Suggested Audio Candy:
Gary Numan She’s Got Claws (Biokraft Mix)
Bill pulled up in the car park outside an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. As his tires ground to a halt on the tarmac and he prepared to go inside, he listened out for any discernible movements coming from the trunk. It had been largely silent the entire journey, short of some random scuffling and any audio had long since subsided. As he turned the keys off in the ignition, a recognizable figure made his way out from inside the building. It was Tony, a good friend of his since they’d served together in the force, Tony had been ousted on account of his murky nocturnal pursuits but the two men had remained in touch. There were few others he trusted so completely and fewer still who he would rely on in a fix like this. What he was about to do was more than a little unorthodox but these bitches had slaughtered Eddie and he was prepared to forget his police training and take matters into his own hands this time. He unwound his driver-side window to greet his buddy.
“It’s done. They’re in the trunk” he informed his good friend. “We’re going ahead as planned then?” Tony replied. “Yes, we most certainly are. I’m going to go get set up inside…” he tossed him his keys “…bring them in and we’ll get cracking. Right now I need to take a dump, my IBS is acting up chronic tonight. I may be a while so be sure to make our guests at home”. He exited the vehicle and made his way to the interior while Tony fumbled around the warden-sized chain for the correct key to release the trunk. He made his way to the rear and prepared to open but, just at that moment his cell rang. “Fuck’s sake” he cursed and answered the call. “Yes”. It was his wife checking where the hell he had gotten to. He had a tendency to disappear for long periods and she had been busting his balls about it incessantly for months now.
“I told you, I’ll be home when I’m home”. He heard shuffling coming from inside so placed his ear on the trunk to discern what it was while taking it in the other ear from his embittered spouse. “Yes, I fed Trixie. No I haven’t been drinking. I don’t know how long it will take. Couple of hours tops”. He rolled his eyes as she was playing the same song she always did. “It’s just business. Nothing you need to worry about”. He instantly regretted his comment as it just seemed to anger her more. “Look, I can’t talk right now. You got me at a bad time. Yes, I’ll grab some milk. No, not pasteurized. Honey, we’ve been getting the same kind for years. I’m not dense you know. I’m fully aware you aren’t either and that’s not what I said”. Tony pondered what he had done that was so God-awful that he had ended up with such a fishwife. Nag, nag, fucking nag. She was relentless.
“Look, I’ll not be long I promise. Just go to bed, I won’t wake you…” he remained civil as this was neither the time or place to get into a full-blown domestic and there were more pressing matters at hand. “Okay…okay…love you”. She had already hung up and he screamed silently out of pure exasperation before returning his attentions to the trunk. “Peek a boo bitches…” he introduced himself with the hood still down and tapped his tazer against the chrome before continuing “…y’all are going to enjoy what we have planned here. I assure you in advance that we are nothing if not hospitable. I’m sure you will just love your short stay with us”. He could hear something garbled so listened in closely. “Please let us out. We can’t breathe in here. Please”. It was Delilah who appeared beside herself and had begun whimpering, one arm badly broken and in noticeable discomfort.
“Oh I’m sorry. How selfish of me to be such a thoughtless host. I’m guessing you want to stretch those gangly-assed legs”. “We’ll do anything. Please get us out of here” was the muttered response. “Well slap my thigh and call me Eric. That doesn’t sound so unreasonable now does it?” He chuckled to himself, knowing that in ten minutes time they’d be sobbing to be back in the trunk. He had laid on quite the spread for them while Bill had been out snagging them and there was all sorts of medieval weaponry strewn about inside, all intended to teach them a lesson they’d want to forget for the rest of their short slutty lives. He turned the key in the lock and the trunk flew open with inhuman force, catching him unaware and knocking most of his front teeth straight from his face as he fell back to the gravel concussed.
Inside were the three girls, only Candy was looking decidedly the worse for wear. Her throat had been ripped out and she had been messily disemboweled whilst in transit by Delilah and Eloise who had turned, freed themselves from their shackles and made her last few moments on life absolutely mortifying. This had all been because of her actions and her demise was more than justified. Of course, given the pair were now fully fledged lycanthrope, things had been mighty tight inside but they had bided their time, waiting for the precise moment to strike. Both climbed out, dense shaggy hair populating their almost indistinguishable faces and grue-sopping talons clenched by their sides. Payback was about to be two bitches and this low-life scum was about to learn the true meaning of FUBAR.
