The Second Coming: Under the Flesh

By Brian Stoneking

A race of alien vampires have over taken the planet. Now it's up to a small band of slayers to back the planet in this apocalyptic future society. In a world where humans and vampires are at constant war with each other and entire cities are in ruins. The only way to have a fun challenge is to have sword fightening competitions in old run down shopping malls. Now the only way to clam back the planet is for the slayers to use air-force jets to eliminate the fiends from another galaxy that can shape-shift into human form and the only way to kill them is with a virus called Dioxin 101. Alien vampires are not the only thing these slayers have to worry about. Giant mutant spiders and a twelve foot genetically engineered vampire constantly stalks prey. Living in a world like this you can never trust anyone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 25, 2002
• ISBN: 9781465330260

Brian Stoneking

Brian Stoneking enjoys reading science fiction and loves watching horror movies. He frequently reads Fangoria magazine. All of his life he had one dream to become a writer. He has attended nearly thirty sci-fi conventions. Stoneking admits that an idea for this novel came to him while sick one night, drinking whiskey. The idea came to him in a dream. Besides having a craving for warm flesh Stoneking has recovered from his illness and lives in Madison, where he is an avid bicycle rider.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Travis VanHorton sat at the bar inhaling his cigarette and thinking about how the world had changed. Travis had a normal childhood. His father was an Air Force pilot and his mother was a veterinarian. The family lived in a modest house located near an airforce base.

Travis’ life was normal until an unidentified spaceship came into the Earth’s atmosphere and annihilated half of the planet’s population. His Father’s Air Force jet exploded in midair because of the radiation. He tried to eject from the jet, but the radiation melted some of his inner body parts and his eyeballs spewed from their sockets. Soon, after, mother died of cancer. Because of this Travis had grown up to be a bitter man.

Mr.VanHorton … um-m … Mr.VanHorton.

What is it?

The check for your beer.

VanHorton grabbed the bartender’s arm and examined it carefully, looking for a circular object with a line crossing through it. Seeing that the man’s arm was clean he shoved the bartender aside.

Alright, you’re clear.

What were you doing?

I was checking to see if you were a Telepathian; They have tatooed circles on their arms. But don’t worry you’re clear.

The bartender noticed VanHorton’s shiny glistening katana sword strapped to his back and asked, You weren’t going to chop off my arm, were you?

A moment of silence followed. Travis sat silently, listening to the techno music, watching the old passed-out drunks and the Freedom fighter pilots intermingling. The Freedom fighter pilots flew around in old Air Force fighter jets the same type of jets his father had flown.

Travis slammed his drink on the table, nearly shattering the glass.

It’s a very interesting job that you do, isn’t it? the bartender asked.

What’re you talking about?

Hunting down those alien vampires. Do you work with the Freedom fighter pilots?

No, I work with with a group of hunters.

Travis knew a few things about the Telepathians. They were from the tiny, lonely planet of Telepathon Eight. Beneath the surface of their planet the Telepathians had a feeding cycle. They would grab dead bodies of their own species and drain the blood from the corpses to make food for the inhabitants that were still living, growing and reproducing.

Despite feasting on their own dead, they also had the power to control human minds and were able to read thoughts.

Travis slammed down his glass and paid the tab. He walked out of the saloon, stumbling toward the hotel next door. The entire town looked as if it were a modern-day version of the old Renaissance period. Each building was built like those of the medieval era. In the middle of the town were destroyed and wrecked automobiles.

A woman was standing just outside the hotel, wearing a long black beautiful dress.Her eyes were light blue, her long hair was jetblack.

Hey, big boy, I’ve got a room. Do you want to come with me? the woman asked.

‘You know this hangover will never go away unless I get some lovin’."

In the hotel room the woman stripped off all her clothes and lay on the bed. She spread her legs and rubbed her hands on her legs’ silken-smooth skin.

What’s your name?

Travis VanHorton.

And what do you do, Mr.VanHorton?

I’m a bounty hunter. I seek and destroy Telepathians, VanHorton replied, removing his sword and his shirt.

A shocked expression crossed her face, but she immediately hid her true emotions.

Sounds like very exciting work, Mr. VanHorton.

You’ve no idea the trouble I go through.

Travis often thought about settling down, finding that special woman and perhaps merrying her. His only problem was he had a habit of abusing women. Travis even treated his fellow vampire-hunter Rebecca Jenkins somewhat like dog shit.

