This is the first draft of Zombies vs Vampires, each chapter posted within a few days of being written. As a first draft, there will be continuity errors, and sections that will need to be deleted, moved, re-written or expanded for the final version. Please bear this in mind as you read it. If you spot something you think needs changing in any way, don’t hesitate to tell me in the comments. I’ll give you a shout out in the published version.
Jumped in part way? Here’s a handy link to Part 1.
“Shouldn’t we have weapons?” Marvin’s voice quavered as he asked the question.
The Mistress turned quickly and took a step back up the stairs. “Yes, we should. Would you go and ask the humans to hand them over?” Marvin shrank back from her. “No? Well, we shall just have to tear these things limb from limb with our bare hands, will we not? I remember in the second war, Lucille and I used to….”
Darkness crossed the Mistress’s face as she remembered what Marvin had told her about Lucille. She turned on her heel and stamped down the stairs again.
“I will happily go upstairs and deal with the humans.” Esmerelda said.
The Mistress stopped on the landing and stared up at them. Anger etched the dark lines of her vampire features on her face. “We will deal with the humans later. I should deal with them myself. I brought them into the tower. But it seems I created those things down there as well, so I have to deal with them also. Now, come with me, and let’s get this over with.” She didn’t look back as she set off down the next flight.
Esmerelda gave a little shrug, but followed. Marvin was less sure. He hovered on the landing for long moments, only following when Esmerelda was a flight ahead of him.
The Mistress slowed her descent, letting Esmerelda, and then Marvin, catch up with her. A few landings further down, they stopped.
“I hear them.” Marvin announced, as if the other two couldn’t.
Esmerelda leant over the bannister and stared down. “I see them. Two floors down. They’re moving, but not so fast. I think that one has seen me. Yes. They’re moving faster now.”
“I suppose we have their attention now. Rip their heads off and throw them and the bodies back down the stairs.” the Mistress said.
Marvin joined Esmerelda, staring down the gap between the flights of stairs. “Will they fit down there?”
“We will make them.”
It was a dramatic flourish, the bravado used to rouse troops before a fight. It was wasted on Marvin and Esmerelda, but the Mistress was at a point where she needed to hear it.
They stood at the top of the flight of stairs and waited for the stumbling horde to make it to them. When the first of the zombies milled around one flight down, temporarily losing the hunger that had driven them this far, the Mistress lost patience, and took the battle to them.
When the Mistress was halfway down the flight, the nearest zombie turned toward her, head flicking round like he suddenly remembered his mission. She hooked her fingers into a claw and, closing the distance, rammed them up under his jaw. Two of her nails broke skin, and her palm struck the bottom of his jaw so hard it cracked teeth.
The Mistress took hold, and lifted the vampire of its feet. She jerked her hand to left and right until, with a satisfying crack and gruesome tearing, the head separated from the body. She dropped the head over the bannister and let the body crumple and tumble down the stairs.
She had concentrated too much on this one kill, and the other zombies had become aware of her, and were advancing on her. She had to make faster kills from now on.
A woman zombie tripped over the headless body and cracked its skull against the stairs beside the Mistress. It twitched a couple of times, and showed no signs of getting up. To be sure, though, the Mistress cracked her heel down on the back of its neck.
The Mistress lashed out with a backhand slap that almost completely knocked the jaw off the face of the zombie to her left. She drove a flat-palmed punch into the jaw of a zombie right in front of her, driving it back so hard that it dislodged, tore through dead skin, then severed the neck. The dead woman dropped, whatever had been driving the reanimated muscles no longer there.
The zombie with its jaw flapping uselessly, connected by skin and the last sinews of a couple of muscles. Turned to the Mistress. His hands had started to come up, but she moved far faster. She rammed her forefinger straight through his right eye, punching a hole in the socket and reaching the grey squish of the brain. She hooked her finger around, getting a grip on bone, and pulled hard. If the yank didn’t separate vertebrae, the tumble over the bannister, and connecting with the stairs all the way to the ground, would finish the job.
“I would appreciate some help.” the Mistress said, not looking around as she found a head to grasp and twisted it until there was a satisfying snap.
Marvin and Esmerelda were beside the Mistress in a moment. Esmerelda landed a series of punches on a small group of zombies, cracking skulls and sending limp bodies sailing across the landing. Marvin kept making ineffectual little jabs at the same female zombie. His extra strength put power behind the rabbit punches, but she refused to fall.
Esmerelda let out an exasperated sigh when she saw how useless Marvin was being. She took the zombie’s head in both hands, and twisted until she heard the crack and pop of the spine separating. Lifting the limp body, she tossed it toward the bannister. The left leg snagged on the railings, and it hung gruesomely over the edge.
“Put some force into it. Or just lift them up and throw them down the stairs. But, please, stop doing this.” Esmerelda mimicked Marvin’s flailing punching style. There was only one zombie left standing on the landing, though the next, larger, wave would be along soon. Esmerelda pointed at the bloodied man stumbling toward them. “Try it on that one. Go on.”
Marvin stepped forward nervously, closing on the zombie at an angle. The ghoul twitched toward him, and he squeaked and took a step back. He turned at the tutting sound from behind him. He couldn’t tell who it was that made it, but Esmerelda was the one who waved him toward the zombie.
The zombie had its arms up, reaching for Marvin. He batted the hands away, so hard that the dead man span all the way around. Marvin saw the opportunity, and moved to grab the zombie’s shirt at the collar and trousers at belt level. He took quick steps with the zombie, lifting it off its feet, then propelled it over the bannister. It didn’t even react as it flew out and across the gap and smashed its head on the wall opposite.
Marvin watched as the now limp body landed atop the crowd of zombies one floor down. Beyond an initial stumble at the blow, they didn’t react to it. Yet, somehow, the body rolled across the densely packed heads until it tipped over the edged and fell down the gap between flights. It cracked against something at almost every floor, all the way to the ground.
“That was remarkably easy.” Marvin remarked, turning back to Esmerelda and the Mistress. He had expected smiles and congratulations, but they were still regarding him with the same exasperated expressions. Esmerelda pointed past him.
A hand grasped Marvin’s shoulder, and he jumped with a squeal. He jerked forwards, but the hand’s grip remained tight. It brought the zombie with it, the dead man slamming into Marvin’s back. He panicked some more, spinning round and trying to grab the arm and pull it off.
The zombie tumbled, legs twisting around and between Marvin’s. Marvin landed on his back, the zombie on top of him, hungry mouth biting the air just past the end of his nose. Zombies from either side fell on top of them, eager for a bit of flesh.
Esmerelda and the Mistress strode in, each grabbing one of the zombies and tossing them over the bannister. Marvin was still under the one that had tripped him up, holding it off with an arm pinned under his body. He struggled to release it, while Esmerelda and the Mistress moved on to the ones behind.
Marvin finally managed to get his other arm free. He grabbed the zombie and managed to throw it aside. Free, he scrambled back until his head cracked against stairs, then found the bannister to haul himself up.
The Mistress and Esmerelda were punching zombies, kicking them, throwing them over the bannister. As Marvin watched, they each grabbed one by the hair and slammed their heads together with a loud crack. They could handle themselves. They didn’t need him. He could fight humans, when he had enchanted them enough to make them passive, but this was too much for him. He turned and ran up the stairs.