ACADEMY OF THE UNDEAD; BOOK TWO Stand Together ... Or Fall Together
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The Unexpected (Unwelcome) Reunion

Taylee squinted, not because of a blinding light, but because of the throb in her head. Light was available for her, although the light seemed dull, flickering and inconsistent. Wincing, she guessed that the light was near her feet, and she raised her head and peered down, and she saw two candles burning by the end of the table.

Taylee grimaced as a negative thought rushed into her mind; I’m on a table …

A table indeed. She was lying down, and she was uncomfortable. She was just about to raise her head again, when a voice said calmly, “Well, well, well vampire, we meet again.”

A man walked into her line of vision, and Taylee looked at him, not recognising him. She had stepped on a few toes over the journey, and she had bitten the fuck out of a gallery of bad guys, although this imposing figure before her didn’t ring any bells.

Taylee swung her head to the right, saw one cuff of the handcuff snapped around her wrist, the other cuff clipped on to a sturdy metal clip. Her left wrist the same, very little movement available for her, and she didn’t even have to look down to understand that her ankles were in the same predicament.

“Who the fuck are-” she began bellowing, until she became aware of the restraint around her jaw. A muzzle. She tensed, Are you fucking kidding me? Muzzled, chained, and quite obviously in deep shit.

She glanced to her left again, and the more thorough investigation helped her understand that a needle was dug into the upturned, underside of her forearm, and lines of black tape were wrapped around her forearm to keep the needle fastened. The needle ran into a tube, and the tube was attached to a bag, the clear bag already an eighth filled with a deep red liquid.

She thrashed her left arm around, trying to shake the needle out, although her wrist was so tightly secured, that it barely moved.

“Yes vampire, thrash around, please, because your exertion will only hasten the blood flow.”

Knowing that he was right, Taylee tried to relax, although the fact that she was handcuffed to a table placed her attempted relaxation in the really-fucking-anxious stable.

“Who, who are you?” she blurted.

“Me?” Stanley smiled, “I’m your killer. I am the person who is going to kill you.”

Taylee snorted, then lifted her head up as far as she was able, and she saw everything, her whole body on display. Her naked body. She let her head fall back, and she closed her eyes in frustration.

Stanley noted her actions, then said, “Yes, I apologise for removing your garments, although I have to be honest …” he ran a finger up her right thigh, over her ribcage, fondled her right breast, then tickled his fingers under the flap of the muzzle as he said, “You are a fine specimen, and I get pleasure when I look at you in all your naked glory.”

Very quickly, Taylee understood that this was her end. She had been kidnapped by someone she didn’t recognise, and that someone had securely fastened her to a table. She had no idea where she was, but maybe it didn’t matter, because the prick had arrogantly stated that I am the person who is going to kill you … so yeah, get ready to jump on board the White Winged Stallion and hopefully be transported to the Kingdom of Mephistopheles. Taylee thought glumly, Hey Irish, Toff, it looks like I might be seeing you guys soon … although if someone was going to end her, she wanted to know who the asshole was. Glaring at him, she asked, “It sounds like you know who I am, but who the fuck are you?”

Stanley smirked, then replied, “Take a look around, I mean you’ve been here before, so look around and let the memories filter back in.”

He caressed her right breast, and she bucked at his touch, although she settled immediately as she saw the drips becoming quicker because of her movements. She grimaced and endured the massage, the asshole toying with her nipple, then his hand running up the inside of her right thigh. She cocked her head to both sides, nothing familiar in the dull light, then she saw it; a cage.

“Fuck.” she muttered. You’ve been here before …

Taylee didn’t need any more clues, she knew exactly where she was. If somebody had of asked her, Do you know how many people you’ve killed? She would have replied, ‘Yes, I do.’ Every single one of her victims were in her permanent-memory-file, and maybe that wasn’t so surprising, because before exterminating them, she would learn everything she could about them. Who they were, what they did for a job, what they did every night, and importantly, how many lives they had destroyed. Taylee had made it her speciality to take out the trash, exterminate murderers and rapists, get rid of the Really Bad Guys; and all of her victims had been guys, the really bad guys, except for one. One who lived in a mansion, one who appeared to have a perfect life, although the one who seemingly had a perfect life, also had a cage in her basement. A young woman, a stunning looking young woman who turned out to be one of the really bad guys. Taylee had thoroughly researched her intended victim, and she knew that she came from Eastern Europe and had settled in the Stanley mansion at the age of fourteen. She had researched him as well, Clinton Stanley, a multi-millionaire through inheritance before he was out of his teens, and he had used the money wisely and built up an imposing financial empire. Taylee first became suspicious of Iveta in 1991, followed her when time allowed, and mysterious disappearances in the Stanley mansion continued to mount up. A prostitute was brought to the mansion in late 1994, and the prostitute was never seen again. Another young girl was escorted to the mansion in early 1995, and the girl had never been seen since. Taylee began focussing all her efforts on the couple, paying attention to what He did. The young woman rarely left the house, so she needed to know when the man wasn’t there at night-time, so she could strike. In her relentless tracking of the man, the Tuesday night stood out. The man played cards at another very wealthy man’s house every Tuesday night. At one stage in her tracking of the victim, she thought about anonymously ringing the police and saying, ‘Check this house, check the basement.’ But no, people of power and influence normally associated with other people of power and influence, so it would be up to her to check the basement. Taylee even remembered the date she killed the woman, had a rough idea of the time, give or take half an hour, and she remembered the woman, would never forget the woman.