As they began intercourse, Travis recalled how he felt truly bad about the women he abused. All he could think of was the difficult life he had after his mother and father died.

While having his orgasim, Travis could hear the faint roar of the Freedom Fighter’s Air Force jets, seeking out any Telepathians left on Earth. Good luck he thought. I’ve probably killed them all.

What the hell? Travis asked.

What, what do you see?

You’re one of them aren’t you? you’re a Telepathian.

Travis noticed a crack in her forhead. Underneath her skin was a black, leathery type surface. The woman noticed Travis’ troubled expression upon coming in contact with a member of a race he had spent his life tracking down.

I knew it! You’re a Telepathian!

What? No, you don’t understand.

What’s under your skin? What’s under your flesh?

VanHorton tore the left side of her face, revealing a part of her true form. Her one eye was a radiant red color and her real skin was dark-green, almost black, colored and covered with scales. She hissed and panicked. Tiny suction cups emerged from the tips of her fingers.

Please don’t kill me! she begged.

Travis pulled his pistol from the holster and aimed it at her. In a panic, using the suction cups at the tips of her fingers she began to climb onto the walls. She opened her mouth to reveal her retractable fangs and a frill of skin that stuck out from her neck. Her fingernails turned into claws, as she crawled onto the ceiling. VanHorton fired, tearing a hole through her neck frill. The woman felt a stinging, burning pain on her skin.

In pure rage she leaped from the ceiling, attempting to strike at Travis. He fired again, hitting her directly in the face, and at that precise moment, her entire head exploded. Travis saw her facial image deconstruct, as her head shredded apart from the blast of the gun. Her corpse flopped to the ground, and he watched her body twitch one last time. Travis gripped his Katana sword and plundged it into her back to make sure that she was dead.

As Travis walked outside, he heard the bartender yelling after him. VanHorton slowly turned, placing his left hand on his holster in case the bartender made any threatening move or happened to be a Telepathian.

Mr.VanHorton, how do vampires or Telepathians get drunk? I’m just curious. I mean, they can’t get drunk from the blood that’s their food how do they get … you know wasted?

VanHorton squinted at the bartender and gave him a half smirk, Gasoline they get drunk from car gasoline. Go to any wasteland or junkyard and you’ll find them ripping out the interiors of old automobiles. But trust me, these vampires can be anywhere. They disguise themselves as humans, but remember, they’re not human, but alien.

Travis VanHorton left town on horseback to reunite with his fellow-Telepathian hunters, in an old, rundown shopping mall to be in a sword fighting tournament.

Travis rode through the large city in which the buildings were deteriorating, street signs had bullet holes and slash marks on them and the gasoline tanks in the old cars had teeth marks on them which ment one thing—Telepathians must have been here.

VanHorton reached a large building which like the rest of the city, its architecture was rotting. The old letters on the building read: BRADBURY SHOPPING CENTER. Rebecca was the first to greet him, then others in his team followed, John Mortinson and Wild Rocket Willy Robertson. He had this nick name ever since the Freedom Fighters kicked him off their force for inadvertently leading a group of Telepathian fighter ships to their home base, where four Freedom Fighters were killed.

They want to start immediately. Travis, is your sword sharpened? Yes, I made sure of it. I killed a Telepathian last night I was lucky she didn’t get control of my mind. I forgot to check her goddame arm.

I hate Telepathians. We all hope the Freedom fighters are doing their job … ain’t that right, Wild Rocket, mister X, Freedom fighter, Rebecca asked, chuckling.

Hey, blow me, you cunt, Wild Rocket responded.

Alright, both of you settle down. This’ my showdown.

Travis looked around. All three layers of the shopping mall were covered with people, cheering, waiting for the moment of the duel to start. Before the sword fight began VanHorton grabbed his sword and slowly and lightly cut his wrist for good luck. VanHorton’s opponent stepped into the ring; withdrew his sword and growled. Madman Masterson was his name and no one had defeated him in his five years of sword fighting.

VanHorton, this’ the final countdown … two men, one evil. I’ve heard about you, Madman. Let’s see that sword of yours. Oh yes it’s a beauty but not for long.

Masterson charged at Travis, raising his sword to block a slash to his gut. VanHorton took a swipe at Masterson’s right arm, striking him but causing only a minor scratch. Masterson growled, his teeth clenched, and extended both arms high in the air. Everyone was looking down on both of them cheering them on.

