Outside Hell (37 page)

He’d almost cancelled the raid on the shack
and all future raids till the end of the year, only when he’d heard
that there was a vampire up at the shack that was godly in size,
and that Heir Volkerdauphine had believed that he was the same
vampire from the botched mission in Paris, he’d sent his men on the
raid regardless. He also knew that he shouldn’t have ever sent his
men there at the same time as the other vampires who were planning
to kill the godly sized vampire’s wife. It was a strategic error to
think that his men were invisible, and by it he’d opened them up to
a heightened chance of being caught, and also in turn he’d
compromised the location of the base too. Had he either cancelled
the raids giving them a must needed break, and in turn restored
their faith in him as their leader, or simply postponed it until
the following night none of this mess would have happened. It was
his eagerness to have revenge against the vampire for loosing his
men in Paris that had created the red mist in his mind. He’d lost
his cool and allowed it to cloud his judgment, which had then
stopped him realizing how dangerous it was to attack them at that
time.

Adolf also reasoned with himself that it was
obviously a whole different class of vampire that he was trying to
catch by going for the godly ones, and that over the years they’d
only kidnapped those without connections, the bums of the species
that wouldn’t be missed. He’d realized then that to chance catching
the godly sized vampires had so much more danger involved with it,
and obviously comes at a far steeper price. The vampire that’d his
misses killed in front of him must have had connections and they
were obviously hunting for him now and would stop at nothing until
he was returned. Either that or the outside of the shack was
guarded with sentries, and they’d followed him for revenge after
his soldiers had kidnapped the bikini vampires.

Adolf suddenly thought that if the godly
sized vampire had acquaintances looking for him, then maybe he
should just release him and in turn try do a deal with them; hoping
that afterwards the undead would go away. He’d reasoned that if he
could then even though it would be a ball ache relocating to
another hanger and ultimately because of it set them back years in
development, but at least they’d be alive and then they could live
to fight another day.

Only then he’d thought that would they
actually leave, or would they still attack for their brothers that
he’d killed over the years? Adolf highly doubted that they’d care
considering the ferociousness of the prisoners that his scientists
had mutilated and hacked their limbs off with old rusty saws. No
there’d be no deal struck with them, he’d felt sure of that. If
he’d told them that he had basements full of gold bullion, they’d
still attack and after killing them all, they’d loot the riches for
themselves. Then it crossed his mind that maybe they’d found out
Heir Volkerdauphine was telling him where the vampires were living
and in turn because of it demanded to know where the hanger was.
Then as a second past he’d even wondered if maybe Heir
Volkerdauphine had arranged the attack himself. Adolf knew he was
well past the time that he’d promised to release his mother. Maybe
all this was because of him and nothing to do with the godly sized
vampire having connections at all.

The German leader with the funny moustache
was furious that he hadn’t the answers and then as his rage mounted
and spread exponentially within him, the anger took control and
he’d shot two more of his control room staff. Then as the others
fled the room, he’d re-holstered his weapon and stormed off up the
metal stairs into his private quarters. Then after slamming the
door to his study, and pouring himself a stiff drink and
appreciating the burn as the noxious liquid flowed down his throat,
the leader of men took a seat behind his desk to think.

The first thing that had crossed his mind as
he’d rotated around on his red leather captain’s chair; was the
arrow in the chopper that had killed Heinrich. It had some strange
powers that had not only killed his only friend, but also made the
electrics to go haywire on the chopper. The forklift truck that
they’d used to pull it out after Heinrich had succumbed to its
lethal forces; had also developed strange problems. The engine
stopped and then smoke had poured out of the dash, with the lights
flashing wildly too.

Since Adolf’s studies of vampires had started
forty years previously and the hundreds of Ponerology books that
he’d read over the years, he’d never read anything about such
things. The arrow had to be cursed by the bowman that his pathetic
soldiers had spoken about in the woods. When they’d got back to the
base in the morning and after he’d lost two more choppers to
similar electrical failures, they were white with fear. They’d told
him that they’d seen a bowman with a magical shield that was with
an eight feet tall beast, resembling a Grizzly bear.

Adolf had laughed in response and wanted
nothing more than to kill them for lying to him, only when he’d
unlocked his Luger and was bringing it up to fire, he’d remembered
the cursed arrow and suddenly realized that they were telling him
the truth. The arrow had to have been fired by a bow, and then in
turn the man or thing that could wield such a macabre instrument of
death was probably an unusual looking bowman fellow too.

Then as Adolf thought into it some more, and
swiveled around on his chair looking up into the bottle that he’d
just poured himself a drink from, it came to him. He’d realized
that he’d two choices and neither of them involved handing over the
godly vampire that he’d had in the cells. He could either run
leaving his loyal soldiers outside to fight the fanged beasts, or
abandon that idea entirely and fight. Adolf was well aware that
he’d a back door to the hanger leading out through a deep long
tunnel to a chopper, but he didn’t like the idea of running for two
reasons.

The first reason was because he didn’t know
where this bowman dude was and flying anywhere was really not safe
considering all the choppers that he’d lost of recent.

Then there was the second reason, the voice
in his head. He’d suffered mental torment for many years and only
managed to escape it, when he’d moved into the place. He couldn’t
risk those voice of the old boy catching him again, and was sure
that if he’d left the sanctity of his lead lined hanger, that he’d
be floating around outside waiting for him. The voice of Raffious
that had consumed his mind through the war would find him again,
and then he’d be a prisoner of the evil bastard or worse, the old
boy would be so furious that he’d escaped his wrath that he’d kill
him instead. There was definitely no way that he would allow that
fucker in his mind again, and to run wasn’t in his resume either,
so he’d fight. He’d then reasoned that he’d got the outside of the
hanger heavily fortified and the bullets were all silver, so he
didn’t know what he was worrying about because he couldn’t possibly
loose anyway.

