Michael Finn could feel his flesh getting hotter with every
passing second. All he wanted was some goddamn shelter from the sunlight. He
dashed through the forest at a frenetic pace, jumping over logs and slashing
thick foliage out of his way with his razor-sharp claws. A small cave, a hollow
log, some dense trees, any one of those things would have been nice to hide out
in until daylight passed. His mind raced as fast as his powerful legs, so much
so that he almost passed by his one shot at shelter.
He couldn’t see it well in the dim light, but it was a stone
building with large double doors and stained glass windows. Without thinking
clearly, Michael burst through the double doors with his shoulder and shut them
behind him. In the darkness of the church, he was safe. He knelt down and
breathed huge sighs of relief while allowing the sweat on his skin to dry up.
He stripped off his black leather jacket and laid back first against the cold
stones floor. It felt so good against his pale skin. Even his sweaty hair felt
like heaven against the cool stones.
Several flames burst to life and startled Michael enough to
leap to his feet in a single bound. Those flames were merely there to light the
torches mounted on the side walls. Not only did those torches reveal the wooden
pews on either side, but also the devilish and demonic artwork in the stained
glass windows. There were ogres chewing off the heads of goats, devils
sodomizing angels with their tridents, and hooded snakes devouring the insides
of diseased rats, to name a few.
“Where the hell am I?” asked Michael as he looked around
with a mixture of confusion and fear.
“That depends on what you’re looking for, my friend,” said a
shadowy figure at the podium. He slowly ventured into the light and revealed
himself to be a horseshoe-pattern and pony-tail haired priest in black and red
robes. He sported a creepy grin and kept his fingers together in a triangle
shape. “Welcome to the Church
of Satan. My name is
Reverend Paul Singer. Technically, the sermon doesn’t start for another hour,
but you’re welcome to stay here nonetheless.”
“Um…thanks?” said Michael while shrugging his shoulders.
Paul’s smile widened enough to show his demented dental work
as she slowly made his way toward Michael and placed a hand on the young man’s
shoulder. “Those are some lovely fangs, my friend,” the devil worshiper said.
“I’d kill for a set of those. You must be a creature of the night. Your kind is
always welcome in my house of worship.”
“Uh, listen, I’ve got to get going now…”
“Nonsense! Stay with me for a few hours! We can talk all
about the dark magic that surrounds us all. We can talk about your new role in
the Church of Satan. Vampires are especially important
to our cause,” said Paul. He wrapped his arm around Michael’s shoulder and led
the shaking nerve-wreck to the darker end of the church.
The vampire reluctantly sat down at the front-most pew and
gazed around at the artwork in the stained glass windows one last time. “Lovely
place you’ve got here, Reverend,” he said both sarcastically and fearfully.
“Thank you for the kind words. This church has been in my
family for many generations. I’m surprised it’s holding up as well as it is,”
said Paul. He sat down next to Michael with a bottle of red wine in his hands.
The demonic priest wrapped his arm around the vampire once more and took a
gigantic swig from the bottle. “Mmmm, that’s good shit!”
Reverend Singer looked almost lovingly into Michael Finn’s
eyes, making the vampire quiver even harder. Paul said, “It’s no accident that
you’ve decided to use my humble church as a place to stay away from the
sunlight. Satan brought you into my arms, so I’m going to make sure you’re safe
today. But there’s only one thing I ask of you.” Paul leaned closer to Michael
and Michael leaned backwards. “Make me into one of your own. I wish to be a
creature of the night as well. With that kind of power, I can have total
influence over the world. Satan’s way is the only way. What better way to prove
my prophecy than with a good set of vampire fangs?”
Michael could feel that evil grin on Paul’s face and it was
ripping at his soul like a pack of hellhounds on a wounded angel. The vampire
brushed his arms off and jumped away from him. “Listen, man,” he said. “Aside
from the fact that you’re creeping me the fuck out right now, I really can’t
help you become a vampire. There’s nothing glorious about being one of us.
Hiding from sunlight, constantly killing people for fresh blood, staying young
while all of your friends get old and die? You’re not going to have influence
over your congregation. You’re going to be lonely, just like me. Is that what
you really want?”
Paul sighed, stood up, and said, “I suppose not. Maybe
there’s something about my teachings that I overlooked. Maybe that’s the answer
I needed to hear the most. I was so greedy for power that I…” The Reverend
kissed Michael on the mouth and spit a poisonous tablet down his throat in the
process.
