Vamp Huntress Intro

As advertised, the soft black leather between her thighs made no noise as she moved. Crouching low, she ran a finger along the outside seam, feeling the bumps of the bullets that lined the length of her leg. Not very practical of her, but she had a few extra clips on her other side. The single bullets were just precautions in case the clips ran out, after she’d exhausted her stakes, holy water, cleaver and UV flashlight.

The roughly hewn brick at her back rubbed against her bare arms. She’d expected the place to be decrepit and cold, and while the brick was crumbling, it was warm—disconcertingly so. Her first boyfriend’s hands had felt like that, hot fine sandpaper. She tried to shake that thought away, knowing it was true no longer. Those hands were now squishy with rot and more than likely, maggot infested. No, she focused on that image. Thinking of those dead hands would strengthen her resolve, fuel her ire. The thought of his hands on her had always brought her shivering, but normally with want—need—this time the quakes wormed their way down into her soul, cooling her already frigid stone core.

Her face, a solid mask of vacant emotions, offered no quarter. She was here to kill, permanently. Exterminator. Pest control. Righteous one. She had many names. The one she liked the best though was murderer. Wanting to think of them as human, her revenge would be sweeter, aka more painful for the opposition. Oh yes, she hoped they had feelings, tender ones at that—for she would play on them until they were raw. Just as her emotions were once—before they disappeared all together. Mind on taking her pound of flesh, she slid further down the underground hall toward their sanctuary.

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