A Silent Night

A Silent Night

A Chapter by North Dakota

An average strike mission goes awry...


Two black vans with tinted windows pulled onto the curb of a dark suburban home. It was a silent October night with nothing but the subdued purr of the engines to break the silence. The large white house towered over the city street, rising above the smaller homes in the distance, but still dwarfing in size to the city apartment buildings that dotted the horizon. There were three entrances to the home: the front door, the back door, and a basement door to the right of the front porch. Not very shockingly, the front door had been kicked inwards off its hinges and now rested on the hardwood floor of the home. The men knew what to expect, but unfortunately, the victim hadn’t.

The hum of the engine abruptly died down, leaving nothing but silence. Suddenly, the doors of the dark vans slid open, revealing seven men in riot gear carrying assault rifles. The soldiers and one of the drivers swiftly exited the vehicles, hastily standing at attention on the sidewalk in front of the home. The other driver slowly opened his door, taking his time as he meandered his way to the front of the formation the men had made. The relaxed driver stood in front of the men, taking leadership.

“Alpha team,” he held one hand in the air as he spoke, directing his orders with hand signs, “front door.” He quickly snapped his hand forward, directing the four.

“Bravo, back door. I’ll take the basement.” The man’s voice came slightly muffled through his helmet, but his orders were clear. As the squads rushed past him, he descended a stone staircase that lead to a pitch-black basement. The two squads quickly took position on either side of their specific door, ready to breach. The leader took hold of the knob, pleased to find it unlocked. With one hand on the door, he used the other to press the button on his shoulder-mounted walkie-talkie.

“Bust in on three,” the leader spoke over the radio. “One… two… three!” With a swift motion, he swung the door open, then scanned the room with his flashlight. A loud thump from the back of the house followed, so he assumed the other squads were successful in gaining access as well.

The leader cautiously scanned the room with his light in one hand and a pistol in the other. He stumbled about in the dark until he came to a light switch. He flicked the small but massively helpful switch and found himself bathed in a dim glow.

“All clear down here, what about upstairs?” The leader spoke over the radio that was attached to his shoulder.

“Back door’s clear, continuing through,” Bravo squad replied.

“All’s good up here,” Alpha squad confidently responded. With a nod, the leader continued through the large basement, checking any hiding places before moving on.

“Lieutenant White?” The squad leader of Bravo spoke over the radio to the driver as he bent over to check behind a pile of assorted furniture. The leader straightened up and pressed the button.

“Listening,” the leader answered the call.

“We’ve located the victim, sir,” a member of Bravo squad reported.

“What condition, Jones?” he nonchalantly inquired about the corpse, recognizing the private’s voice.

“Torn up pretty badly. Neck ripped open like a can of tuna. Plus, scratches and cuts all over the body; there was definitely a struggle before it happened.” The lieutenant shook his head as he ascended the basement stairs to find himself in the living room with Alpha squad.

“May he rest in peace,” the leader commented as he surveyed the room.

“Lieutenant White, we’re getting some disturbance in here.” Bravo squad’s leader spoke over the radio, even though his proximity allowed the lieutenant to hear a small echo of his voice without it.

“From where?” White questioned as he led the troops towards the kitchen.

“The pantry, something’s rattling around in there.”

“Sit tight, we’ll meet on you,” he muttered as he lead the squad into the far section of the home.

The lieutenant entered the spacious kitchen, only to be greeted by the victim’s body slammed into the wall with his neck at a 90-degree angle from his body. Before he could further investigate, a rattling came from behind the pantry door. He spun on his heels and looked toward the leader of Bravo squad, who seemed to be seeking orders.

“Alright, take firing positions,” he ordered the men as he walked towards the door. The eight all took aim, some dropping to one knee.  With an air of courage, White gripped the handle of the door, then swiftly flung it open, to reveal the one thing that horrified the lieutenant.

“Shoot it! Shoot it, now!” he shouted in panic as he practically leapt away from the door, drawing his sidearm and firing two shots into the cupboard.

“Sir… I think you might be overreacting,” one of the privates stated as a large rat leaped off of one of the pantry shelves and onto the floor. It quickly scurried from the pantry, eventually finding its way out the front door.

In his panicked stumbling, the leader had tripped himself and fallen to the ground.

“I. Do not. Deal. With rats,” he bitterly commented.

“Taylor, I seriously don’t think we get paid to murder rodents,” a corporal of Alpha reminded his leader with a confident smirk. Taylor took a deep breath as he composed himself once more.

“Swear to god, this is the s**t they should send Mordecai for.” Taylor gave a spiteful sigh, irritated in the fact that his phobia had been triggered.  “Anyway, move ou--” His order was cut off by a sudden scream from Private Jones, who was abruptly dragged from the room by the back of his neck.

