The severed head of the vampire looked up from the metal bucket and bared pointed fangs.
“I’ll kill you for this, you filth! Your agony will be unending!”
His decapitator smiled. “Like I give a shit. My agony is already unending.”
What remained of the centuries old vampire watched as the hulking funganoid drew a knife and proceeded to remove the thumbs from his remains.
“Tell me, Dariak, can you still feel this?”
The head glared with bloodshot eyes. “No.”
Malispore sighed. “Too damn bad. I was hoping…” He popped the severed thumbs into his belt pouch and proceeded to stuff the rest of the body into a large burlap sack.
“You have defeated my flesh but I shall rise again!” Malispore ‘folded’ the lifeless legs to fit into the bag with series of loud cracking sounds and glared at the dripping crimson container.
“You better shut your gob before I turn that bucket into a chamber-pot.”
Dariak Trovellos, Duke of Noctus Boudrin and suckler of the unwilling, opened his mouth to speak.
Malispore reached for his belt buckle.
Showing a degree of restraint uncommon for immortals (but entirely justified considering his condition) reconsidered and pursed his lips.
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A disgusting funganoid with a vampire head in a bucket has a rough night in an exotic floating city. Subscribe and you’ll see the closest thing I’ll ever write to an actual vampire story!
