a cloud of black soot and flaming specks to spill all over the wood floor below.

The last vampiress, the brunette with 80s fashion, dropped into a wrestler’s stance, charged, and grabbed him by both arms just below the shoulders, but her expression changed from one of anger to one of shock as he stopped her charge by impaling her upon the consecrated wooden stake he’d quickly pulled from his duster. She disappeared in smoking ash after that, and his job was done for the moment.

If there were any more vamps in this place, they were on different floors, but the house was quickly going up in flames, so there was no more time to waste. He wasn’t going to be able to track down any more for the time being. He’d just have to hope they went up with the house…Besides, he’d already nailed his target.

He picked up his crossbow, dropped it in the duffel, turned, opened the front door, and tossed the bag outside. He then yanked up a very shocked, terrified, and surprised Becca from the floor and threw her outside the house like so much trash.

He slammed the door shut behind himself as he roughly pulled up his new hostage with his right hand while carrying his duffel with his left.

“Get moving!” he yelled.

The young blonde shrieked and stumbled forward as Lester dragged her to the truck.

“Don’t kill me!” screeched Becca, but Lester ignored her.

He threw his duffel in the back of his F-150, pulled her around to the passenger side of the truck, and forced her inside. He trotted around to the driver’s side, got in, and quickly locked the doors.

“I’m not one of them!” cried the sorority girl. “I swear, I’m not one of them!”

Lester pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his duster and quickly snapped them over her thin wrists. These were basic cuffs, so his employer had the keys for them as well. Even so, he was only using them to dissuade his new hostage from jumping from the truck while it was moving.

“Shut up,” he said gruffly.

“Please!” begged the girl. “Let me go! I’m not one of them! I swear!”

He reached over, grabbed her cuffed right hand with both of his, and then bent back her pinky until the digit broke with an audible “CRACK!”

The young woman screamed from the pain, but Lester ignored her pitiful cries. Mercy was something he no longer had.

“You are going to shut up,” he said firmly. “If you don’t keep quiet, I’m going to break another finger. If you keep it up, I break more fingers. If I run out of fingers, I cut off a nipple…Understand? Nod your head if you understand.”

She nodded her head as fat tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. He could tell she was already in intense pain, horrified, and terrified at the same time. Also, her jeans were soaked between her legs, a large dark stain there that spoke volumes.

He started the truck and drove after that, occasionally checking the mirror to see the enormous forest fire he’d just started. That house had really gone up, so if there were any more vamps in the area, they weren’t happy.

He drove back to the highway and headed toward the city. It was about an hour drive to get there, but he had an appointment to keep, and he needed to get paid.

It took about thirty minutes, but she spoke again, this time in a much more rational voice. She was trying to bargain, but he’d already known she would. It was always the same…They never could keep their mouths shut once he had them in custody.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly. “I don’t know where you’re taking me, but you can let me go now. I won’t tell anyone…I…I’m just a normal person. I’m not one of them. I haven’t even done anything wrong.”

“You tried to feed me to a bunch of bloodsuckers,” grunted Lester.

“Th…That’s what they wanted me to do,” sputtered Becca. “They…They threatened to kill my family if I didn’t.”

“That’s a lie, Becca, and we both know it,” he said firmly.

She stared over at him in both surprise and fear…Yep, real names had power.

“How do you know my name?” she asked.

“I know a lot about you,” said Lester. “I cased your place and got a real close look at your life. Your name is Rebecca Roms. You wanted to be a vampire after you met a real vampire. She convinced you she’d make that a reality if you played the part of bait and lure. This was your first time bringing someone in. I ruined all that for you. Now they’re destroyed, and you’re screwed. End of story.”

“I…It’s not…I don’t think it’s that simple…” stalled out the girl.

“Doesn’t matter now,” said Lester with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore. Just be quiet.”

They didn’t say anything for a few minutes before she started up again, but he’d already known she would. He didn’t hunt male vampires; he only hunted the women, and these girls, these thralls, these little honeybees that brought in the guys?…They were all the same beggars, liars, and blood-junkies looking for that next vamp hit. They couldn’t keep their mouths shut to save their lives.

“You’re a vampire hunter, right?” she asked.

“Yep,” he said in firm reply.