Aside from reaching the height of his fear, Michael clutched
his throat and coughed incessantly. Paul pulled out a hammer and silver stake
from his robes and nailed both of the vampire’s hands to the wooden pew. Blood
flowed from his hands like a raging river. The combination of coughing and
screaming brought up red bile from Michael’s throat as he was now spitting
chunks on the floor. Once he was done gurgling his life juices, he breathed in
a raspy tone and looked down on the stone floor, purposefully avoiding eye
contact with his creepy captor.
Paul grabbed Michael by the hair and lifted his head up
while glaring at him with the most sinister, angry smile. With gritted teeth,
he said, “Now you listen, you little shit! I offered you a place to stay out of
the sunlight, so you’re going to give me payment whether you want to or not!
What shall I do to you next, little boy?! Shall I sacrifice you?! Shall I throw
you out into the sunlight?! Or maybe…”
Paul retried a ball gag from his robes and shoved it in
Michael’s mouth. The vampire let out a muffled cry as the priest tightly
strapped the sex toy around his head. Michael’s weakness from the poison and
bloody pain from his nailed hands left him in a doubled over position over the
pew. The sinister minister’s smile was even wider and creepier than before with
his jaw fully clamped.
Still with gritted teeth, he said, “You’re going to give me
your vampire powers whether you want to or not!” Paul reached around for
Michael’s belt and unloosened it so that he could pull his pants down and
expose his posterior. Paul then clutched at his own robe and ripped it in half
to reveal a hairy, muscled body underneath only covered by leopard print
underwear. “I’m going to enjoy every minute of your sweet little ass!”
With that much fear built up in his system, Michael’s short
burst of adrenaline overrode the poison in his blood as he yanked on his hands
to try and free them. The instant Paul put his hands on the vampire’s butt, Mr.
Finn threw a back kick and nailed the priest in his testicles. Paul let out a
screech of pain and doubled over before plopping to the stone ground below.
Michael used his remaining adrenaline to tug at his hands
once again. The more he struggled, the more he bled. He even fought back the
urge to vomit with the orange ball in his mouth. He couldn’t keep it down any
longer. With one powerful rip, he pulled his hands free from the silver stake
and chewed through the ball with his powerful fangs. It was at that moment that
the poisonous vomit flowed from his mouth and the excessive blood drooled from
his broken hands.
Michael Finn exhaustedly dropped to the floor, the coldness
felt good on his sweaty, bloody skin. This place would have made an excellent
hotel if it didn’t have a creep running it.
Speak of the devil, pun definitely intended, Paul grabbed
the limp vampire by the hair and pulled him up once again. There was no smile
this time, only an angry burst of threatening words. “I am sick and fucking
tired of your rebellious shit! I should sodomize you on the altar right now! I
should crucify you out on the front lawn for all of my worshipers to see! I
should set you on fire with these torches! I should…”
Michael used his last burst of energy to bite into Paul’s
wrist and drink his blood like a keg of beer. He paid no mind to the Reverend’s
agonizing wails. Instead the vampire drank like a desert traveler dying of
thirst. The cool coppery blood felt good on his aching throat. His stomach was
soothed from the excessive vomiting. His hands began to heal until their wounds
were closed over. The orgasmic dinner was over quicker than it started, so both
Michael and Paul plopped on the cold stone floor unconscious.
After feeling refreshed from this thirty minute power nap,
Paul began to open his bloodshot eyes. His pain was soothed. His wrist wound
had healed over. He even pressed his thumb against his teeth to see if he had
vampire fangs. They were so sharp that they drew a tiny drop of blood from his
thumb.
Paul was laughing like a lunatic as he slowly rose to his
feet. He held his hands out Jesus-style and spun around in happiness. He
dropped to his knees, still laughing, still wide-eyed, and still grinning like
a monster. “It finally happened! Satan will be so proud of me when he sees my
new powers! I shall live forever in your grace, fiery one!”
“You want fire? You got it!” said a familiar voice. The
shadowy figure opened the front door and stood behind it to protect himself
from the glaring sunlight. Paul yelled, “No!” in classic cinematic fashion as
the sunlight set him ablaze and reduced his body to a crispy black corpse. He
was screaming, shaking, and spinning around during his execution. He wanted to
join Satan in hell and now he had his wish.
The door was slammed shut and the church was dark once
again. The instigator, Michael Finn, stood over the burned carcass and said, “I
told you being a vampire sucked. Church has been cancelled, you sick prick!”
