Flesheaters and Bloodsuckers Anonymous: A Dark Humor by HC Hammond

Author:HC Hammond [Hammond, HC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Firelands Publishing
Published: 2012-01-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Harold rubbed his newly healed nose once more to make sure it was the normal pink, fleshy skin it should be. He’d been rubbing it all evening to make sure it hadn’t suddenly reverted to burnt flesh again, an old habit he’d thought he’d managed to overcome decades ago. Something about the vampiric ability to heal during the day didn’t quite translate to the mind. When he was younger his brain had a hard time accepting the whole regenerative ability thing. It had even gone so far as to create phantom pains in previously burnt areas and long healed bones for weeks after the injury. Stress brought back this sensation.

These days it didn’t take very much at all for him to revert to old habits. Harold felt like a yo-yo yanked back and forth in the hands of fate or the hands of a malicious child. He tried once more to focus on the poker hand before him.

Harold sat a table surrounded by other misanthropic creatures, one of which included the still irritated, Zork. The two of them hadn’t done more than rumble at each other since meeting up for the poker game. Harold didn’t know how to approach a conversation with Zork without starting another round of fang comparison.

He almost had enough for a straight flush, not a bad hand in five card poker. He tried to remember if jokers were still wild. Harold didn’t ask for fear of letting anyone know his hand.

To his left sat the dealer, one dry and dusty zombie, whose skin looked as if it might crumble at the slightest touch, and whose bones would probably fall apart on him at any moment or movement for that matter. Considering the state of his desiccated muscles, which creaked disturbingly every time he dealt a hand, he didn’t have all that much time left.

To Harold’s extreme left sat the wolf man, back in human form after a week’s worth of wild rampant mood swings and escapades. He lazily chewed on a cigar, smiled into his poker hand and wore an unpleasant Hawaiian tee shirt with authentic hand carved coconut buttons. He was responsible for getting Harold in on the game by way of apologizing for being such an ass when they first met, blaming it on the werewolfism, but having now seen both sides of Rufus the wolf man, Harold reached the conclusion he was more of an asshole as a human. To Harold’s right sat Zork and Harold himself made four in the group.

He agreed to this game as part of his bargain in playing the true mole for the feds. Do a little poking around. Get to know the other group members. Find out what’s going on here. The only thing, he was also starting to get a little curious himself about what kept happening to all of these graduates of the program. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed that Donald kept touting them as shining examples his perfect

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