Arthur’s eyes tensed up, his knees buckled, the sweat dripped like he was filling a pond. He could no longer handle the stress, couldn’t handle the fury that may have been behind, the fight had been drained from him. Arthur feared for his life for the thousandth time.

He put the medicine inside his inside pocket, it gave him comfort knowing it would be impossible for the medicine to fall out; it hadn’t happened before, he thought. Arthur turned around, knowing his resolve was at a push, but he would continue, whatever it took. But as he turned, he seen nothing, just cabinets full of pills. Arthur had no idea what to think, he could have sworn something was making noise. He turned back around and left through the pharmacy doors.

The hospital alarm was still ringing, flashing lights still blinding his eyes and stench of blood made his nose twitch. He checked behind him every so often, hating the idea of someone or something being behind him. But he kept seeing the void.

Until a shadowy figure appeared when it flashed red. He had to do a double take, seeing nothing the second time. Arthur was officially questioning his sanity.

He didn’t get far, until something brushed his shoulder. Something fast. He thought the thing had to have been flying to go that fast. He stared in the direction that thing hit him from, hoping to get a glance of it, but the humongous room was too dark, and the flashing lights was not enough to be able to see. He investigated like a detective in the dark. The whole room felt like it was silent as he looked for it.

One moment he was standing still and the other he was crashing into a window. It came at him so fast, the shock froze him up, making his body roll on his landing.

As laid still on bloody floor, he looked at his entrance, expecting a fight to the death, however, his eyes seen nothing but a smashed window. He hated that he was being toyed with, nothing felt worse.

The glass surrounded him on the floor, with some sticking in his skin. He removed it by brushing his hands down his arm, although, most of it stayed in his arm but didn’t stick out. As he got off the ground, he moved towards the window, and hoped to have no more surprises.

The window had a clear view of the thing that attacked him. The thing was flying at him like a missile. It moved straight, without moving a slight, and it had a lot of focus, he thought. The dog-like creature had wings that was bigger than his body, they were elongated compared to other wings. He could only see it when the red lights flashed, he hated when it looked like a shadow, it seemed more dangerous, he thought. The dog-like creature was getting extremely close, so Arthur had a plan in mind, that he hoped would work.

He felt his heartbeat; it vibrated his whole body. He paid close attention to the flying thing, making a sudden dodge as it came at him. The creature flew into a cabinet, causing multiple objects to fall on it and Arthur seen that it didn’t even harm it. His mindset quickly changed from hopeful to sorrowful.

The dog-like creature stood tall like a human, showing off its chest. His chest looked like it had been pumped up by air. Its arms were humongous. The biggest muscles he had ever seen, nothing compared he thought. Just looking at it gave him dread that he had never experienced before. The creature’s eyes were huge, with the pupils shining yellow, which freaked Arthur out; he thought most of the other vampires had normal colour eyes but mostly blue. The dog-like creature flexed like a gorilla, straining his muscles like a true beast would, it caused the veins in his arm to look like they were in an art show. It screamed in a deep voice, sounding like a dog on magical steroids.

The wings came out, spanning a lot of the room. The beast pounced for him, causing Arthur to dive out the way. He ran for a desk in front of him, sliding over it and making a ran for the window. He jumped for the window, hoping to break through it. But as he did, the beast jumped into him, stopping him from getting through. They both landed on some shelves. Arthur was on the bottom while the dog-like creature sat on his stomach, it made an advancement and grabbed Arthur’s throat. He could feel his large grey claws tightening around his neck. He felt like it was over…

His life was flashing before his eyes. All he could see was bombs going off with body parts flying all over the place. He could see forest fires spreading like evil on the world, killing animals without mercy. He seen all the innocents that were beneath him, they cried out his name, and the sad thing was that they weren’t crying for help. All he felt was shame. But he needed redemption.

