Day 299 – Case File 21822 – The Final Request – Short Story

I hate shit holes, but then again, I’ve never been one to enjoy a maze, although I’d say the was more like a stinking rat hole, than a maze. Five hours we were wading through that place, I can remember the first time I stepped into one of these hives, if you like that word, it’s what the braniacs call them, it was the smell that got me, ripped right up into my nose and scorched my brain, took me days to get the smell out of my hair and clothes. Now, I don’t even bother washing my clothes, I just bin them, and, do a full shave, gets rid of the smell in hours, not days.

Best place to start is three days ago when we got a call, some old timer’d been found in Caulfield Park, at first, joggers though he was a bum, when the a local P.D. came to move him on, they realised differently.

His throat’d been ripped open and  his body drained of all it’s blood, poor bastard, fucked up thing was, he had a fucking smile on his face.

Now, there’s a lot of things in this NEW world I hate, A LOT, but bloodsuckers, they’re the fucking bottom of the rung, shit feeders, mosquito, leeches, I can go on here, but they are the toe rags of the underworld, preying on the frail and innocent.

The security tapes from the park told us Clive Foster’s story, he sat down, waited for a little while before she came to meet him, our vamp that is, they obviously knew each other, a bit of digging into Foster’s past gave her a name, Gail Bennett, also know as Sofia Ridgemore, and once upon a time, Helena Foster, his sister, fucking bitch. They chat, obliviously about old times, and then she bites down on him, and feeds.

Okay, I should point out that this isn’t the movies, because I bet you’re thinking, aren’t vampires supposed to not been seen by cameras and other bollocks like that? Well it’s bullshit, they’re just like you and me, except for the fact they age slower, that’s about all really, oh yeah, and their body can’t create new blood cells, so they need to feed on us to get them, they have a vacuum like orifuce in their upper jaw that sucks the blood into their stream, pulling the oxygen from it, and replenishing theirs. If they don’t feed, they decay, loose their shit, and we get incidents like we did two months ago on main street, where a hive of these fuckers imploded into the local city streets and forty-seven innocents lost their lives, that was before we were able to contain the maggots.

That brings me to the second thing, killing the fuckers is easy, no need for a stake, fundamentally they are just humans, powerful, but, you can put them down like any, ordinary son-of-a-bitch, but, I like to take their head off, seems to work quicker, and makes me feel a whole lot better about it all.

Anyway, we tracked Bennett back to her hive using the city link feed, these sort of track and trace cases are fundamentally a hunt and kill situation, forth this month to be honest, last one went haywire, I was hoping this one went better, although the place, was deeper, more dug in than any hive I’d ever seen before, the fuckers have been here a long time.

When we finally made contact they were ready for us, it was a balls to the walls shit fest, there were at least thirty of the shitty fuckers down there, living the good life, we found bodies, hundreds of them, piled in a section of the hive, like a fucking trophy room.

They fought hard, but, when you’re fighting hand to hand, against shotguns and revolvers loaded with cop-killers, it’s futile, they soon tried to run. When I finally laid eyes on Bennett, she was about to sink her teeth into one of the rookies who came along for her first field-outing.

You should’ve seen the bitch freeze when I called out her name, not the shit she’d given herself, but I called out Helena, she looked up at me, shocked, and then ate three rounds into her forehead, dropped like a sack of shit, the rookie handed in her badge once we were topside.

Eighty-seven minutes later, we were rounding up the bodies, bagging and tagging them for the fuckers at HQ, they like to play with all the weird shit that we find out and about, what for? I don’t fucking care.

Anyway, I came across something I thought was a bit strange, so, I left it out of my official report, but, I think it’s worth mentioning here.

I found a picture on Helena, it was old, of her and Clive, they seemed happy, and a bit more, than brother and sister, not that you can tell a lot from a photo, but, I’ve been doing this job for a long time, and I can read people, and these two, they were dancing the dance, if you know what I mean. Reports topside showed Clive was dying anyway, stage four cancer, he had weeks if not days left in him, I guess, he went looking for Helena, in the hope that what she had, would cure him.

Strange thing was, looking back over the tape, a lot of things made sense after that, see, I don’t think Helena expected him to die the way he did, I think she was really trying to help him, to, you know, bring him over to her side of the world, to the darkness, where they could be together, or, maybe she just wanted to end his suffering, fucked if I know really.

But, I guess, in the end, she found out what the rest of us already fucking know, death, isn’t something you can run from.

Go here to read The Final Request.

Published by

Matthew Tonks

People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time and dream of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.

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