And with a little help from you, I can make them think that is exactly what I am doing. I will hardly have to hurt you at all. Oh, I see you notice I use the word hurt. To be honest, I will have to cut you enough so that I can blow the stream of your warm blood out into the hall. Splashing blood always creates a wonderful effect, especially when vampires are involved. While I do that, I want you to scream bloody murder. Can you do that?"
He nods.
I pinch him. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," he croaks. "I don't want to die, I have a wife and two kids."
"I know, and your brother-in-law is a lawyer. By the way, don't listen to a thing he tells you. He is like all lawyers--envious of those who do honest work for a living. You just keep writing your stories. If you want, you can even write one about me. But make me a blond--this red hair is store-bought."
"What's your name?" he asks, relaxing slightly.
I don't want him too relaxed. "I am Mrs. Satan." I scratch him on the inside of his right arm, tearing his flesh and drawing plenty of blood. "Start screaming, buddy."
Guard Three does as he's told. His performance is admirable--he believes half of it. "Oh God! Stop it! Save me. Shefs ripping my heart out!" Actually, he didn't have to get so specific, but I let it pass. While he cries to his fellow soldiers, I purse my lips and blow on the blood that trickles from his arm. I have quite the set of lungs. The blood splatters over the exterior of the wall, and onto the floor outside. I hear the men moaning in horror. This is worse than 'Nam, many think.
They haven't seen anything yet
"Now let out a real loud death scream," I tell Guard Three, "Trail off into silence. Then, I'll drop you behind the door where my friend is hiding. You might want to stay there when the shooting starts. I warn you ahead of time, I am going to have to kill many of your friends. When I am through, you may leave this building. Get out as fast as you can. Steal a truck if you have to. Things are going to get awfully hot here. Do you understand?"
"Yes. You're not going to kill me?"
"No. Not tonight. You can relax, after you do exactly what I say."
The guard lets out the death scream. I spray an especially wide shower of blood through the doorway. Then I drop the guy down beside Joel, who pats him on the back and tells him to relax. I hand Joel the man's weapon and order him to keep it handy. Several guards outside the door are crying. They have backed away, but not far enough to be safe. I reach out and grab another. He carries a high-powered machine gun, which I wedge between the door and frame. He smells of hamburger and fries. His food is probably not digesting well. I don't know this soldier, which doesn't bode well for him.
""You're going to die now," I tell his horrified face. "I am sorry it has to be this way."
I kill him slowly, painfully, so that his throat-tearing screams and red blood mingle to create an image so ghastly that many of the soldiers feel they are trapped in a nightmare from which they cannot awaken. When I am done, I throw what is left of his body into the hall. It is very messy--the terror in the air is as palpable as the hard metal door that can no longer be closed.
This last execution has disturbed me. If I am forced to kill, I prefer to do so efficiently and painlessly. I will not make another example--I don't have the stomach for it. It is time to leave the building, with Joel and General Havor in hand. To grab the machine gun the soldier brought in, I drop from my position on the ceiling and immediately retrieve it and open fire. The men outside the door stand frozen in place. They fall to their deaths like tenpins.
I kill eight of them before I step into the hall.
Arturo and General Havor are at the far end. They are a hundred feet away and backing up fast. Between us there are many soldiers. I cannot allow the big boss to leave the building without me. But the bloody examples I made of the first two men