The beast had one last war cry and slammed his fist into his metal helmet, his head vibrated. Arthur returned to the land of the living, trying to grab his shotgun that stood beside him, but he couldn’t reach it. He pushed his arms on the beast’s chest, feeling how tense it was, he knew he had no chance in moving it of him. He squirmed while hitting the beast in the face, but he didn’t last too long because his bloody fists felt the damage. With the knowledge that he was going to die, he took the mucus, blood and saliva in his throat and spat it in the beast face. Suddenly everything stopped and beast did nothing but stare into his eyes. After a couple of seconds, the beast stood up and took all his strength and prepared both his fists, ready to slam Arthur against the ground.

Arthur seen his opportunity and quickly acted on it. He turned his body and successfully grabbed the shotgun. He barely aimed while he took a shot at the wild beast, confusing it and making the beast step back. Arthur felt his resolve rejuvenate after knowing that the shotgun harmed the beast.

The beast howled at the ceiling, pounding both fists on his chest, causing the room to vibrate. Arthur didn’t wait for any introduction and immediately pumped the shells into the beast. Arthur noticed it was stumbling backwards, while hoping this might be over soon. He stepped closer towards the beast and yelled, “you will fall to your knees if it’s the last thing I do! Do you hear me, beast?”

Suddenly, the beast ran towards him. It brushed passed him, Arthur thought it was escaping, which seemed likely to him. The beast crashed through the window; the glass shattered to the floor. Arthur celebrated as the beast started to fly away. It made its way to the ceiling, Arthur seen that it was licking the wounds, but he wasn’t sure. He could clearly see the beast when the room flashed red, Arthur wished the room had lights, his survival would be much likelier he thought.

Arthur knew the beast would catch up with him if he did run away, the bike was far too loud and dangerous in a time like this, he thought. Arthur felt the drive to kill the hideous beast and looked for a solution. But nothing came to his brain. He couldn’t even see the beast and knew he had to get a better look, if he was to slay the thing in his way. He figured going to the next floor was the best idea he had.

As he moved to the stairs, a bunch of rubble was blocking his way, however, he noticed a tiny hole that he potentially could climb through. Arthur instantly regretted going after it, the thought of him escaping seemed dumb at the time, though now he wished he had taken the chance. The beast would surely catch up to him now, if he tried it, he thought.

He braced himself like a cast, put his head into the hole of death, feeling the sweat drip from his forehead. He hated the tight space with just his head in it, never mind his whole body. He had never really been claustrophobic, but this hole was inaccessible like no other hole he had been in before. He knew the risk, thus, he continued. The dust and tiny rocks covered him as he crawled through. he struggled the more he crawled through, because of the stairs he had to ascend through the hole, causing him to move more and use more strength. He hoped it was just one set of stairs, hoped the rumble wouldn’t crumble on him and bury him alive, the thought put the fear of God in him.

The crawling became harder, the sweat dripped harder, his muscles stained harder, everything became harder. His hand began to ache, with the tip of his fingers feeling like they had disappeared, the small rocks scraped against his fingers making them feel even worse.

He pushed both feet one last time, seeing a red flashing light and it reminded him how doomed he really was, even if he slayed the beast. He crawled out the rest of the way, thinking how many creatures he had fought, and how lucky he had been. He went into a deep thought. He thought how life ended up this way. He knew how screwed up the world was, but with the nightmare of the creatures just made things depressing, like there was no hope left. He thought how little humans he had seen on his travels. “Is everyone dead?”

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He made it through the stairwell, opened the door which led out to a long corridor, which held rooms for the patients. The corridor had massive windows facing the main reception, Arthur seen the beast roaming just below the ceiling, and he was glad to be able to see it clearly.

The beast stopped again, licked his wounds with passion, which made Arthur feel sick. It was like the beast enjoyed his own blood, he thought.

Arthur checked how many shells he had, “that’ll do, I guess…” His heart pounded as he prepared to shoot the beast. He knew the shotgun was no sniper, but the shotgun had great range, especially with the spread. He just hoped the spread would completely hit it. He bent down on his knees, rested them and he heard his knees crumble and click like they needed oiling. He aimed for his moment – aimed for his safety – and aimed for his target.