With most victims, after Taylee had overpowered them, and the victim saw the death-by-fangs coming towards them, they screamed, shrieked, begged or pleaded, but Iveta Stanley had laughed, the laugh surprised yet jovial. With the woman under her control, Taylee had asked aggressively, ‘How many people have you killed?’ The woman had stopped struggling by this time, and she replied in her thick Eastern European accent, ‘Thirteen, thirteen, one-three, thirteen, and I will kill more, because I am the nightmare!’

As Taylee had sunk her fangs deep into her jugular, the woman began thrashing around as she screamed, ‘I, I am the nightmare, I will always be the nightma-mar-mare-uhhh, arhhh …’ Taylee gnawed on her throat before the woman could complete her sentence, and out of control, Taylee began ripping her neck to pieces, until she heard a startled gasp. With blood dripping from the corners of her mouth, Taylee turned and saw the man gawking at her. She had a final vicious chew on her victim’s neck, then she flew off the table. In fear for his life, the man had scampered across to a small cell and slammed the door closed, and Taylee enraged, being a beast, being death, rattled the bars of the cage, trying to shake it free, then as she realised that he was not hers on this dark night, she hissed at him and then fled.

And now … they meet again.

The man’s physical appearance had yielded to the ageing process, although it had to be him, because a prison cell sat innocently in his basement.

“Clinton Stanley.” Taylee muttered.

“Yes, Clinton Stanley, former banker, now vampire hunter.”

“Yeah, how about Clinton Stanley, former banker, now the Prince of Assholes.” Taylee snorted.

“I think I prefer Vampire Hunter.” he replied wryly. Stanley turned on a torch and focussed it on the south wall, a collection of jawbones hanging in a neat line like trophies. “Six of them,” he said smugly, “And yours will be the seventh.”

He strolled over to the south wall and shone the torch on each jawbone as he said, “I had the decency to record the vampire’s names on the plague, even the date of their death, so that someone would remember them, and ohhh, by the way, the someone who remembers them is me.” Stanley tapped a vacant spot in the middle of the collection and said, “I shuffled them around so that I could save this spot for you, right in the very middle.” He gazed at the jawbones and said with a hint of annoyance, “I haven’t figured out how to slice the jawbone out while the fangs are still out, but I’m hoping that I’ll make you angry enough so that your fangs will be out for the whole of the limited time you have left on the planet.”

Taylee understood that one day in the very near future, her jawbone would sit in the collection, and she assumed that while she was still breathing, her life wouldn’t be very pleasant. She was scared, scared of finality, although this prick didn’t need to know that. Gazing around the room, she asked mockingly, “So your trophies are up, but I can’t see any trophies of your wife’s victims.”

“Hmmm, we do have trophies of her victims, although they aren’t physical trophies, they are the spine-tingling memories of the events.”

“Yeah, you are a sick fuck!” Taylee snorted.

Stanley strolled back over and stood by her side as he said, “Coming from a vampire, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Well here I am fucker, so do your worst.”

“Yes, thank-you for the invitation, and to you, I will do my worst, eventually. I have received expert advice that tells me that if I drain your blood out at this current rate, you will be dead in three days, and my expert told me that the final day should be agonising for you, every organ, every muscle, every part of your physical being experiencing an unspeakable agony, and I thought, yes, I do like the sound of that.” Stanley shone the torch on one of the jawbones and said, “Bryce Downie, a little nomad vampire who was such an easy capture. But I liked him because he answered a question that I had been pondering. Would you like to know what the question was?”

“Hey fuckwit, I’m already zoning out.” Taylee shot back.

“Hmmm, you are a feisty little creature, aren’t you; but maybe I’ll tell you anyway. So yes, I wondered how long it would take for a vampire to die if they were exposed to the sun, and I also wondered if the vampire would suffer, and Mr Downie answered both of those questions for me. Do you want to know how long it takes?”

“I get the feeling that you’re going to tell me.” Taylee replied sarcastically.