“S**t! Jones!” Smith, the leader of Bravo, shouted as he chased after the kidnaper, followed by the remainder of the squads.

“Let ‘im go!” Taylor shouted at the top of his lungs, rifle drawn and aimed toward the creature who now held the young man in his grip. Taylor saw panic in the vampire’s eyes; he was searching for a way out. With one arm wrapped around the private’s throat, and the other raising the hand that held the boy’s rifle above his head, the vampire used the hostage as a shield. The lieutenant and his squads kept a bead on the creature, all searching for a clear shot that wouldn’t harm the private.

The group stood there for at least a minute, none daring to move, fearing the actions of the other.

“Listen here, friend,” Taylor piped up, his southern drawl forcing its way to the surface. “Put the boy down before I make you put ‘im down!” The lieutenant took a step forward as he made his demand, leaving about four feet between him and the hostage. In a movement that lasted no longer than a few seconds, the vampire let go of the boy’s arm, causing both his limb and the rifle to fall. Plucking the firearm from the air with his newly-freed arm, the creature swept the room with a stream of silver bullets, catching Smith in the shoulder with a stray shot.

All took cover, rolling and jumping behind whatever sturdy object they could find as the next wave of randomized shots came. Taylor was barely spared from the first wave, as the bullet intended for him caught him on the side of the helmet and took a large chip out of it, but thankfully took no flesh with it. Before the secondary bombardment came, the lieutenant leaped behind the couch with the wounded Smith, and two privates of Alpha. With his back to the sofa, Taylor raised his eyes to the ceiling, displaying what most would call his “thinking” face.

A bright, shining bullet ripped through the back of the couch, finding a home in the wall across from Taylor.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Smith shouted, demanding to know why Taylor was motionless. The leader raised a finger to his lips without dropping the pondering demeanor. Another barrage came, only this time, Taylor began poking at the air, mentally arranging something only he understood at the time.

“28.. 29… hang on.” Taylor, with rifle in hand, momentarily popped his head above the couch that had hid him, only to duck once more to dodge another oncoming projectile. “And that makes 30!” Taylor once again popped above the couch, only this time, he kept the rifle on the creature.

“What are you--” the vampire quickly discovered the method behind the lieutenant's madness as a light clicking was substituted in place of the thunderous shots. Taylor had been counting the bullets.

“Jones, get down.” Taylor ordered in a steely, commanding voice. Taking advantage of the creature’s confusion and dismay, the private was able to weasel his way out of the hold and stumble to the kitchen. With wide eyes, the grave realization was made as Taylor fired a three-round burst. Two of the shots pierced the vampire’s right arm, and the other landed within his gut, forcing a yelp of anguish out of him as he retreated down the hallway.

“Alright, boys, listen up.” Taylor turned to address the surviving soldiers. “Anybody got any new holes?” Taylor questioned, raising an invisible eyebrow as he awaited a response. One hand slowly crept up from the upturned coffee table. “Alright, somebody deal with that. For the rest of us,” Taylor dropped his clip to the ground then quickly slammed a new mag in, only this new one had a yellow cross printed on the side of it. “switch to blessed bullets. We’re tryin’ to take captives, not corpses.”  

The squads, not having been informed of this non-lethal objective, were quite confused, but obediently followed the orders nonetheless. After hearing the synchronous sounds of clips entering and exiting, Taylor slowly led his troops down the hall, coming to four doors at the very end of the corridor. The lieutenant gripped the knob of the first door to his left, flung it open, then stepped back to survey; it had merely been a barren bathroom.

He doubly repeated the motion to his right, only to find a closet and a bedroom, neither of which held their future prisoner. Realizing that the vampire was in this final room, the troops readied themselves preemptively, once again taking firing positions. Taylor jiggled the knob, only to find it locked.

“Figures… “ Taylor sighed. “Hey, friend, listen here. You come quietly, we won’t have to hurt ya anymore. Okay? Unlock the door or we’re comin’ in there.” The leader gave him a few moments, then shrugged, letting a grin slide across his face as he did so. “Can’t say I never tried diplomacy… “ Taylor shot the lock, blasting the mechanism apart and leaving the door to slowly drift open. With a firm push from the stock of his rifle, Taylor knocked the door fully open and stepped inside, finding himself surprisingly alone.

“What the hell?!” he indignantly exclaimed as he observed the room around him. “Oh, great. Apparently, David Copperfield became a vampire!” Taylor threw his head back in frustration, sighing.

After a moment of staring up at it, Taylor was sure his eyes weren’t tricking him. The vampire that they had been searching for was currently stretched across the ceiling, arms and legs extended wall-to-wall to suspend himself.