Arthur pulled the trigger, hitting the gigantic beast with the whole spread, it reacted instantly. The beast flew straight for him. Arthur couldn’t even move; he just felt terror in his spine. The beast hit the massive window headfirst, breaking the glass onto Arthur and he fell straight to the floor, hitting his backbone on the hardened floor, making him wince in pain. The pain made him nearly forget the beast, until it screamed in a kind of war chant. He thought the beast was going to attack him, while he wasn’t protecting himself. But as he looked up, it started to fly away.

Arthur shouted with spit coming out his mouth, “you aren’t… getting away, you foul creature!!” He dropped his shotgun, it hit the floor like it was his flag to tell him to start racing. He raced to the window ledge, seen his opportunity and took it. He jumped off the ledge, landing on the beast’s back, and grabbed the beast’s wings. However, it became hard to grip due to them moving so fast. He held the wings for dear life, with his body swinging to both sides and his stomach pounding on the beast’s back. Arthur could feel the breeze within his helmet, it helped his hot sweats.

The beast had gone faster before, Arthur thought. The beast was now flying recklessly with no aim. Flying straight into a wall, Arthur’s left hand came loose, and he hung on with his right. The force of the impact nearly sent him off the beast’s back and sent him headfirst into the same wall. But his grip stayed strong, though he didn’t think his strength would last. How could it he thought?

The beast pounced of the wall, while looking dazed and lacking fuel to fly on. Arthur finally managed to get his left hand to grab the wing, while he did, he noticed the beast looked fatigued. He looked for the wound on the beast. He saw it was near his left shoulder blade.

Arthur took his right hand, while still holding the wing with his other hand, and used his right hand to grip onto its gushing wound. It wasn’t hard for him to put his fingers in the biggish hole, however, gripping onto the wound was another story. He had to push his fingers into the wound as hard as he could, causing the beast to moan, and with the beast’s blood streaming out into Arthur’s face, his grip was loosening, so he twisted his fingers and dug them deeper into the moist, gushing and bloody wound. The beast back became less tense, so he gripped harder, hoping to force his whole hand into the wound, however, the beast’s skin and muscle was tough to expand to make the wound wider. The blood came out of the wound like it was trying make a river of blood and it gushed into his face and dripped down his helmet. The stench of the blood was so strong that you could smell it for miles. But the effort must have done something as the wings went limp and the beast started to dive, heading into the windows they had just left.

They both smashed into the remaining windows; glass shattered, with the only sound being the glass falling on the floor. The beast took most of the force, which made Arthur fall over the beast like being in a fastmoving car without your seatbelt and someone braking instantly. He landed on his arms, protecting his head and body. His legs didn’t have the same luxury.

The beast landed against the wall; his back hit it first with pure force. The beast moaned with everything it had. The beast tried to pick itself up but stumbled and hit the floor. It had a broken back left paw that looked mangled and ruined. The beast lifted the leg of the broken paw and smashed it against the floor, causing the bone to go back in place.

Arthur seen what had taken place and worried if the beast was still in the fight. He seen it trying to get back up, as he thought of a way to take it down. He had no time left, the beast was on all fours and began to stable itself. Arthur looked behind, seeing the shotgun, which gave him hope. He ran for it, picking the shotgun up and running to the hideous, gigantic beast.

He reached the beast and shot at its back and the beast reacted by swinging its defined arm, hitting Arthur straight to the chest, sending him flying and hitting the wall. He instantly felt winded while sitting against the wall. He felt sympathy for himself.

He braced himself, picked the shotgun back up and tried to get out of his slump. He used the shotgun as a walking stick, staring at the beast’s eyes, showing no fear, only the anger he felt inside. Arthur got into a running position and shouted at the beast, “you think you have me! Well, you don’t; I can do this all day!” He thought he was wasting his energy, so he thought of a plan, a plan to take down the beast. And it instantly came to him as he saw the beast’s humongous wound.

