Chapter 7: Three Categories of Vampires

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"I know."

Obie thought about the vampire's last words before she left the store.

She genuinely wanted to forget about last night and this morning like any other conflict she defied every other day. It was easier to creep through the cities to scavenge without having to worry about scarring events that a psychologist assume would have a continuous impact on her behavior.

But what the hell? How more messed up can she be?

That intelligent vampire was a warning. The vampire species were evolving. Their evolution was an upbringing, soon to terrorize the people left in the world. Their intelligence will give them the capability to control their hunger and plan ahead in hunting, rather than sprinting first. Their mindless behavior kept Obie on a good streak. Barely alive, but kind of good.

Though, maybe she was wrong. Not all vampires function the same.

There were three categories of vampires.

The vampires slash infected. The usual blood sucking villains who cannot face the sunlight nor pools of old blood in a closed space until it dries out. They had super strength, speed hearing, climb on walls, levitating and what not or whatever. Mindless. No humanity. Cannot speak; usually growls. The common category.

Second category was the stragglers as she liked to name them. The stragglers were walking skeletons with little skin on them; unable to trap, bite or kill a human unless that human was immobile and too caught up in fear to run. They were the true example of a stereotypical zombie from the movies. Obie had no idea why they were sickly. She just hoped they were dying out.

Last but certainly not the weakest were the mutants. She couldn't find any other name other than level 3 vampires, but that's pretty boring to write in the history books one day. The mutants were the only creatures imagined in nightmares after binge watching late night horror series; Goosebumps was not included. She first encountered the mutant three months ago.

Obie was on the train tracks. Yes, the worst place in the world to hide in, but Burrito was to blame. A bunch of vampires scared the poor possum out of her pocket into the train station. She should have realized the train station was a no go because the infected retreated from their attack, refusing to enter with her in the train station.

Their absence was an ant on a windshield to Obie. She was focused on her last living loved one in this world.

Right when Obie reached down to pick Burrito up on the train tracks, a roaring noise forced B to revert her little running spree up her leg. Never in any moment of her life Obie wished to be a rat; to inhabit within a small, rodent form and scurry into dark holes not even evil could reach through.

She lined her body on the wall.

The creature's breathing mimicked the wind's whistle during a hurricane, accompanied by exhalation coming from dying, old person on their death bed. Shamefully, Obie crossed her legs to keep the urination from escaping her internal body.

The mutant stepped into the dim train station's headlight; crawling in spider like fashion. The horrifying creature inched out sluggishly. Its red, white leaking skin shed piece by piece onto the train tracks. Its eight foot legs as thin as the width of a dinner spoon barely steadied the deformed body.

Its physique reminded Obie of a queen ant. His abdominal and pelvic regions inflated disgustingly large as its chest condensed, pulling into the ribs that pierced out of the skin. The monster's shoulder bones expanded way ahead of the most frightening part of the abomination.

Its face alone could scare her soul within the deepest depths of the ocean floor.

It was a male. The hard structure of its facial features gave it away. Or his dying dick hanging between its spider legs.

Regular vampires kept their regular human facial features, except the teeth, eyes and discolored skin. This thing appeared neither vampire or human.

Different points of his face was extended outwards. It was as if the top of his skull, cheek bones and chin came out of his skin, forming a four-point rhombus that was decorated over by red creased structures. You know. The muscles beneath the skin that were not meant to be exposed.

Obie held her mouth from throwing up just thinking about the memory.

One eye was stationed oddly in the middle of his forehead, while the second leaned almost into its nostrils and pushed forward every time it exhaled.

The image was so disturbing Burrito didn't make a peep.

Abruptly, all three of them heard a cry further into the tunnel. The mutant croaked, rotating its head and sprinted to the sound with its scrawny legs.

Here's her chance to get out. She thought at the time.

On the other hand, Obie's back and hands were paralyzed against the wall, because she was afraid. The thing can abandon his old food and chase her, probably succeeding in such a congested space. Before she can think about more possibilities, the thing did return.

Not alone.

Hanging from its stretched out mouth was a man. He was reaching in his 40's or late 50's. The man was shaking, throwing his fist against the monster's cheek while accomplishing nothing. She can tell from the line of drool falling from its mouth that the mutant was becoming more ravenous the longer the human settled on its tongue.

