Read Online Vampire Dreams (Bloodscreams #1) by Robert W Walker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert W Walker
Ads: Link
and shouting as the thing bounced within the fog.
“What the hell ... is going on?”
He flashed his beam up into the tree, the light slicing through the unnatural fog, the edges of light turning the stuff into a gooey, dripping substance. It was like looking through an egg held up to the light. Inside the huge fog egg something dark and large moved, shook, and began to take form. The outline became larger and larger as the fog decreased, sucked up into the black Goliath, until it just hung there at the end of Jim's light, enormous and black, a large, six-foot-long inky seed pod, just dangling in the tree.
“God...” he moaned. It was finally happening, and it was happening to him and to Maude. Aliens ... aliens from another time and place, the fog some sort of protective covering, the seed pod the ship, and inside ... inside ?
Fascinated and fearful all at once, he went to stand beneath the looming black form in the tree over the car. The rear car door opened and Maude got out as if in a daze. She walked to the rear of the car and began climbing up the trunk and to the top, reaching out to touch the black conical shape there. She seemed as mesmerized by it as he, maybe more so.
“Maude, Maude,” he cautioned. “Don't touch it, Maude.”
She acted as though she could not hear.
“Maude!” he shouted, his voice echoing all the way down to the Spoon.
She reached it with her fingertips and said, “Take me.... I want you to have me ... I do, I do...”
The black torpedo opened up and Jim fell back with abhorrence at the power of the wind that hit him like a whale fluke. Two enormous wings unfurled to take Maude in, stabbing her about the shoulders with talons that jutted out, and lifting her large frame into their folds. Jim saw the fetid eyes of the creature and they locked on him with enthusiasm. From its mouth flowed the fog, escaping with it was some dribbling material that was neither saliva nor blood. It plopped onto the top of the car just as the fangs sank deep into Maude's flesh. The creature took another more powerful gripping hitch with those fangs on Maude's throat and began feeding on her.
Terrified, Jim, knew he could not possibly save Maude; he knew instinctively that this creature that traveled by cover of fog, perched upside down in trees, had more strength and power in its smallest part than he had in his entire body. Jim hadn't a weapon on him, nothing beyond the Ford.
He threw down the light and leapt into the driver's seat, turning the key, burning the ignition when it did come on, tearing away from the tree. Tears streaming down his face, he saw Maude's ankles in the rearview mirror in the distance where she hung, lifeless, in the tree beneath the creature.
“God, oh, God!” He shook as he cried and pleaded, hitting the gas full throttle.
He tore back the way he came, rampaging over the little bridge at the Spoon River, rattling the timbers. He screeched tires at the hairpin curve that he'd taken at twenty just hours before. He saw a sign for a main road in the distance and blubbering, crying, he saw that he was going to make it out alive. Maude ... there'd been no way he could've saved her, and had he tried, he'd be dead now, too. This way, at least, he could get help, return with weapons to the scene.
The road here skirted the Spoon, a deep ravine to his left leading to the silvery stream. He was doing eighty, eighty-five in a car that couldn't take it, a car with a four-cylinder engine.
A sign came up so fast he could hardly read it: andover--4 miles.
Then something smashed into the car overhead, denting the top inward. It made him weave, almost lose control. Another powerful pounding rent the top just above his head. It was the thing! Finished with Maude, it was now atop the car, after him. He hit ninety just as the driver's side window was smashed in and his throat was gripped in a powerful vice. The grip choked off his air and suddenly snapped his neck.
The car careened
“What the hell ... is going on?”
He flashed his beam up into the tree, the light slicing through the unnatural fog, the edges of light turning the stuff into a gooey, dripping substance. It was like looking through an egg held up to the light. Inside the huge fog egg something dark and large moved, shook, and began to take form. The outline became larger and larger as the fog decreased, sucked up into the black Goliath, until it just hung there at the end of Jim's light, enormous and black, a large, six-foot-long inky seed pod, just dangling in the tree.
“God...” he moaned. It was finally happening, and it was happening to him and to Maude. Aliens ... aliens from another time and place, the fog some sort of protective covering, the seed pod the ship, and inside ... inside ?
Fascinated and fearful all at once, he went to stand beneath the looming black form in the tree over the car. The rear car door opened and Maude got out as if in a daze. She walked to the rear of the car and began climbing up the trunk and to the top, reaching out to touch the black conical shape there. She seemed as mesmerized by it as he, maybe more so.
“Maude, Maude,” he cautioned. “Don't touch it, Maude.”
She acted as though she could not hear.
“Maude!” he shouted, his voice echoing all the way down to the Spoon.
She reached it with her fingertips and said, “Take me.... I want you to have me ... I do, I do...”
The black torpedo opened up and Jim fell back with abhorrence at the power of the wind that hit him like a whale fluke. Two enormous wings unfurled to take Maude in, stabbing her about the shoulders with talons that jutted out, and lifting her large frame into their folds. Jim saw the fetid eyes of the creature and they locked on him with enthusiasm. From its mouth flowed the fog, escaping with it was some dribbling material that was neither saliva nor blood. It plopped onto the top of the car just as the fangs sank deep into Maude's flesh. The creature took another more powerful gripping hitch with those fangs on Maude's throat and began feeding on her.
Terrified, Jim, knew he could not possibly save Maude; he knew instinctively that this creature that traveled by cover of fog, perched upside down in trees, had more strength and power in its smallest part than he had in his entire body. Jim hadn't a weapon on him, nothing beyond the Ford.
He threw down the light and leapt into the driver's seat, turning the key, burning the ignition when it did come on, tearing away from the tree. Tears streaming down his face, he saw Maude's ankles in the rearview mirror in the distance where she hung, lifeless, in the tree beneath the creature.
“God, oh, God!” He shook as he cried and pleaded, hitting the gas full throttle.
He tore back the way he came, rampaging over the little bridge at the Spoon River, rattling the timbers. He screeched tires at the hairpin curve that he'd taken at twenty just hours before. He saw a sign for a main road in the distance and blubbering, crying, he saw that he was going to make it out alive. Maude ... there'd been no way he could've saved her, and had he tried, he'd be dead now, too. This way, at least, he could get help, return with weapons to the scene.
The road here skirted the Spoon, a deep ravine to his left leading to the silvery stream. He was doing eighty, eighty-five in a car that couldn't take it, a car with a four-cylinder engine.
A sign came up so fast he could hardly read it: andover--4 miles.
Then something smashed into the car overhead, denting the top inward. It made him weave, almost lose control. Another powerful pounding rent the top just above his head. It was the thing! Finished with Maude, it was now atop the car, after him. He hit ninety just as the driver's side window was smashed in and his throat was gripped in a powerful vice. The grip choked off his air and suddenly snapped his neck.
The car careened
Similar Books
What's Really Hood!: A Collection of Tales From the Streets
Wahida Clark, Bonta, Victor Martin, Shawn Trump, Lashonda Teague