Arthur sprinted to the tired and broken beast. He knew what he had to do. The beast whined his arm as Arthur got closer and as he did, the beast swung with pure force, causing Arthur to dodge his swing by using the blood on the floor and sliding on it with his knees. He rushed to his feet, realizing he was now fighting on the inside but was glad for it. He used all the force he had left and plunged the shotgun into the beast’s gigantic infectious wound. It entered like a fitted shoe, with blood and gushy liquid spouting out into his face. Arthur began to grow sick with all the disgusting liquids that kept going onto his helmet but was glad for wearing one.

He forced the shotgun in deeper, causing the beast to scream in agony, and massive tears came dripping down the beast’s face. Arthur seen the tears and was shocked by them. He didn’t let him distract him from the mission. He pushed it in deeper, until it slammed against a solid surface. He stared into the beast’s corrupted eyes and unloaded the shotgun into the wound, causing the beast to stop moving completely without any sound whatsoever.

Arthur looked at the beast, feeling hopeful that he might actually be able to save the family. The beast struck the floor like a sack of potatoes, letting out one last gasp of air, with his belly going flat. Arthur was struck by the how dog-like the beast really was; he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that he felt empathy for the beast.

Arthur left the lifeless beast on the floor, strolled to the exit and resumed his nightmare of a journey.

He saw two similar sized figures, as his eyes slightly opened but as he blinked more, it became clear that it was one figure. His head felt fuzzy, eyes felt droopy, and his body felt nothing but tiredness. He attempted to move out of his chair, but he couldn’t move at all. His arms and legs had been tightly strapped to the chair. He panicked and squirmed and strived to get out of the chair but had no chance. He finally looked at the figure, with his vision normal, he saw it was his mother.

“You’re awake, are you?” She said in a horrifying tone, “don’t think you’re going to die because you have a hell of a life coming to you, Danny.” She flicked her beautiful long blonde hair back, began strolling towards him, and passive-aggressively smiled at him.

Danny stomach turned as she got closer. He prepared for what was to come: breathing in and out, biting down on his teeth and pushing his feet against the floor. It didn’t work, and his fear was hitting the heights of a big building, when she reached him.

“Oh Danny, what are we to do with you?”

Danny’s face’s bluff was no longer, with all his emotions coming out, “please mum, please, I need you more than ever!” He began screaming for other help.

Elizbeth grabbed him by the throat, while stumbling, “shut up, brat, no one can hear you and if they can, it will be a vampire.” She began to lift her hand gently off his mouth, “you, see? The world is mostly vampires now.”

Danny felt nothing but horror. He wanted everything to end and it all to be a nightmare. Nothing felt better than his reality being a nightmare that he could wake up from.

Danny had always felt good about how brave, creative and mature his experiments were; he always felt like an adult, but he now began to think that he was just a cowardly kid.

“Anyway! Your father will be here soon, to punish you for what you have done to me.” Her rage took control of her, “what son tries to kill their mum? Tell me! What son?!” She saw his face full of fear and felt satisfied with her words but did not want to stop, even as tears began to run down his cheeks. “Are you even my son? well, are you?” His voice wouldn’t come out, “I don’t reckon you are. You’re an ugly bastard with no believes that suckles the life out of me, every chance you get. You hear me? My heart feels cold with you around and nothing will ever change that, unless I change you.”

Danny’s heart felt like it had been struck by an arrow, but not just one, many arrows. He just wished it had ended him there and then. Before his next thought could come, Elizbeth slapped him like a hammer and his cheek became red like blood.

“You think that slap is the worst thing you’re going to get, then think again!”

As Danny sobbed, he seen a figure in a long coat, hood up that covered his face and bloody clothes. Danny noticed the figure had a body over his shoulder. He hated to think what they were going to do with the person.

The figure took his hood down and chuckled while he spoke to Danny, “hi son, I hope you’ve been good.”