I sure hope Travis doesn’t screw this one up, even though I hated all those times he sexually abused me before we became a team of Telepathian vampire hunters. We need him, because there’s still is an entire planet filled with them, Rebecca said

John looked at her. Rebecca, that’s what the space pilots do. One of these days we’ll win back our planet and all these vampire mother-fuckers’ll be destroyed.

Sparks began to fly from the swords as the opponents slashed at each other. VanHorton now knew this was a serious struggle. He was worrying about Masterson getting stronger and himself getting weaker by the minute. Masterson swung his sword and struck VanHorton’s sword, and with nearly knocking the weapon out of Travis’ tightly gripped fingers.

VanHorton began to use all the effort he could to overwhelm his opponent. He regained his strength and again took the lead in the fight. VanHorton struck Masterson in the face and the blow knocked the wind out of him. Travis noticed Masterson repeating the words, I need … I need … I want gasoline. I need gasoline.

What did you say? VanHorton asked.

Somebody give me some fucking gasoline! Masteron yelled.

Travis used this opportunity to slice off

Masterson’s arm. The moment the arm hit the ground, the sword fell away from Masterson’s dead fingers.

He shrieked and begged in pure agony. Gasoline, someone! I need gasoline to ease the pain.

Travis watched as Masterson flopped on the ground like a fish out of water. Masterson’s eyes showed an expression of burning pain. VanHorton realized how much pain Masterson was enduring … the agonizing and stinging feeling.

It hurts! My god, it’s hurts, Masterson yelled staggering to get up off the ground. It hurts, goddamnit! he kept repeating, as another arm emerged from the stump.

You’re one of them, aren’t you?

You … you … you know of us?. Masterson gasped unable to speak sensibly.

Know of you? My job’s to hunt and track down your kind.

Spare my, life slayer. Just give me some gasoline to ease the pain.

You nearly killed me. You must think I’m some kind of imbecile.

Travis turned his back toward his wounded opponent, then rapidly turned to face him again. He raised his sword and decapitated Madman Masterson. VanHorton looked upward at the cheering crowd, bent down, picked up Masterson’s head and yelled out: Victory is mine and it always shall be! Travis focused his attention on a man and a woman in the crowd who were arguing over their bets. VanHorton knew that he better stay out of their business.

You,woman, I won my bet, so where’s my payment? the muscular man asked.

I don’t have it with me, but promise I’ll give it to you, the woman said, trying to reason with the man.

Enough. Giving it to me later’s not good enough, the man said, raising his index finger in the air, signaling for his henchmen to take her away as a captured prisoner.

Please, don’t let your men hurt me.

Don’t worry, they’ll take great care of you.

The henchmen placed an iron brank over the woman’s head. Every time she tried to say words, her tonque was bruised from the spikes within the metal mask. The henchmen tightly locked the iron mask and placed a leash and collar around her neck. The muscular man and his henchmen walked out with their prisoner.

Travis, you did it! I knew you could do it! I love … She paused, remembering those fews times he had abused her the first time they met.

Never mind, she said and began to walk away.

Rebecca, wait, Travis said gripping her arm, My life almost ending in that struggle made me realize … Travis looked away, and staring at the decomposing body.

Realize what?

"I’m sorry, Becky, for all those times I mistreated you. I ask for your forgiveness.

I feel it’s an honor to work with a woman like you.

Thank you, Travis. That means a lot, coming from you.

John and Wild Rocket watched as a group of men in torn leather jackets set Masterson’s body on fire with blow torches. One of the men removed Masterson’s sword from the leather case strapped to his back. Raising the sword high in the air, he yelled out, Death to all Telepathians!

They have destroyed our humanity." His words were followed by the cheers from people standing high above each level of the shopping mall.

Where are the horses? Travis asked.

What?

"The horses … Rebecca, we should leave now. We’ve got a job to do.

There are probably a lot more Masterson’s out there. Remember, that’s our job.

I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening.

Like always.

They’re this way, Wild Rocket said.

They left the shopping center. Every time Travis saw the ruined city, it made him feel even more depressed. The entire world was once a great place, until the Telepathians destroyed the great cities and nations.

How could he forget the last time he saw him! Even though Travis was only four at the time, he still remembered the day his father left, hugging his mother, smothering her with kisses and then hugging Travis.

