Bloodsport Fairytale ch. 3

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Bloodsport Fairytale ch. 3

First and foremost let me apologize profusely for the unbelievably long wait between the previous chapter and this one. All I can offer by way of excuse is that life can be a cruel mistress indeed. Not long after I started working on this chapter, my computer crashed and took all of my work with It, because I am borderline computer illiterate and simple concepts such as anti virus and data back ups continually elude me. And seeing as I am still quite far from my ultimate goal of filthy, belligerently rich author / playboy, I only recently managed to scrape together enough cold hard cash to replace it. Now, since I'm sure you have other things in mind that don't involve listening to me prattle on about my day to day woes, let us return to Darrick and Courtney, and their lighthearted romp across America…


It had been more than a month since I had stopped bothering to cover our trail, and the old bastard still hadn't shown his face. Courtney, bless her naive little heart, rather optimistically believed that this meant we had permanently thrown him off our trail, and for most of the last week she had been sulking because I didn't agree and had kept us on the move. To make matters worse, I had also begun to notice that Courtney's psychological state was in a steady decline; and had been for some time now. She had started acting increasingly childish, and now her behavior was closer to that of a ten year old than it was to her actual age of fourteen… an extremely horny ten year old, mind you, but a ten year old nonetheless. At that very moment, in fact, I was having to deal with another of her bizarre stunts.

We were staying at the Marriott (ritzy, I know) and I had just stepped out of what I swear must have been the best and most relaxing shower I've ever taken in my seven hundred years of life when I came face to face with a brightly beaming Courtney hold a rather distressed little girl by the hair. Now, I would love nothing more than to say that my quick mind immediately jumped into action, churning out workable solutions to this little problem. Sadly, that was not the case. The unspeakably queer sight of a tiny, little slip of a girl dragging around another tiny, little slip of a girl by her curly blonde hair induced enough cognitive dissonance that all I could do was stumble over to the room's single bed, sit down, and heave a long-suffering sigh. After taking a minute to collect my thoughts, I spoke.

“Courtney,” I said, somehow managing to keep my voice level despite the rage that had begun coursing through me, “who the fuck is that?”

“I found her when I went down to the lobby to get a drink,” Courtney replied, wide eyed with excitement, “Can we keep her?”

Well. That was creepy.

“I'm sorry. Did you just say that you want to keep her? She's not a dog, Court, she's a little girl that you have just kidnapped, and, might I add, in full view of security cameras and hotel guests alike.”

I don't get it. Was I too lenient with her? Too strict? Did her time spent in Oxford's tender care just decide to jump up and devour what was left of her mind out of nowhere? How in the hell did she get the idea that this was okay? (Not that I'm adverse to kidnapping little girls, mind you, but she could have at least done some planning beforehand.)

My scathing tone had deflated her enthusiasm somewhat, but, being the trooper that she is, she soldiered right along, saying, “Well you haven't played with me at all lately, and I've always wanted a little sister. What's the big deal, Dare?”

Good god, there were so many holes in her logic that I didn't even know where to start, so I settled for pointing out what was, to me, the most important issue.

“Courtney, does the term Amber Alert mean anything to you?” I said, trying, and failing, to stay calm and rational, “We take her with us and within a day, every law enforcement agency in the country is going to be out looking for us.”

“So what?” she yelled, “That didn't stop you from taking me did it?!”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I growled back, “Oxford is the one who took you. I'm the one who saved you from that hell, and don't you forget it.”

Courtney withered in the face of my ire, and began sobbing quietly, but I pressed on, saying, “If you don't want to stay with me that's fine. I'll drop you right back on your parents' doorstep. But bear in mind, princess, that once I do, Oxford will just kill me and then he'll take you right back, and I won't be around to rescue you next time.”

I could tell that this conversation was going nowhere fast, and I was pretty sure that the girl's parents had noticed she was missing by now, so, at best, we had about ten minutes before the place was swarming with police. Deciding that placating Courtney was the quickest solution, I adopted a gentler tone and said, “Listen, Court, I get that you're lonely and need someone to keep you company during the day, so I'll tell you what: Once we've taken care of the old man for good, I promise that we will find you a little sister, but you have to let me plan it out next time. You can't just grab the first one that catches your eye.”