Adolf also realized that his error so far was
to wait until they were attacked, leaving the undead vampires to
swarm the place at their leisure. He was an aggressive military
beast and didn’t defend he attacked, storming into countries that
he wanted to takeover. That was the way he fought and even though
he’d lost the war, it hadn’t been his fault. The old boy had been
controlling his mind and making the decisions through most of it
for him, all he was through the war was Raffious’ lame ass puppet.
Then after leaping up from his office desk to pour himself another
stiff drink and leaving out the ice, a second had passed and as
he’d watched the liquid whilst licking his lips, suddenly the
grandfather clock to his left had chimed. Taking that as his cue,
the leader of men then craned his neck back and downed the harsh
liquid in one. Then taking a second to again appreciate the burn
he’d considered whether he should pour himself another, but as his
hand had reached for the bottle, he’d abandoned the idea and
smashed the glass in the open fire place and reaching for his desk
phone instead.

Then after he’d placed it to his ear for just
a second, the receiver on the other end hadn’t rung more than once
before it was snatched up, and the soldier with the phone some
inches away from his head then painfully listened to Adolf’s
slurred from whiskey screaming in his head. In response to his
orders he’d stamped his heels hard in the ice beneath himself, and
then said “yes sir” and the receiver went dead.

Outside in the square mile of icy tarmac, the
officer that was in charge of the battlefield and who’d just taken
the call; then turned around and screamed out the orders. A second
passed and then in response to their commanding officer, fifty
soldiers who’d just been watching the tree line suddenly charged
back inside the rock doorway instead.

The family of eagles that were looking down
on them from high above, and who’d spotted all the un-dead being’s
in the pine trees a while back whilst snuggling closer to protect
their young, then watched the same soldiers reappear beneath them,
only they were wheeling out 8cm Granatwerfer mortars, and preparing
to fire. The orders they’d been given were simple. Fire the mortars
deep into the snow covered pine trees at a range of four hundred
meters, and make sure that the whole forest was hit at that range
simultaneously. Then after they were sure of the complete
devastation, they were told to wind in the mortars to hit ten
meters in from that range, and then after devastating that area
too, then wind in a further ten meters and continue the process
until they’d destroyed a huge expanse of forest but stop before
they’d reached the traps. Adolf believed as the noxious liquid had
gone down his throat and frazzled his brain, that if the forest was
full of the un-dead waiting the next half an hour or so until
darkness fell, then by blowing up the tree line from back to front,
he’d force the vampires forwards into the traps that his soldiers
had built.

When they’d moved into the top secret
installation, the leader of men had massive trenches dug twenty
feet into the tree line that covered the entire length of the
forest. These pits or trenches were then filled with timber poles
that’d been shaped into deadly spears by old machetes, and to
conceal the entrances afterwards they were covered with thick
branches and leaves.

Then as another measure and in the middle of
the process he’d had silver laced netting put down in them,
connected to a trigger mechanism. When the vampire was impaled on
the spikes and because of it, the mechanism would trigger and then
a huge net would fly up from the soil floor beneath. The
bloodsucking fiend as he was then squirming in agony with massive
holes through him, would be hoisted up fifty feet into the air.

Also when they’d moved in to the hanger he’d
reasoned that if you’re in the business of catching vampires, then
to be prepared for the worst eventualities made sense.

Adolf had another surprise for them when the
mortar bombs went off. If they flew up like pigeons trying to
escape, or attack from the air, he’d installed gun turrets filled
with .50 cal solid silver bullets above the front door of the
place.

The leader of men as he’d necked back another
glass full of the blistering strong liquid, felt sure that if the
un-dead did attack him this night, then apart from the soldiers,
tanks, plus the MG40 machine gunners that were outside, he’d felt
sure they’d loose.

Meanwhile to the East of the entrance and as
the sun slipped down behind the mountain range saying farewell to
the family of eagles, promising that it would return to see their
young in the morning, the cursed arrow had hit Raffious. It had
gone straight through his back and burst out the left of his chest,
bringing with it copious amounts of blood and flesh.

Instantly the old boys face had turned
deathly white, and then as he’d looked down and seen the shaft
glistening up at him, a second later he’d coughed deeply and black
blood suddenly spurted vehemently up his throat and poured out over
the sides of his lips too.

A moment passed and then deep terror racked
his brains. Raffious knew he was in deep trouble. Then turning
around in the second that he had before the thing consumed him,
he’d scanned the tree line around the edge of the tarmac but
couldn’t see anything. Then as he’d looked again and studied the
tree line, far off into the distance he could see the silhouette of
a man running fast through it. He was keeping within the tree line
but moving at unbelievable speeds towards him. The old boy wondered
who it could be, and at the same moment suddenly his vision clouded
within and his mind was filled with strange thoughts. Raffious
blinked vehemently desperate to clear his mind, only when he’d come
around and then looked again, the runner was lost to the dense
trees that were circling towards him.

Raffious was now panicking
deeply for the very nature of experiencing death, and in response
he’d instantly cast a spell to save himself by thought alone. Of
recent his spells had vastly improved, and this was his newest way
to create them, although he still liked to swipe his finger in the
air ‘
when he wasn’t dying’
because he’d felt that it looked more befitting
for a sorcerer to do so. Then as the spell was cast and fearing
that the runner would be upon him within seconds, he’d turned
himself invisible before his attacker reached him. Raffious was
aware that there was a blood trail though and that the bowman would
know his arrows when he’d arrived, figuring his prey must be
invisible because he wouldn’t have moved an inch from the spot
where he’d fired it into him.