Placing a gold medallion in the palm of Travis’ hand, saying: I’ll be back for this, son.

I love you, daddy,

Turning to his wife, he said, Good bye, my love. I’ll be back. Promise to take care of Travis while I’m gone.

Robert.

Yes?

Please be careful I love you.

Robert VanHorton drove off, I’ll return, he yelled from his departing automobile. I love you, daddy, little Travis shouted raising his tiny baby hand high into the air to wave his father good bye. The strong and courageous pilot never returned.

Travis, now a full-grown and bitter man, was recalling glimpses of his past. He pulled the medallion his father had given him from his pocket.

I hate them all, he said, his eyes looking like a flaming stone, filled with pure hatred, They’re the ones for my misery and for everyone’s misery.

Travis, I’m sorry about your parents, I truly am. But I can never feel the pain that you feel because I never had any parents.

Travis was reminded of how Rebecca was genetically engineered in a laboratory. A few days after she grew out of her fetus phase and became a healthy newborn, the Telepathian spaceship destroyed everything that humans had spent their entire lives building. Rebecca was only two years old, when a lone guardian looked after her for at least four years until a Telepathian took over his mind, draining his life energy. Ever since then, Rebecca had spent her entire childhood hiding out in ruins, fearing the vampires that could take over minds and capture humans. Even at this young age, Rebecca knew they could also walk in daylight, so for twenty-four hours she hid in fear.

CHAPTER 2

Travis realized that Rebecca had, had even more of a trauamatic childhood. They rode a little way until they came across an old junk yard.

Travis could sense the vampires’ presence. Hunting and killing these predatory creatures was his life, his destiny.

Do you think they’re near by? Wild Rocket asked.

Wait I think I hear something.

What do you hear? Wild rocket asked.

Travis could hear the metal rattling from inside the cars and the sounds of screeching claws slashing their way through metal. Travis slowly got off his horse and grabbed the Katana sword from his back holster.

You sneaky little bastards! You think you can all outsmart a vampire hunter just because you can read minds doesn’t mean you can out smart me, Travis whispered. He could hear the Telepathian chugging down gasoline, followed by a rather large belch. The vampire-like creature lept out at Travis from beneath the automobiles, its face covered with burnt scars. Slash marks on it’s face certainly revealed that the creature had, had a disagreement with its own kind and fought another Telepathian.

Hey, I think I might need the rest of you down here. This guy’s an ugly motherfucker.

The Telepathian took two steps forward. Suddenly from its back two more arms emerged, covered with a slimy substance that dribbled off its skin.

The Telepathian showed its fangs.Large claws emerged from the creature’s toes and dug tightly into the ground. The Telepathian did not speak but only communicated with a high-pitch, shrieking growl and then a low-pitched snarl. The Telepathian coiled its neck, pointed its index finger at Travis and slowly spoke one word of the human language.

Slayer, spoken slowly in a demonic and gurgling voice.

VanHorton looked back at Rebecca and Wild Rocket Willy who were also getting ready for the Telepathian to charge. The vampire creature snarled and again spoke in a gurgling voice. I thirst for your blood.

Each time VanHorton swung his sword at the four-armed beast, it blocked its body by clawing at the razor sharp Katana sword. Wild Rocket Willy grabbed for his gun and fired at the Telepathian. On the bullet’s impact with the creature’s skin a large hole opened up in the center of the vampire’s body.

The creature shrieked in pain, was motionless for a moment. To regain it’s balance, the vampire used its four arms like legs and its two other legs for balance. The Telepathian began to crawl on the ground like an insect. Every time it inched toward the slayers, the newly transformed creature moved with rapid intensity.

Rebecca, toss me your net.

She threw the net in Travis’ direction, and the Telepathian leaped in Rebecca’s direction. The beast swatted at her, scratching the top of her breast. Travis threw the net on the rampid beast. The vampire tried in everyway to claw itself out of the net but only succeeded in tumbling back onto the ground with every attempt. Travis swiped his Katana sword and sliced off its fingers with their razor-sharp claws, then plunged the sword into the monster’s neck, cutting its head clean off. A second later tiny worms and insects began to crawl out of the vampire’s neck and three centipedes crawled through the crowds of insects and worms. Travis went to Rebecca’s aid.

"Rebecca I’m so