“I laid him mid-morning, staked him into the ground, and the temperature was a very pleasant mid-seventies, although Mr Downie didn’t seem to appreciate the pleasant morning. By midday, the temperature had snuck into the eighties, and I got the impression that Mr Downie wasn’t one who enjoyed sunbathing. I’m pleased that I had the common sense to gag him, because the muffled screams of pain were loud enough, and by early afternoon, the sun was right over him, and his eyes began to bleed. A smell wafted into the air as well, the smell like roasted flesh, and I was surprised when his skin began blackening and blistering, and streams of smoke started rising into the air.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Okay, I get it, you’re a big bad asshole, but save the chatter pal, because you don’t scare me.”

“Ohhh dear, that is a blow to my ego, so let me think, how do I scare the vicious vampire who killed my wife?”

Taylee glared at him and snapped, “This gal ain’t for scaring pal!”

“Okay, although if my wife was here and she saw you helpless and vulnerable like you are now, she would approach you with a dark twinkle in her eye, and she would do things to you, things that hurt you, and she would enjoy watching you scream in pain.”

“Yeah, memory check asshole, I sent that sick fuck to meet her maker.”

“Yes, I remember that well, I mean I was here, I saw you kill her and Iveta did meet her maker, then not long after, she met her Master.”

Taylee snorted and said, “If there is a Hell, that bitch will be burning right now.”

“No, actually,” Stanley began smugly, “She’s upstairs.”

Taylee said mockingly, “Uhh uhh ass-hole, Upstairs is supposedly for those of pure heart and good intentions, and your Hungarian bitch wouldn’t get a ticket to Heaven even if they were giving them away.”

Stanley waited until she focussed on him, then he said calmly, “No, I meant upstairs … in this house.”

“Yeah, what, you embalmed her something, another trophy for your wall?”

“No, I didn’t embalm her, because I know she wouldn’t like it,” he began, “Besides, I don’t like to upset her, because she’s so much stronger than me these days.”

Taylee glared at him, trying to read his eyes, disappointed that the only thing that she could detect was dark excitement. “Anyway, fuck off, you’re annoying me.” Taylee huffed.

“Okay, I’ll leave you soon, although I did want to witness the reunion.”

Taylee tensed as a few of his statements lingered in her mind … so much stronger than me, THESE DAYS … I did want to witness the REUNION.

Clinton Stanley was now supposedly a vampire hunter, although the monster that his wife had been could not possibly be upstairs in this house, because Taylee remembered ripping her neck to pieces.

“It cost me a million dollars,” Stanley said casually, “The best money I’ve ever spent, and now Iveta is everything I want in a woman, and more.”

Piecing it together quickly, Taylee closed her eyes and sighed, then said quietly, “The Laveau Voodoos.”

“Ohhh, you know of them?”

“Obviously.”

“So you know Devil and Chester?”

“I’ve heard of them.”

“They offer a very unusual service,” Stanley began calmly, “And they are very good.”

Taylee understood that the final phase of her existence wasn’t going to be pleasant, so she elected to stay silent.

“Even her neck, I mean you shredded her neck, but when I look at her neck now, you can’t even tell.”

Taylee remembered looking into the woman’s eyes before she shredded her neck, and the woman’s eyes were blazing as she screamed, I am the nightmare …

“Well aren’t you just an outstanding citizen Mister Asshole, resurrecting a monster who preyed on defenceless young women.” Taylee spat out.

“Hmmm, no, I’m not an outstanding citizen, but I am a vengeful one.”

Taylee’s mind wandered, and she asked, “Who gave me up?”

Stanley thought about it, then replied, “Someone who doesn’t like you.”

“Great, thanks pal” Taylee huffed, “That’s narrowed it down to the thousands.”

“Ohhh, so the naked, chained, muzzled vampire wasn’t popular?” Stanley asked mockingly.

“No, not amongst the evil and depraved.”

“Okay, well the good news for you, or maybe it’s bad news, but the news for you is that you will be spending your last three days amongst the evil and depraved.”

Strangely, Taylee thought about what could have been. In this windowless, candle-lit basement, she had no idea whether it was night or day, but if it was night, she had planned to jump all over Scarlett with reckless abandon. Scarlett would usually shy away under the assault, although Taylee knew that the platinum blonde loved being attacked so vigorously. But no; no rubbing the platinum blonde hair into her face as two vampires moved Heaven and Earth in her apartment, just this, the end of her, the end of her days. Three days by the sound of it.

“So vampire, let me introduce you to our special guest on this night, or should I say, re-introduce you.”

Taylee was facing the back wall, and she heard a door squeak open, then the sound of high heels on the concrete floor, the steps rhythmic and unhurried. Taylee sniffed the air, the dank odour of the basement replaced by a pleasant smell, perfume or deodorant; the clicking footsteps getting closer, until a figure came into her line of vision. Taylee sucked her bottom lip as she looked at the figure towering above her.

Iveta Stanley.

“Fuck me.” Taylee blew out in frustration.

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