They loomed over the spluttering Tony who was frantically feeling his jagged upper gums in sheer horror. He’d never had so much as a filling, just that one crown from when he was gun butted as a teenager but other than that he was mighty proud of his Gary Busey-esque front rack of pearls. Not any longer. Things were just about to get a whole lot worse for him too as the two whorewolves congregated, hanging over him with incisors dripping fresh cruor and their thirst for bloodletting now in full season. He glanced around for his tazer rod but it had fallen at least ten yards back and he was now toothless in more ways than just one. “Stay away from me you hairy whores” he shuffled back, trying to edge away but they were on him in a split second and dragged him by his hair to the bushes to commence their retribution.
“It’s whorewolves actually you redneck pleb” Delilah snapped as she lifted him off his feet and suspended him against a tree. Many things were racing through Tony’s mind and none of them were whether or not he had in fact fed Trixie. He was more concerned by the fact that not only were these two werewomen fully transformed and looking mighty gnarled, but they were able to vocalize their disdain. “Whaddaya fancy doing to him sugar tits?” was Eloise’s interjection to which her friend simply grinned wide. This afforded him the undesirable vista of her razor-sharp biters which were gnashing excitedly and ready to feed. “Listen, it wasn’t…” his sentence was interrupted by a grimace as Delilah strengthened her choke hold “…my idea. I’m just a grunt. A nobody. I won’t say anything to anyone. Hell, my penis is tiny, like a lowly stack of poker chips…and…and I have chronic body odor. You should sniff my pits in the summer. It’d turn your hair white”.
What a sniveling little turd. What made him think that, by sharing his embarrassing bodily secrets and functions with the pair, they would go easy on his ass? He had however given them no end of amusement. Eloise unzipped his pants as Delilah held him in place. She pulled them open and, needless to say, he hadn’t lied about his non-girth. “Poker chips huh? Well it looks like you’re all in for the flop” she taunted before sinking her teeth into his member and wrestling it free from its root. “Save some for me” Delilah requested but her friend’s response was to gulp it down before remarking “You are kidding me right?” “Els, you really are a slag, you know that?”
Tony attempted to gargle a scream but there was too much force against his larynx to muster more than a faint whistle. Delilah could end it all for him with a little focused pressure but had no intention of giving him an easy route out. She knew they had to work fast as he would likely bleed out within minutes such was the severity of his genital mutilation. Eloise scratched her talons softly against his mid torso, leaving a mass of reddened trails before rising back up to his petrified face and commencing to gouge out his left eye. She made short and messy work of dislodging his peeper, leaving optical strands flailing from the trench she fashioned. She placed it in between her teeth like a fleshy bon-bon and locked her jaws, bursting it instantly and leaving a trail of goo to dribble down her chin.
“Save some for me. I’m wasting away here” Delilah was feeling particularly gluttonous and craved her ration so Ellie assumed her position, keeping him hoisted off the ground while her friend rooted around for goodies. She began tearing strips from his chest and stuffing them in her mouth with an absolute lack of table manners. Occasionally she would exhale or mutter something but it was hard for Eloise to discern as her mouth was stuffed to brimming with layers of the man’s freshly peeled pelt. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” she observed, to which the response was a variety of gobbles and guzzles. She already had her answer.
It took several minutes to strip him entirely of his epidermis and, to Tony’s credit, he had been quite the little trooper. Eventually his last few spluttered breaths had ceased and, at this point, they focused on any final noshing and slurped any remaining gristle from his marrow just to fill their boots as it had been far too lean a spell leading up to their current buffet. Eloise couldn’t help but be impressed by how her friend’s organic instinct had manifested the past few days. Less than a week ago she blanked out any recollections of her nocturnal activities but this wouldn’t be the case now. By morning, she would have an opaque mental picture to draw from and it pleased Ellie to see her growing so much stronger with every feed.
“You’re a natural D” she proclaimed. “I feel invigorated Els. It’s getting to be that I can’t remember much of life before getting bitten. He tasted good”. “Meh. Personally I found him a little stringy and tasteless. Plus, did you see what he was packing?” “Yeah, I’d say you did his wife a favor there you know. Now then, about our friend in there”. She gestured towards the warehouse where Bill was currently sinking his last few battleships. His bowel disorder caused him noo end of discomfort when passing stools but things were about to get remarkably more white-knuckled for him as the whorewolves strode away from the bloodless remains of their prey and towards their next meal ticket, under the garish glow of the full moon.
Sinners can’t be choosers,
Keeper of the Crimson Quill
Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2014