Chapter 10: The Most Violent Thing You'll Ever See

Tiger wasn't sure what was going on, but she chose not to think on it.

The man that may have just saved Papa Bear's life (and the rest of their lives too) shifted as he said, 'As for who we are…I am the Count Vasilli Karnstein.'

Kaufman yanked up his gun. 'The pleasure's mine, Count!' And he fired.

The next thing Tiger knew, the Count had moved. The guard holding her arms back jerked with a grunt and fell back, releasing her. Tiger didn't question it. She darted away from him and over to Hogan. She dropped to her knees next to him and he immediately reached up for her. Despite the wheeze in his breathing and the blueing around his bloody lips, he reached for her.

'I'm okay,' she whispered. 'What about you? Your…' Her hand came down on his torso and she was very sure she felt a broken rib or two. Hogan took her hand and gently squeezed her fingers.

The Count got their attention again and they looked up.

'…And this fellow is Lord Walter Ruthven.'

The Scotsman seemed to leap down from the ceiling, landing behind Kaufman. 'Delighted, I'm sure,' he drawled sarcastically.

'I'm very confused right now,' LeBeau ventured.

Lord Ruthven glanced back at him. 'We'll explain later.'

'No one's faster than a bullet!' Kaufman insisted.

Lord Ruthven gave him a funny look.

Count Karnstein must've been doing the same thing. 'You do realise what you're trying to create, yes? There is a reason guns are ineffective against vampires.'

Kaufman growled. 'But can you stop four bullets at once?'

With a sound of alarm, Hogan twisted. Pain flashed across his face, but he tried to move.

Tiger knew there was nothing he could do. She reached for him and jammed her eyes shut, as she heard the sounds of four guns going off in unison.

'Bloody hell…' The sound of Newkirk's voice had her opening her eyes and looking up.

The Count has turned the gun away from Kinch.

Lord Ruthven had turned the gun away from Carter.

A woman had turned the gun away from LeBeau.

And a man in a British Navy uniform had turned the gun away from Newkirk.

'As a matter of fact,' the woman said in an Eastern European accent, 'we can.'

All four gunmen dropped dead from the bullets that had just punched through their skulls.

'Varney?' Hogan rasped. 'What is he doing here?'

He shouldn't have heard, but he evidently did. 'Saving your lives, colonel.'

'Where did you two come from?' Kaufman demanded. 'I have guards out there!'

'Correction!' The woman smirked. 'You had guards out there.'

Varney almost carelessly swiped a few drops of blood from the corner of his mouth. 'I'm afraid, after they shot us, we had to eat them.'

Tiger started at that.

'Yes,' the Count remarked. 'Rather regrettably, the most effective way for a vampiric life form to heal is by consuming human blood.'

'You're vampires?' Kaufman snarled.

'Don't be silly.' The woman smiled with her teeth.

The three men with her followed suit. Tiger watched in horrified fascination as those canines extended into fangs.

The woman continued. 'We are still half human. The word is dhampir.'

'Which, of course,' Varney said, 'means that we can survive either on human blood or human food.'

Lord Ruthven tossed in his two cents. 'And that while we have all the powers of a vampire, we possess none of the weaknesses. We walk freely in sunlight, silver and holy items do not bother us, and vampire barriers do not restrict us. And we're perfectly aware of those reinforcements you've got coming.'

'Shoot!' Hogan suddenly whispered and rolled back over. He grunted again.

The Count turned. 'Please stop moving quite so much, my good man. You have a broken rib, a punctured lung, and internal bleeding.'

Hogan glanced at him. His voice was weak and raspy as he spoke. 'Fair enough. Just do me a favour: convey my order to my men that they avert their eyes.'

'Ah.' The Count chuckled. 'So you know what's coming.'

Hogan looked pleased to see all four speak to his men, and all four of his men immediately averted their eyes. Then Hogan tugged on Tiger's arm. 'Come here, Tiger.'