“Are vampire hunters supposed to attack normal people?” she asked. “You hurt me, Red. You kicked me and then broke my finger. I’m…I’m in a lot of pain. I need a hospital.”

“Yep,” he said again.

“Well?” she asked.

“Don’t care,” he replied.

“Why not?” asked Becca, but her tone was desperate, whiney.

“Because you’re a slave, Becca,” replied Lester.

She winced at the sound of her own name, but he had expected this. It was clear she was not used to being on the defensive.

“I wasn’t a slave,” she said quietly. “I was working for them as an equal. They were going to make me one of them…I…I don’t want to do that anymore, though. I just want to live a normal life now.”

“No, you don’t,” said Lester.

“Yes, I do,” nodded Becca. “They were evil…I see that now. I was blinded by all of the glamour and power and eternal youth, but I see the truth now. Vampires are evil. I see that now.”

“No, you don’t,” said Lester. “You’ve been drinking their blood.”

“What?” asked Becca. “How did you…? What?”

Her expression was one of genuine shock, but he knew a vamp junkie when he saw one.

“In fact, you’re shaking right now because you need another hit,” continued Lester. “You could heal that finger on your own if you could just get one more hit…I can always tell. You injure a thrall, and their body reacts. That’s how you can spot a vamp junkie.”

“Well, if you’re so smart, then you can help me,” said Becca. “Is that why you broke my finger?…You were being cautious, weren’t you? I really do need to have some more blood, but if you can help me get off of it, then I’d never be able to repay you. You’d be saving my life…

“I can tell that you’re actually a good person, Red. I can see now that you were trying to save me. In fact, I know you’ll help me. If you help me, I’ll give you anything you want. I don’t have much, but I do still have something I can offer…You…You can have my body if you want. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You don’t have to take it by force, you know. I’ll give it to you.”

The bargaining again. It was annoying, true, but there was no reason for him to be overly cruel. He didn’t have to break more fingers to deal with this. Of course, he did enjoy that torture to some degree, especially if it would shut her up, but…nah. He still wanted to be paid in full. He had bills to pay.

“Just shut up,” he said firmly.

“I can’t,” said Becca. “I don’t know where you’re taking me, and I’m scared, Red. Wouldn’t you be scared if a stranger was holding you hostage?”

“You’re lucky I haven’t killed you,” said Lester. “Unfortunately, I need you alive. So here’s the deal…I’m going to get very creative with a razor blade and what’s inside your panties if you don’t shut up.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” said Becca. “I know you wouldn’t, Red. You’re actually a good person.”

“Uh, huh,” said Lester. “You actually think I’m a good person…Uh, huh…Look…I want you to open the dash box there in front of you and take out the length of twine inside.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “But I know you’re a good person, Red. I know you’ll help me and let me go.”

She reached up with her cuffed hands, opened up the dash compartment, and pulled out the length of bloodstained twine he had stashed inside it. This was his “shut the hell up” card, though he didn’t play it very often.

“I know you won’t do anythi…” she said, but her voice trailed off as she stared at the length of bloody twine in her hands, her breath sucking in at the sight of it, her face twisting in horror upon its comprehension.

He had a line of cured and dried lady parts strung along it, a total of six to be exact, all cut with precision from his victims, the full flowery bits complete with petals and stem, because he was an artist in some respects.

She dropped the disgusting line of feminine trophies to the truck floor and gave a slight wail, her cuffed hands shaking from realization, her whole body trembling in response to this revelation.

“Now I want you to shut up for the remainder of this trip,” said Lester. “If you don’t want me to add to that collection, you won’t say another word. Keep talking, and I will go straight to the razor blade, and I’ll take it right inside your panties. No more broken fingers…You won’t die when I cut it off, but you sure won’t be happy about it…The other girls sure as hell weren’t.”

The young woman silently wept as she took in saliva-gulping breaths…Yep. It was sinking in, but more importantly, he had finally shut her up.

They drove to the suburbs of the city, but Lester took a turn toward the well-to-do district. There was one particular residence he was driving to.

He pulled up to the gate of a large mansion, rolled down the window, and stared at the security camera for a few seconds. A light flashed green under the camera, the gate opened, and Lester drove through that gate and onto a long gravel driveway.