Courtney, who was still sniffling at the idea of giving up her new toy, nodded obediently and released her hold on the little girl, who promptly bolted for the door to our room. Imagine her surprise when, in less time than it takes to blink, I appeared between her and her destination and grabbed her. Whether it was from built up stress combined with the shock of seeing me move so fast, or because she somehow sensed my complete otherness the girl, who had done nothing but cry quietly through my entire exchange with Courtney, began screaming and thrashing like she was on fire. I couldn't have that so I spun her around and used one hand to clamp down hard on her nose and mouth, completely cutting off her air supply, while sticking the index finger of my other hand into my mouth and coating it generously in the narcotic venom my fangs secrete. Since the girl hadn't been prepared for it, there wasn't much oxygen already in her lungs when I cut off her air, and her face rapidly went from red to an odd shade of purple. When her struggles started to weaken I judged it safe to remove my hand because she wouldn't be able to start screaming again until after the effects of almost suffocating had worn off.

When I let go the little girl sagged weakly to the floor, and I quickly wiped my venom coated finger across her lips, effectively sedating her. I then wrapped my arms around her and let my supercharged pheromones do their work while she regained her breath and calmed down. After no more than a minute, the girl was more or less back to normal, except now she viewed me as a friend and ally. Someone who could be trusted completely. I told the girl (Who's name turned out to be Madison.) to go back to the lobby and tell her parents that she had gotten lost while looking for the bathroom. She grinned at me and nodded in a way that was almost sickeningly adorable, and virtually bounced out of the room and into the hall. I waited until she was safely around the corner before quickly packing what few possessions Courtney and I had, grabbing her roughly by the hand, and dragging her out of the hotel by way of an exit at the other end of the hallway. Once outside I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down before hoisting Courtney in my arms and taking off at a dead sprint that, to an outside observer, would look as if we had simply disappeared.

From the Marriott we were at in Branson, I headed south, not stopping until we had passed completely through Arkansas and happened upon a small, isolated town in central Louisiana. At that time it was a little after four in the morning and all of that running had left me incredibly hungry, so, with Courtney still cradled in my arms, I started roving around town looking for a quick bite (pun intended).

I hit pay dirt when we came across a bar that, judging from the glowing neon sign on the door, was still open (Thank god for red necks with nothing better to do than drink). As I came to a stop in the gravel parking lot and set Courtney on her feet, I looked over the place and decided it was suitable for my purposes. The building itself looked like nothing so much as a gigantic, corrugated-steel shed, complete with a sheet metal roof, and there were several large patches where the paint had flaked away and bright orange rust showed through. The fact that the bar had no sign to attract customers combined with the number of beat up trucks in the lot led me to believe that this was probably the only bar in town, and the unmistakably masculine odor coming from the building told me that almost all of the people inside were male. Rendering all of my nifty vampiric charming abilities completely useless.

Luckily I had a still-budding fourteen year old minx next to me who would be perfect for luring out an unsuspecting patron, and, giving her the signal, watched as she trotted across parking lot, through the rusted out door, and into the murky depths of the smoke filled tavern.

When the door closed behind her with a dull thud, I circled around to the rear of the building and waited. This was a scenario that we had played out a dozen times before; Courtney would go in and flirt with various drunkards until she was able to convince one of the to take her outside for a little fun. Once they found a nice, heavily shadowed nook and commenced said fun, I could saunter in and slaughter the jackass at my leisure, although I generally let them finish fucking her first as a sort of last treat (See? I'm not all bad).

Unsurprisingly it didn't take more than a few minutes for Courtney to come traipsing around to the back of the bar, arm in arm with some fat bastard who could barely stand up. I crouched further back in the deepest shadows to avoid being seen and prepared to pounce while the two of them began making out sloppily and the guy began pawing at her clothes. I grimaced in irritation when he got fed up with trying to undo the buttons on her shirt and simply ripped it off of her. Dammit. Now I was going to have to pay for another new shirt for her, and I hated going to the store. Luckily the bra she was wearing was a front hook so he was able to get it off without destroying another article of clothing.