Careful of the injuries the Count had described, Tiger shifted. 'What's going on?'

'The Duchess,' Hogan said, a little breathlessly. 'She's been camping at Stalag 13 a while. They were expecting this. She told me…she told me if the rescuers need rescuing…it's…it's…gonna be violent.'

Marie laid her head on his shoulder and slung an arm over his belly where she hoped there was no injuries. 'Don't talk anymore,' she whispered. 'I think the injuries are catching up with you.'

'Hm,' he murmured drowsily.

Tiger wasn't sure if it was safe to let him sleep yet, but she couldn't think of a thing to wake him.

The sounds of men screaming made her jam her eyes shut.

HH

Kaufman staggered back, horrified beyond belief.

The Count grabbed a man and sank his fangs into the man's neck. The Scottish Lord had just torn a man's head clean off and the British seaman had crushed another man's skull. The woman ripped a man's entire arm off before crushing his neck under her heel. She then grabbed another man then threw him into a wall hard enough to kill him.

The Count threw his meal away and leapt at his next target, blood still on his chin. He grabbed a man by the uniform collar and spun him through the air before bringing him down headfirst into the concrete floor. There was a sickening crack. The soldier's skull cracked open and blood and brain spilled onto the floor.

The Scotsman grabbed another soldier around the neck. With a single yank, the man's neck was snapped and he dropped from the Scotsman's grip. Then the Scotsman turned his gaze towards the fleeing Methodist reverend. With a dark chuckle, he pounced. Kaufman didn't see him cross the distance, but he saw his foot hit the preacher in the head. The religious leader was forced forward into a nearby girder. With a crack, he fell and the Scotsman hopped off of him.

Hogan's men crouched on the floor, eyes closed and hands covering their heads.

They were unharmed among the chaos.

Deciding that was it, Kaufman turned to run.

He froze when he saw the seaman suddenly behind him.

'And where, may I ask, do you think you're going?' He sauntered forward. 'You men are dying—have all died, and you fancy you can just turn tail and run?' The seaman tutted. 'No wonder you're just a sergeant. No courage at all.'

'Yeah, really.' The woman was suddenly behind him. 'My father always said: a good soldier faces death with dignity.' She waved an arm at Hogan's men. 'They all did. Where's yours?'

Kaufman staggered back. 'You're supposed to be on our side!'

'I do not condone the systematic murder of minorities,' the woman said.

'Seconded,' the Count snarled.

Kaufman glanced around for the fourth one. The Scotsman had moved over to Hogan. He said something to Marie Louise Monet and she slowly sat up, but she kept her gaze squarely on Hogan. The room was littered with dismembered corpses. Kaufman then turned his eyes back to the other three.

'You haven't got a patriotic bone in your bodies!' he snapped at the Count and the woman.

'Oh, make no mistake,' the Count said. 'We love our homelands. That's why we fight to get rid of the madman running the show. He is an Austrian, but he has no business running the country. And he certainly has no business commanding Romanian troops.'

'Getting them killed, you mean,' the woman grumbled.

'Speaking of getting killed,' the seaman spread his hands, 'who wants to do the honours?'

Suddenly, one of Hogan's men spoke up. 'I'll do it.'

The other three looked at him.

'How fitting,' the woman remarked. 'He's probably racist too.' She kicked up a rifle and tossed it over.

Kaufman spun around to see which of Hogan's men had volunteered.

The black man had caught the rifle. He walked over with a tight expression. The three white men followed. Kaufman jerked back. He couldn't be killed by one of those! Think of the indignity! But Hogan's Frenchman and Englishman ran around and grabbed Kaufman before he could try to flee.

The three dhampirs walked away, to join their fourth member around Hogan himself.

The two men twisted Kaufman's arms, forcing him down as Col. Hogan had been forced down.

The black man lifted the rifle and pressed the nozzle to his head..

Kaufman didn't even hear the bullet.