He parked his truck in a small paved lot, got out, nodded toward one of the large and burly security guards dressed in black, and then pulled his prize from his truck, though she was still weeping and definitely not happy to be with him.

A couple of security guards armed with SMGs walked them to the front door of this huge and opulent building, and then they were escorted inside.

He sat a silent, sullen, sniffling, and terrified Becca upon a small couch in the foyer and waited for his employer to arrive, all while a couple of security guards watched over them as they waited.

“Stupid thing to hook up with those bloodsuckers,” said Lester quietly. “Did you honestly think that would work out?…I got news for you, Sugar. Things aren’t what they’re like in the movies…Never are.”

The double white doors that led into the grand hall opened up, and a tall, pale woman in a sparkling red dress walked into the foyer.

“Ahh, Les, my favorite little psycho,” smiled the woman.

She was at least six-foot-two, in her late thirties, very slender, and she had small boobs, a gorgeous face, dark and flashing eyes, and straight, raven-black hair that dropped down to almost the top of her shapely bottom.

“So it’s done, then?” asked this mysterious woman.

“Yep,” he said firmly. “Got Ravina. Killed four more of them.”

“That’s confirmed?” asked the woman.

“Yep,” he replied.

“Excellent!” said the tall lady with a clap of her pale hands. “That was all of them…Excellent, excellent, excellent…Ah, and I see you’ve brought in little Becca.”

The tall and slender woman leaned over the young blonde and smiled, but that smile quickly turned into a frown. She gingerly held up Becca’s right hand, inspected the girl’s broken pinky, and then ran her left index finger along the bruise on Becca’s right cheek.

“She’s bruised in the face, and her finger is broken,” said the woman unhappily. “I told you to bring her in untouched. I wanted her undamaged, Lester.”

“Couldn’t be helped,” shrugged Lester. “She’s still alive, and she’s mostly there.”

“Oh, really?” asked the woman in an accusing tone. “Are all of her parts intact?…I know your vices, Lester.”

“She’s in one piece,” grunted Lester.

The tall woman stared down at him with an angry glare, but that glare softened after a few seconds.

He’d already known it would. She could always tell when he was lying, and this time, he wasn’t lying.

“Oh, good,” smiled the woman. “Well, in that case, you get extra pay. I can forgive what little damage you’ve already done, because I know what a monstrous struggle it had to have been for you to leave her in a pristine state.”

“Mighty grateful, Eliza,” nodded Lester. “Thank you for the payment, but I’ll be taking my leave now. I have bills to pay with that money and other matters to attend to.”

The tall and imposing woman smiled, nodded once at him, and then nodded over at one of her guards.

“Hand the man his cash,” ordered this “Eliza.” “He’s earned it.”

She looked back upon Lester and smiled again.

“I’ll give another call when I need you,” she said happily. “You always pull through for me, Lessie.”

Lester tipped his hat, happily received a briefcase full of cash that one of the guards handed him, and then took his leave. His job was done for now.


A security guard undid Rebecca’s handcuffs, and the tall woman with the dark hair beckoned the young blonde to follow her further into the mansion.

Becca did not know where she was or who this woman was, but she was just glad that she was no longer being held hostage by that psycho that had just left.

“Follow me, dear,” ordered the tall woman named Eliza.

Becca followed her through the grand hall, that hall a shining example of opulence that one only saw in movies. The floor was all pristine white tiles, there were twin looping staircases rising to the higher floors, there was a grand piano down here with guest divans for relaxing, and there was even a small bar with its own bartender, the man dressed in a white shirt, tuxedo vest, and black slacks.

Becca felt as if she needed to say something, if only to break the ice, because this woman was like royalty to her anyway.

“Thank you for saving me,” she said quietly.

“Saving you?” said Eliza with a light and bubbly laugh. “Oh, my dear. You have no idea, do you?”

“Idea?” asked Becca. “Idea of what?”

The tall, pale woman in the sparkling red dressed grabbed Becca’s right arm with her left hand and yanked her forward toward a side door. The woman’s grip was like a steel vice, her physical strength on an insane level.

“Ow!” cried Becca. “OW!”

The tall woman threw open the door and dragged Becca down a flight of stone steps.

“What are you doing!” screeched Becca.