As I watched, the drunken red neck began licking and sucking on her left breast while he squeezed and pinched her other nipple with his left hand. Courtney, for her part, was at least pretending to enjoy the rough treatment he was giving her, and began moaning prettily, though any sober person would be able to tell she was faking it. The fatso, on the other hand, took her moans as a good sign and began redoubling his efforts until she pushed him away and dropped to her knees in front of him. She deftly unzipped and lowered his jeans in order to pull out his no doubt already erect penis, and even though I couldn't see it from this angle, judging from the way her eyes widened the size of his member must have been far more impressive than my own. Courtney immediately took him into her mouth and began sucking with an enthusiasm that was no longer faked, and my irritation ratcheted up another notch.

The red neck began fucking Courtney's mouth with zeal, and at one point even grabbed the back of her head and forced her all the way down until her nose hit his pubic bone. When he did she abruptly lurched back and promptly vomited all over the pavement. That tore it. Courtney had taken my entire length down her throat dozens of times and had never even gagged once. Screw letting this guy fuck her, it was time for him to die.

Courtney was about to resume giving him a blow job when she saw me leave my hiding place and begin approaching him quietly from behind, and, taking this as her cue, immediately stopped what she was doing. The red neck, however, was facing the other way and couldn't see me, so just as he was maneuvering to shove his penis back down her throat, I grabbed a fistful of his greasy hair and bent his head so far back that he was forced to drop to his knees lest I break his neck. To his credit, the guy started fighting right away, but his level of drunkenness combined with the awkward position I held him in meant he couldn't put up much resistance, and even if he could, I was far stronger than he would ever be able to match so, really, he was doomed from the start.

I grabbed his throat with my free hand and squeezed until I could feel my fingers touching behind his windpipe. I knew from experience that this was extraordinarily painful, and if he had been able to get any air he would have been screaming bloody murder. It was then that I got my first look at his dick and a wave of irrational anger and jealousy surged over me. It was fucking HUGE. No wonder Courtney (who was still sitting on the ground in front of him, watching events unfold) had puked. Hell, I'm surprised she didn't dislocate her jaw on that monster.

At that moment I made a decision. I wasn't going to eat this guy, because then he would die in a euphoric bliss, and I wanted him to suffer. So instead of biting him, I made sure I had a solid grip on his windpipe, and PULLED. There was a wet tearing sound and the entire front half of his neck came away in my hand. The guy fell over and started flopping around on the ground like a fish out of water, and I could tell that if I weren't currently holding his voice box in my clenched fist he would be screaming. Loud.

Blood fountained from the open wound in his throat and drenched Courtney's face and perky tits in a steaming red mess, and I will admit that seeing her looking like that got my cock rock hard in an instant. Unable to contain myself I pulled Courtney to her feet, and, after quickly shedding her of her jeans and panties, pulled her into a passionate kiss that she returned two fold. I felt her tongue dart into my mouth and caress one of my venom coated fangs, and she went limp in my arms and shuddered in an intense orgasm. I couldn't take it any more. I needed to get inside of her, and fast. While I looked around for a suitable place to have sex (I can't imagine that gravel would be comfortable for her), I got a flash of inspiration and laid her face down on the newly dead corpse of the man I had just murdered, and entered her from behind. When she opened her eyes and saw exactly what it was that she was laying on she struggled to get away for a few seconds, but I got a firm hold on her hips and began plowing into her in earnest, and after a minute she finally relaxed and just enjoyed the thorough fucking I was giving her.

It didn't take long. Within ten minutes her hoarse cries reached a crescendo and she let out the hummingbird trill that signified she had had her second orgasm, and as I watched, I saw her little tongue dart out and she actually licked some of the blood out of the gaping hole where the man's throat used to be. That was more than I could take and I blasted the inside of her vagina with semen. I withdrew my now limp cock from her dripping pussy, flipped her onto her back and began cleaning the blood off of her face and chest with my tongue. Once I was satisfied that she was completely clean I went over to our one small bag and got her only other outfit, then had her change and go back into the bar to fetch me another meal.

I had to wait considerably longer this time, so I busied myself by hiding the fat red neck's corpse behind a nearby dumpster, and when Courtney finally reappeared around the corner of the building, she had not one, but two people following her. A man and a woman who both appeared to be in their late twenties. But instead of getting frisky with them like I expected her to, she came walking straight towards me, and called out, “Look Dare! I found some swingers!”

