The women’s minds went blank in a split second.
They all crumpled to the ground, a huge wave of fear crashing over them.
All they could do was beg for mercy.
Downstairs, the vampires were growling non-stop.
They were super restless, lured by the scent of flesh, mouths gaping wide, arms flailing, waiting for another feeding frenzy.
In the thick of the vampire mob, Billy Jean wiped the blood that had just splattered on her face.
Her eyes, with a faint red glimmer, stared icily at Scarface.
What a lowlife.
After losing his mojo, he’d gone even more off the rails, torturing and killing women to satisfy his sick cravings.
When the apocalypse hit, all kinds of bases popped up, and survivors grouped together to fight the vampires.
Billy Jean had teamed up with Scarface and some others.
He’d muscled his way to the top, calling himself the captain, running roughshod over everyone.
He even had his eye on her.
One night, he barged into her room.
The teammates just looked the other way, giving him the green light for his beastly act.
One even came to shut the door, covering for him like it was no big deal.
Human nature at its ugliest.
So she played along, faking surrender and being all sweet.
When she had him eating out of her hand, she grabbed the wine bottle on the table and smashed it right over his head.
After knocking him out cold, Billy Jean didn’t let up.
She kept whacking his head with the bottle until he hit the deck, blood pooling all around.
Only then did she stop, gasping for air.
When she left, she accidentally stepped on his crotch and, oops, ground down hard.
With a team that rotten, she couldn’t stick around.
Before splitting, she left them a little “surprise”.
Watching the place go up in flames, listening to the screams from inside, she sashayed away.
She just didn’t expect Scarface to still be kicking.
It’s like they say: only the good die young.
“Why are you just standing there? Chuck ’em all down!”
Scarface bellowed.
The henchmen hustled to grab the women.
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“Ah… Help!”
“I don’t want to, let me go.”
“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me…”
The women fought like crazy.
They wailed and begged, praying these goons would let them off the hook.
But they were up against a bunch of animals.
Mercy?
Not in their vocabulary.
The women were tossed down one by one, ripped to shreds by the ravenous vampires below.
It was a living nightmare.
The vampires’ party, the women’s screams, and Scarface’s demented laughter made the night even wilder.
All of a sudden, Scarface’s laughter died.
His eyes, blazing red with rage, locked onto the woman standing out from the vampire horde.
It was her.
Hatred boiled up in Scarface’s eyes.
If it weren’t for this witch, he wouldn’t be shooting blanks.
There wasn’t a day he didn’t dream of tearing her limb from limb.
No wonder he’d scoured every survivor camp in Ri-city and came up empty-handed.
Hahaha!
She wouldn’t bow to him.
He thought she had some superpowers.
Turns out, she was just a vampire.
Just a dame.
Instead of being his plaything, she had to be a troublemaker.
She deserved to be a vampire.
A twisted smile spread across Scarface’s face.
Suddenly, Scarface shivered.
He saw Billy Jean flash a bone-chilling grin at him.
It sent a shiver down his spine.
Only then did he notice how out of place Billy Jean was among the vampires.
All the other vampires were growling and chomping on body parts, but she was just standing there, still as a statue, her cloudy eyes boring into him.
She’d been watching him.
Did she remember him?
Scarface’s face turned ashen.
This thought was nuts.
She was a vampire.
How could she have a clue?
A malicious glint flickered in Scarface’s eyes.
Conscious or not, vampire or not, she was toast.
“You lot, go nab that vampire.”
The henchmen looked where Scarface was pointing.
They spotted the oddball vampire right away.
Their eyes bugged out.
It was the first time they’d seen such a freaky vampire.
If it weren’t for her ashen complexion and milky eyes, they’d have sworn the calm figure was human.
“Grab her, pronto!”
Scarface barked impatiently.
Billy Jean’s stare was giving him the heebie-jeebies.
The henchmen huddled up to hash it out.
Going downstairs to snatch Billy Jean?
No way.
It was a sea of vampires down there.
That’d be suicide.
“I got it!”
One of the henchmen slapped his thigh.
He fished out a rope from who-knows-where, tied a noose, gave it a few whirls, and flung it at Billy Jean.
Missed.
The henchmen didn’t quit, kept chucking. But again and again, they couldn’t lasso her.
“Damn it, you go play ring toss like this, you’ll go broke before you snag anything.”
One of them griped.
“One more try. I don’t believe it.”
The henchmen cranked his arm and let it fly.
The next second, he whooped.
“I got her, I got her!”
The complainer frowned and mumbled,
“Did I just see that vampire sidestep before getting roped? Must be seeing things.”
Billy Jean looked at the rope around her, a glimmer of bloodlust in her eyes.
“Reel her up, quick!”
Scarface was practically jumping for joy.
This time, he was set on carving her up and scattering her ashes.
Only then could he bury the hatchet in his heart.
The henchmen all heaved and hauled Billy Jean up with the rope.
Scarface eyed Billy Jean, looking like a walking corpse, and sneered.
“Fetch me a sharp knife. I’m gonna slice this bitch up, piece by piece.”
No sooner had he said that than Billy Jean cracked a strange smile.
Before Scarface could blink, the rope snapped, and she lunged at him.
Scarface’s face drained of color.
He snatched a henchman and used him as a human shield.
The henchman didn’t have time to react and got bitten on the neck by Billy Jean.
Blood spurted like a geyser.
“Aah…”
The screams ricocheted around the bar.
Scarface watched Billy Jean turn into a wild thing and backed away, trembling.
The other henchmen saw their buddy get bitten and froze, legs turning to jelly.
“Help… me, help… help me.”
The henchman reached out, desperate for help, but no one budged.
Billy Jean’s eyes glowed crimson.
She slurped twice and then spat it out in disgust.
It tasted like crap compared to Michael Joke’s.
So she’d share it with the vampires downstairs.
Let these guys taste the horror of being ripped apart.
Billy Jean chucked the dying henchman down.
The henchman’s eyes popped wide.
His pupils were filled with terror, and a piercing scream tore out.
Then, countless sharp claws ripped through his clothes and flesh.
“Rip…”
The sound of fabric shredding was deafening.
Along with the clothes, the skin and muscle were torn.
Billy Jean’s eyes, cold as ice, zeroed in on Scarface, as if to say, “You’re next.”
Scarface’s hair stood on end and he screeched,
“Quick, you lot, off her head!”