Montgomery returned to the motel. Besujia was nowhere to be found. He sneered, "Where did the bitch go?" he went to the rooms. As he went a hall, a woman came out her room in white pjs. He pulled a pistol out and shot her in the head. "BRENDA!" the male came racing. He shot him too. He heard crying inside the small room. There was a baby sitting on the bed. "Oh..." his eyes sparkled. Montgomery picked up the baby, they seemed to cry louder. "I'll name you Edwina." he checked the diaper. "Abbington."
"Call the police!" yelled a man. "Wake up! Somebody call the police!" he headed towards the entrance. Montgomery dashed in black shadows to the entrance and aimed at the man's eye. He screamed, another woman came out her room. She screamed, "Well, at least she has a church now."
.
.
.
One, Belinda Paxton. Two, Justine Forbes. Three, Blair Burton. That's three women. Walter Edison, Carter Lawson, and Frances May-Porter. Three males with an uncircumcised penis. And Floyd Sims, Milo Cook, Alvin Finnerty, and lastly Hoyt Burns.
Mrs. Belinda was about 76 and happy to achieve it. She suffered a heart attack after her grandchild didn't make it out of surgery. She didn't mind going. However, she lived to see the light but still sadden by the death of her grandchild. Little Lee had gone in for surgery to remove a nail from his eye.
Justine Forbes was in college. She got by with blowjobs around campus, she was not from South Dakota and had at least 17 pornhub videos of herself fucking twelve boys from college. Justine was adventurous and full of sex. She was also pregnant with Hoyt's baby, but she didn't know and hoped it was Floyd's... because he was half black and white.
Hoyt was a football player. In the last three years he had broken his collarbone four times. He had part of his shoulder replaced and the group actually stopped during their travels. He couldn't fuck due to his injuries, but he enjoyed watching Floyd fuck Justine for a video of cuckholds.
He gave instructions.
Now Walter was a short man about 36 years of age. He owed a dildo but as a weapon. He caught a DUI charge last year for running over a handicapped child. He was an alcoholic. His favorite drink? Pan American Clipper. He was a racist and took part in his days berating the absolute shit outta Spanish people. He made multiple profiles to follow his ex-wife Summer, who married a man that lived 17 fucking miles away from their home in New Jersey.
He also had Parkinson's.
Blair was a normal young woman about 25, She had a sister that just passed from suicide. She, on the other hand, was completely jealous. Because her sister Lorrie had a vampire boyfriend and they both committed suicide. Blair loved poetry and her dildo. She wasn't lonely, she gave up being emo to be a YouTube influencer and promoted self sex.
Milo Cook was married to the Inn girl. Her name was Jasmina Tam and her father, who he shot was Remy Tam. Milo just had his legs cut off for attacking Montgomery with a knife and stabbed.
Long story short, his white ass was dead.
"Listen to me." said Montgomery. They were tied up with their hands behind their backs. "Is there a town near her?"
"Nigga how would we know!" hissed Floyd. "I ain't from here."
"Shut up faggot..." grimaced Montgomery. "I need a church so everybody get ready for prayer."
"Prayer?"
"Are you a vampire!" shouted Walter. "Are you to eat us!"
"No." he said. "I wouldn't mind." spoke Justine. "You are ugly, so you could get it from the back." she shrugged.
"What in fuck's name is wrong with you?" glared Blair. "HE's a vampire and your offering him sex? As if you weren't loud enough as it is."
"I like to fuck before I die, bitch!" Justine replied smugly.
"Soon." Montgomery looked at the bodies. He gazed at Mrs. Blinda. "Are you dying?" Mrs. Blinda looked at the girls, she looked at Montgomery. "I want her." she ogled her head. "The bitch with the titties."
"Excuse me granny?" Justine gasped.
"What do you mean?" he questioned. "You are a vampire. You all sacrifice bodies, I'm old, my husband is dead." she shrugged. "Let me die. I don't have blood, I have a vagina but that won't be much use to you."
"Why are you so ready to die?" asked Montgomery.
"I just am. I'm old. I got flowers in my backyard, I went to college and studied astronomy. "
Montgomery raised a brow, "Really?"
"I thought I could be a witch once."
"What's your last name?"
"Oh..." she looked around the room. "Growden."
The others were left with dangling jaws. "You probably racist." noted Floyd.
"Give me the girls body and trap somebody else in me. I got fibromyalgia. I'm burning like a sinner."
"You studied witchcraft?"
"To ease my pain. The ointments did work. But I think somebody wants me dead... or I'm going senile." she turned her attention to a picture on the back wall. "See that. Use magic."
"Will you stop giving him idea you old coon!" chastised Alvin, her son in law. "I told yo daughter you belong in a home."
"I was home!" she yelled. "I was knitting!"
Montgomery didn't give a fuck about personal lives. He didn't care who died in the moment, but he wanted to take out Floyd first.
.
.
.
Besujia never caught a ride. She was pissed, pissing, and shitting. Not because her body was ruined, she kept her body up to par taking Tylenol with lemonade. In the evening she had her whiskey. At night she took a sleeping pill with tea. In the morning, she needed her energy to attend her fake job at a kiosk selling keychains.
That was seven years ago. No... three? It could have been any year.
Besujia twitched and groaned arguing with Torielle. She really hated this little girl. But that was beside the point. She had to get to the CVS.