You see? This is why I could never stay mad at the girl.

The young couple was understandably startled to see me appear from the darkness and both of them began slowly edging away from me, so I tried to make myself look as non-threatening as possible and casually strode over to them with a friendly smile plastered on my face. I was afraid it looked fake as hell, but I needn't have worried as both the man and the woman visibly relaxed and came over to greet me and shake hands.

As I shook the woman's hand and exchanged empty pleasantries with the both of them, I could tell right off the bat that my pheromones were doing their job and the woman was more than ready to engage in some sexy fun. One look at her partner, though, told me that those same pheromones were having the opposite effect on him. He felt threatened by me (I couldn't blame him. After all I WAS planning to kill them before long.), and he was obviously creeped out by the fact that I was hiding behind the bar. Hell, probably the only reason he had agreed to come out here was the promise of getting to molest my under-aged companion. Dealing with him was going to be tricky.

Carefully thinking up a plan while continuing our inane chatter, I decided that since I had satiated my lust on Courtney's eager young body earlier, and I wasn't hungry enough to merit eating two people, I would forgo all the foreplay and cut right to the main event. To that end, when the man reached out his hand for a handshake (and he no doubt intended to try and establish dominance by crushing my hand) I simply wound up and punched him in the face with all of my super human strength. A wet crack resounded through the parking lot, and I felt his facial bones give under my fist, caving in his skull. The man's entire body went completely limp in an instant, and he was dead before he hit the ground.

There were a few blissful seconds of stunned silence as he lay twitch on the ground, and then the woman opened her mouth to let out what would no doubt have been and ear-drum shattering scream. Luckily I managed to clamp my hand over her mouth on the inhale and wasted no time in sinking my fangs into her carotid artery. After that she was trapped in such an intense orgasm that she probably couldn't have screamed even if I let her. As she twitched through her climax I felt her extremities and then her core go cold, and through the blood pulsing into my mouth I felt her heart beat slow and then stop altogether. When there was nothing left the inside her for me to take I let her limp body fall away from me, and as she hit the ground her bowels let go, and the stench of urine and shit filled the air.

With all of my appetites fully sated, I set about the task of disposing of all three bodies by throwing them in the dumpster (Hey it was there, so why not?). Once that annoying little chore was done I scooped Courtney back up in my arms and we wandered through town for a while, looking for a suitable place to bed down for the day. The search took far longer than I expected, however, and there was less than an hour left before sunrise when we finally managed to find an abandoned house on the outskirts of town.

The place was in a state of complete disrepair. All of the windows were boarded up, and the glass in them had been shattered long ago. It was also impossible to tell what color the house had been originally, because long term exposure to the elements with no periodic maintenance had stripped most of the paint away, and even in the spots where it was intact, it was faded to the point of being unrecognizable. All of that combined with the conspicuously large holes in the roof made the idea of here dubious at best, but we didn't exactly have a surplus of options so I resigned myself to making use of the place, which at least had and underground storm shelter that I could use to protect myself from the sun. Honestly the shabbiness and discomfort didn't really bother me. After all, during the daylight hours I was, for all intents and purposes, dead. Courtney was the one who would have to put up with discomfort, but that was of no concern to me.

After ripping the rusted out padlock of of the cellar door, I found a (relatively) clean corner at the back of the tiny space and made myself comfortable, telling Courtney to close the door behind her. Once she did, though, she had to stop moving entirely because it was now pitch-black inside the shelter and she couldn't see anything. Sighing in exasperation (carting a human around can be DAMN inconvenient sometimes) I pulled a cheap disposable lighter out of my pocket and produced a tiny flame for her to see by. As she fumble her way towards me I found a rotted out burlap sack she could use as a blanket and held it out to her. Courtney made a disgusted face, but took it anyway, and curled up beside me in the dark room. I figured that was about as good as it was going to get, so I shoved the lighter back in my pocket, and promptly fell asleep.

The sun had just passed its zenith when all hell broke loose.