She was dragged against her will to stand before a large, dark wooden door carved with bat, wolf, spider, and snake motifs.

“Did you honestly think there was some mysterious organization that hunts vampires?” asked Eliza. “You can’t be so naï—Oh, disgusting…You have Ravina’s stink all over you…I’d say ‘stench,’ but that’s far too nice…It’s a stink…Ugh…That tart was a thorn in my side for far too long…Young people and their pretentious stupidity…Anyway…Anyway, let me ask you a question, Becca. Who do you think hires vampire hunters? Who could possibly want to get rid of an encroaching nest of them?”

“I don’t know,” said Becca. “I don’t even understand what you’re talking about!…Let go! You’re hurting me!”

The tall woman stared down at her and then smiled. Her eyes shone a bright red, and then her fangs dropped down, glistening white in the pale luminescence that lit the dark, descending hallway.

Becca’s heart nearly stopped at the sight of Eliza’s transformation, but then she pulled up her courage and spoke in her own defense. She was already used to the vampire transformation show, and she would not be intimidated by it now…Besides, her goal of becoming a vampire was once again within arm’s reach.

“You’re a vampire?” she asked in audible surprise. “I didn’t know…I…I would have come to you if I’d known…I wouldn’t have gone to Ravina…Now…Now wait.  We can make a deal…I…I can be your servant, you know. I can bring people to you. I can be your…your thrall…or you can make me a vampire, too…That’s what I really want anyway…I’ll be an excellent vampire…I’ll be loyal to you forever.”

The tall woman with raven black hair laughed and shook her head no. She stared down into Becca’s blue eyes, but there was no love in this woman’s own flashing red eyes, none at all, in fact. There was only a sadistic lust in those eyes, but it was not a lust for anything sexual…Becca was certain of that.

“Do you know what Lester and I have in common?” asked Eliza.

“Lester?” asked Becca. “Lester…Do you mean Red?”

“Oh, Lessie’s still using that name,” grinned the tall woman. “How quaint. I suppose it’s an homage to me…Yes, dear, I mean Red. Now answer my question. Do you know what Lester and I have in common?”

Becca could not think of a single thing that this woman, a vampiress at that, would have in common with a psycho—probably a serial killer—vampire hunter.

“No,” said Becca with a brisk shake of her head. “I…I don’t know.”

The tall lady in red grinned, her fangs still menacing and glistening beneath her glowing red eyes.

“I’ll say it slowly so that you understand, dear,” said Eliza.

She opened the dark wooden door before them, and Becca’s eyes widened in horror as her mind took in what was in the underground chamber within her field of vision.

“We both hate…young…pretty…girls,” finished the tall woman in red.

In the underground chamber were four separate young women, all around Becca’s age, all nude, all upon various torture tables or in torture devices.

The closest young lady was laid out on a table, and she had been shaved completely bald, bald all over, but that was not what was disturbing. This young woman had no limbs; they had been removed, fresh sutures at the stubs. Her nipples had been removed and the wounds sewn shut, and her lady parts were sewn shut, as were her lips and eyes. Worst of all, much worse, though, was the fact that this poor young woman was…she was…she was still alive.

Becca’s eyes glanced over the other three girls, but they were not in any better shape, all of them alive, all in a state of this…this horror.

“Ravina was a young and pretentious fool that needed to be dealt with,” said Eliza. “She actually thought she was going to stake a claim in my kingdom…my kingdom…Now you? You are nothing but a loose end, a blood bag I’ll feed on until I tire of you, just like these other young harlots, these thralls that Lester dragged in for me.”

Becca could not speak. She shook in place at the sight of this, her mind finally broken.

“He has a terrible penchant for mauling my prizes, but he brought you in intact,” said Eliza. “Now I get to remove and keep the best parts for myself, dear, and I will…Oh, I most certainly will…You see, I’ve been doing this for a very long time, so begging for mercy will not help you, little Becca…Welcome to my house…Welcome to the House of Báthory, my little morsel.”

Becca begged for mercy anyway as the ancient vampiress slowly relieved the young blonde of her clothing, one article at a time, the sadistic queen remarking with each removal how flawless and delicious Becca’s body and skin truly were.

Becca’s Night Out Copyright © 2022 Matthew L. Marlott

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