The human struck the mutant's eye, and it cried out in shock.

Her fellow human dropped to the ground and then wasted no time on escaping. His disappearance into the dark brought hope into Obie's paranoid state. She can hear the footsteps' echo distance further and further down the train track. The mutant was rolling its neck sporadically as it screeched like a mad animal in a cage.

This must be the right time to make her move.

She raised her back off the wall.

Obie thought this was great. Obie thought how two great things were witnessed. A human was escaping torture. Finally, the new threat had a weakness. Hitting its eyeball can induce spams to the extent it began hurting himself.

Just as her knee extended, the thing kept still.

Obie's heart pounded.

Suddenly, the mutant's mouth separated. The top lip stretched to his forehead as the bottom lip to the chest; exposing the hundreds of sharp fangs situated in circular rows to the back of his throat.

Its tongue shot out.

Her hand clasped around the mouth.

Its ant bottom was contracting and vibrating as the thick, bumpy tongue was pulled out the body piece by piece into the darkness. The slime from beneath the wet brown muscle was sinking into the rocks between the metal tracks.

"Ahh!"

She jumped in fright from the sound.

The tongue landed.

His throat kept pushing up, producing these gulping sounds as the tongue retreated back into she doesn't know the fuck where in the body.

The same man who inspired her a couple of minutes ago was pulled back into the terror. Different, however. The fight he had before disappeared. His normal colored eyes were glared over by a red sheen like blood was poured into his eyes and dabbed in by a napkin. His body, dragged against the ground, was dead and lifeless. The only thing moving was his lips which was deficient in sound.

Obie knew it was the tongue. It had to be. The tongue unwrapped itself from around the human's cranial. As it peeled, tiny holes spilled blood out of his forehead.

The mutant stretched its mouth and wrapped its teeth around the human's entire neck.

She couldn't stand to watch. Obie was a woman of independence and isolation. She avoided all life to avoid her own death. Though, standing idle and observing someone's life drain out of their body was a hard pill to swallow. It was part of the normality in the apocalyptic world. Yet, it hurts to see someone suffer and knowing one day, she may be in the same position as another survivor speculates over her death.

It stopped.

She didn't understand why it wasn't leaving; why continue to surround an empty plate food, she hates to compare.

The mutant began screaming.

All this was too much. It was just too much for her to handle. Before she was stuck in the train station by an unknown creature, her dead parents and friends chased Obie and Burrito into a funeral, where they hid in a coffin. Until, someone named Burrito began making noise. It was not a good day for B.

The mutant's skinny legs detached from the body one by one. The infected was rolling around on the ground as expected by something without its legs.

When it retreated on its stomach, long wings sprang out of its back. The sharp tip almost scratched Obie's neck.

The wings flapped, lifting the mutant in the air. With one last screech from the monster as it flew out the cave, Obie thought the world was in a whole lot trouble. Also, she had to find new pants.

"Shit." She drew the knife on her skin.

Obie withdrew from the memory back to the present.

There was no way the talking vampire can possibly be a mutant.

"Maybe we need to add another category for our new friend." She said to B.

Friend. She scoffed.

Her sarcasm took it too far.

Obie, subconsciously, caressed her forehead where the injury was.

"Everything will be fine." Obie sighed. "Right, B?"

Could be paranoia or truth, Obie had these tingling sensations on the same places of her injuries. She didn't want to think about it in depth. That's the reason she was paranoid in the first place and as a result, tricking her body into thinking something was wrong.

The sun's reflection off the window shield onto her face warned Obie.

Dark was coming.

Obie smeared her blood on the side of the Empire State Building.

She used her blood to buy them some time to get where they want to be. She spread her blood around different areas in the city to confuse her parents on her location. It works a lot. She only did it when she sensed the weather was going out of whack, because the blood would eventually wash away easing her worry of it attracting other infected beings.

The clouds gathered darkly in the skies.

Hopefully, by the approach of night, her blood will remain, sending her vampire parents on a wild goose chase and then, the rain would do its duties.

"Last one finished." She wrapped a cloth around her palm. "Time to go home, Burrito."

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