I was curled up in my corner, soundly dead but still aware of my surroundings, and Courtney was tossing and turning on the floor next to me when a male voice blared over a speaker, “DARRICK THATCHER! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”

hearing the person outside use my full name was surprising enough to jar me to wakefulness, and when I looked down at Courtney, I saw that it had woken her up too. Her pupils were dilated and she was starting to hyperventilate, letting me know she was terrified past the capacity for thought. In an effort to bring her back to her senses I lightly tapped her on the cheek, but, as strong as I was, even a light tap was enough to rattle her teeth. She put a hand to her bruised cheek and stared at me, wide-eyed with surprise that I had hit her.

“Calm down,” I whispered harshly, “the last thing I need is for you to have a panic attack right now.”

She nodded silently, and, wrapping her arms around her legs, began rocking back and forth; trying to relieve some of the nervous energy that was coursing through her. I found the adrenaline soaked fear-sweat that she was pumping out thoroughly distracting, so I held my breath and closed my eyes in an effort to take stock of the situation. Outside was an unknown number of law enforcement officials, (who somehow knew my real name) all of which were undoubtedly heavily armed, and inside the storm shelter with me was one excitable fourteen year old girl that weighed maybe one hundred pounds soaking wet, and was so terrified that she had begun quietly muttering to herself. Well, I'd been in worse scrapes, and the police outside would be easy enough to kill in the five or so minutes it would take for me to succumb to the blazing sunlight, but Courtney was far more vulnerable than I was and she might get caught in the crossfire during the ensuing chaos. Luckily I had a modest array of supernatural powers to help me out of this mess.

Taking a deep breath in preparation, I reached deep within myself and flexed the internal muscle that would release my spirit from the bonds of my corporeal form. I HATED having to use this ability because floating around as a disembodied spirit was always so disconcerting, mainly because of the intense feeling of vertigo I always got. That, and it's pretty trippy not being able to feel, smell, or interact with anything. As a ghost that would be invisible to humans, I floated up through the cellar doors and onto the sun drenched lawn of the abandoned house. The intense sunlight couldn't hurt me in this form, but the brightness was still damned uncomfortable. After taking a second to get my bearings I looked to the street and found my would be attackers.

There were twelve cops in all, huddled behind the doors of six squad cars that had their lights flashing like a crappy rave party, and every one of the twelve officers was armed with a high powered assault rifle, and one even had a tear gas launcher.

Fuck.

This was going to be more complicated than I thought, especially since there was also a crowd of onlookers gathered at the very edge of a perimeter the police had formed with crime scene tape. I also noticed that more than a few of the curious bystanders had a camera with which to film the whole sordid affair. That meant that not only was I going to have to find a way to kill the twelve police men before they could accidentally shoot Courtney, I was also going to have to do it without being seen by one of the many cameras in attendance.

Focusing my attention inward, I found the thread connecting me to my body, and using that I flexed one of my other abilities, reversing gravity in the area around the cops and their cars, and had the immense satisfaction of watching as they all began falling skyward. Once they were sufficiently high and I deemed that they wouldn't survive a crash landing, I let gravity return to normal, and reveled in the sound as they screamed all the way down. I immediately returned to my body and giggled like a school girl when I heard the meaty thump of bodies hitting the ground at high speed, followed by the thunderous reports of the squad cars crashing down and exploding.

I grinned briefly while I listened to the screams of the scattering crowd, but then I was forced to turn my attention to our other (and more pressing) problem. We obviously couldn't stay here any longer, because the panic would soon die down and the human authorities would be back in force and armed for bear, but the sun was also high in the sky, which meant that I couldn't leave either.

What to do?

Thinking quickly, I came up with a plan, but I cringed inwardly as it took shape. Courtney was NOT going to like this.

“Court.” I said, turning to her abruptly.

“What?” she squeaked. She had calmed down somewhat after the initial commotion, but fear was still evident in her voice and expression. I outlined the situation to her as briefly as I could, then braced myself to put my plan into action.

“So what should we do, Dare?” she asked me, complete trust in her eyes. Thank god for impressionable youth.

By way of response, I put my hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture, and said, “Courtney, I'm really sorry about this.”

She cocked her head to the side and gave me a confused look that lasted right up until I punched her in the face.

Repeatedly.

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