She didn't feel pain, she was already dead. And should have died twice. Vampire soul's were white. It was Attaullah once again who even tried to chase demons out of her ass. She didn't have demon, she was just a bitch. Going to CVS like a fucking field trip. She didn't work there, she had to go CVS. Look at the cough syrup, the pills for pain, sleep, and retardation. She even got some skin ointment for her scaly elbows.
She told her doctor, Surena Aslanian, or whatever that foreign ass name was. Why couldn't everybody just speak English. She spoke English. She even came up with her own slang that everybody in Virginia knew. Though, not a fucking soul said it out loud.
She was fucking high.
Everyday.
Every hour.
She hadn't even soaked in her cocaine. Hadn't put water up her nose, so she could get her heroine in her. She was falling out of routine but one damn thing was for certain she had to get to the CVS.
A breeze crossed her arms. She continued walking, the CVS was never this far. But she was going to find it. If it was the last thing she did.
She did try to get a job at CVS. They even had candy and she asked them what did they put in the candy to make it so sweet. She thought it was crack.
She remembered the lady at the counter. She thought she was pretty with her foul ass attitude.
"Do y'all sell glasses? Because eyes can't like absorb sunlight."
"Do you have an eye problem?"
"Yes I do."
"I'm sure the pharmacy can help you. You might need a prescriptions."
Besujia squinted, "Like a medical form?"
"Yes." told the woman. "And you work here?" she jabbed the counter. "I do but you to go to pharmacy for that. This is check out."
"But they check out back there so I'm just wondering why you can't talk to them."
"Ma'am." the woman was clearly flustered. She had gone to CVS every day, and suddenly. It was becoming harder to talk to people. CVS knew her. She was an outstanding customer. "Can you give me a card?" she shaped the item with her fingers. "No ma'am." said the cashier. "Gawdawg, I know another CVS, you know the one on Michael?"
"No." the woman was absolutely in the movement of quitting. "Can you call them?"
"Why do you want me to call them?" And the woman had told herself, she didn't need this job. This was the 14th time she had come to the CVS store asking the dumbest shit. "Ok, one more question." Why? "Do you work for the clinic on Calvert?" she tossed her thumb back. "The one next to navy seals yard?"
"I-I..." this crackhead was strong. "I don't know the area."
"Are you from here?" Mable asked. Squinting and leaning forward as if she couldn't fucking see. Maybe she did need glasses. Maybe she needed a hospital. Maybe she needed death. That was healthy. "You know you look like..." she snapped her fingers, "What's that singer name?"
"Ma'am you are holding the line." Why did she use ma'am so much?"
Mable drummed the desk. "Janet Jackson." she skipped back, bumping into a white man who was utterly tried of this woman's shit. "She look like Janet Jackson." Mable smiled. "Who?" said the white man."
"Lady can you get the fuck out!" yelled a black man. "Well what the fuck is yo problem." She got out the line by the grace of God. "What the fuck are you talking about? You on drugs?"
"Yes I am but you shouldn't be asking me!"
"What the fuck!"
"Can somebody call the police?" exclaimed a white woman with a pre teen son. "You are causing a disturbance." the white woman out her hands on her hips. Mable couldn't believe she had the fucking audacity.
So she did the same thing.
"I can do it too." she smirked. "You ain't the only one."
The woman took her hands off her hips and her mouth was left ajar. She looked at the people in the store. "W-What is wrong with her?"
"What's wrong with you?" asked another strange white person but she swore to god she knew everything as she said. "Deana?" she stepped closer to the black-haired woman. "Don't come near me." the supposed Deana moved away. "Deana Osborne... you remember me?"
"I don't know you!"
"Can you get the fuck out of here!" shouted the white lady with a son.
"You look like Deana. And I know Deana, you still like Cheerios? Because you used to sell cereal for the food drive on Albert..." she snapped her fingers in thought. Grove."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Mable stepped forward. "I have pepper spray." the woman's hands went into her pockets. "Deana..." she lowered her gaze. "Don't try me today."
"Get away from me." the more the white lady moved. The more Mable moved closer. "You smell like liquor, you've been drink--AHHHHHHHHHHH"
It finally happened. Mable held her face as her eyes burned. She couldn't open them. "I told you to keep your fucking distance!"
"What the fuck is your problem! I came to get my medicine!" Mable shouted. She forced open her eyes and picked up a Listerine bottle and chucked it at her. "You stupid fucking bitch!"
Mable Harper. Mable Harmoni Harper picked up a shaver and threw it at her. "Will you fucking stop crackhead." the black man that was in line, made a very brave decision to try and touch her. He went for the arms but Mable escaped his hold. "Let me go!" Mable screamed.
With her free right hand, she smacked it across the nigga's face. "Bitch!" the nigga grabbed both her arms, miraculously. He threw her to the ground. Mable tried to bite him, she kicked his ankles and screamed.
She was sprawled out on the floors of CVS. A white man intervened, either persons knew what he was capable of. But he helped the black man and together they tried to pin this bitch down for peace.
"Get her legs, we gotta get her out of here!" urged the white man. Mable kept kicking and screaming, she tossed and turned. She rubbed against the floor, sliding, and screaming. Finally when the nigga was able to get her fucking feet.
Together with a white stranger. They forced her ass out the store by tossing her out on her ass.. Mable got up and ran into the store again, grabbing the white man's hair. The black man tried to help by punching her in the face.
Mable fought hard. She fought with all her might. She grabbed hair, she bit people, her eyes were red, she saw a shovel. The world just seemed to be spinning out of control.
She was still screaming. Something hard blinded her. Why was she on the ground. "Goddamn!"
She had to make to the CVS.