“Huh… ain’t that somethin’... “ he mumbled as the creature fell upon him, attempting a last ditch effort at escape. Taylor cracked the creature in the face with the side of the rifle, using it as a barrier between them. Now struggling with the lieutenant, the vampire caught a bullet to the neck. Unlike the silver, it didn’t scorch his skin, but it did its damage. Gripping the hole, the creature turned to see the entire group aiming directly at him. He slowly raised his hands in surrender, but that didn’t stop them.

All together, they fired six more bullets, two landing in the gut, three in the shoulder, and one in the cheek. After the short barrage ended, Taylor brought his knees to his chest, placed his feet on the vampire’s side, and then launched him into the far wall, making an awful racket as he did so.

“Give ‘em the heave-ho, boys!” Taylor impishly ordered, grinning as he watched the men rush in. Two gripped the left arm, two gripped the right, while the other two literally threw him to the ground and stood on top of him to keep him from getting up. Fighting fatigue, injury, and attrition, the vampire finally surrendered, allowing his body to go limp as a pair of silver handcuffs were placed on him. He weakly hissed, finding the dull sting to be quite irritating.

The boys lifted him to his feet, two holding him by the shoulders while another two stood behind him, barrels buried in his back. Taylor finally stood, gripping the bottom of his helmet and roughly ripping it off with a relieved sigh.

“Ugh, finally.” He ran a hand through his faded crew-cut. “Alright. Get ‘im outta here. I got work to do,” Taylor said as he produced a small notebook from his back pocket and began his damage report. The men marched the prisoner out of the house, leaving Taylor to saunter about the house, scribbling notes as he wandered.

Ten minutes later, the vans were back on the road, with the captive in Taylor’s care. Alpha squad all sat on the bench across from the vampire, some staring him down, some desperately avoiding eye contact. Cooper, one of the avoiding ones, couldn’t help but steal a glance at him every now and again. The bullet holes were healing, but it was a slow process. She never quite understood how, but blessed bullets wouldn’t kill, they would do enough damage to incapacitate instead. The “vampire taser” as Mordecai had called it. The creature’s body was riddled with holes that were visibly healing around the bullet, either forcing the foreign material out or growing around it; it was a fascinating process to say the least. The vampire had caught her staring, causing Cooper to meekly glance at her own feet, feeling guilty for gawking.

The creature sighed, throwing his head back against the interior of the van. With a breath, he shifted a brown, blood-caked lock of hair out of his eyes.

“So, why’d ya do it?” Oscar, the tallest(and cockiest) of the group inquired.

“Do what?” the undead boy spoke for the first time, taking them aback with the youth in his voice. Taylor, eavesdropping from the front, speculated that the boy couldn’t have been older than his mid-twenties.

“Why’d ya snap his neck like a glow stick?” For a moment, the vampire went silent once more, looking as if he wanted to answer, but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Oscar, pipe down.” Sergeant Mason, a grizzled man who sounded like he gargled gravel for breakfast, ordered.

The vampire licked his lips, gulping and looking quite uncomfortable.

“Hey, don’t be thinking about any of that, alright?” Hayes, a woman even shorter than Cooper, but built like a brick house, commented. “I don’t plan on making any blood bank donations today.”

“I’m thirsty…” the vampire muttered.

“What, didn’t get enough to eat back there?” Oscar once again questioned, much to Mason’s irritation.

“Not like that… idiot,” he mumbled out, seeming to barely stay conscious. Cooper, with a concerned glance, reached underneath her seat to find a crate full of supplies. She sifted through the crate’s contents until she found a small standard-issue water canteen. The others watched her, all with confused or amused looks on their faces.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Oscar questioned, something he did a lot of.

“He said he was thirsty… “ She meekly replied, not making eye contact.

“Yeah, and I said I wanted a dog when I was ten. We don’t all get what we want, chica,” Hayes retorted, snorting as she did so.

Cooper ignored them, crossing over to the other bench and finding a seat beside the young vampire. He turned to look at her, his eyes beginning to cloud.
“Here,” she said, twisting the cap off of and lifting the canteen to his lips. He leaned forward, greedily lapping up the water. She waited to pull the canteen back, but he had drained the entire thing, gulping loudly as he quenched his thirst. The moment he finished, he let out a loud, relieved sigh, throwing his head back once more and muttering a “thank you” before falling asleep moments later.

Cooper smiled, finding it kind of silly to see a vampire act this way. However, her smile quickly drained away once she returned to the disapproving faces of her squad. With a nervous laugh, she lowered her head once more, begging for the van to arrive at base as soon as possible.

© 2017 North Dakota

Author's Note

North Dakota
Hope you all enjoy, as always, thank you for reading, and feel free to comment!

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Added on March 13, 2016
Last Updated on March 30, 2017


North Dakota
North Dakota


I'm an amateur author who enjoys writing more than anything. I hope to improve my writing style and etiquette through the criticism of others. So, any review or criticism would be greatly appreciated,.. more..