BROADCASTS.com

b'Episode Notes
The Last Taibon by Rob Fields
Buy the new "Babysitter Massacre" book! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08P4ZF9LG/
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Support Weekly Spooky by donating to their Tip Jar: https://tips.pinecast.com/jar/weekly-spooky
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
WeeklySpooky@gmail.com
Music by Ray Mattis http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcript:
It\\u2019s dark, the middle of winter, and it\\u2019s a fucking blizzard. I\\u2019ve been walking along this highway for a while now, keeping tight hold of my Reebok Pump basketball shoes. I suppose I take great joy in knowing that I\\u2019m walking around in the elements half-naked and barefoot, and am actually quite comfy. Also, I\\u2019m fucking soaked from all the snow. I\\u2019ll have to take my clothes off and let them dry when I can find a place to take shelter. Not the first blizzard I\\u2019ve walked through, and it won\\u2019t be the last.\\xa0
It\\u2019s about an hour before I finally see the lights of what appears to be a tavern. I turn and walk across the snowy parking lot and past several covered cars. I\\u2019m sure there\\u2019ll be people inside waiting out the storm. But I\\u2019m wondering if a certain motherfucker named Richland Jillian will be inside.\\xa0
I open the door and walk in. Of course this fucking place is going to be filled with men. They all look at me, some gawking that I\\u2019m dressed like a slut, while others are probably wondering how long I\\u2019ve been out in the blizzard like this. And, no, I don\\u2019t see Richland Jillian in here. Might as well have a drink before I head back out. Not a single motherfucker in the place says anything to me as I make my way to the bar and sit on a stool.\\xa0
The bartender slowly approaches me. \\u201cCan I . . . help you?\\u201d
I point to the bottle. \\u201cI\\u2019ll take that Fire Water \\u2013 all of it.\\u201d
He just looks at me. \\u201cAll of it?\\u201d
I dig into my tattered jean shorts and pull out some money. Then I slam it onto the bar. \\u201cDid I fucking stutter?!\\u201d
The bartender takes my money and hands me the Fire Water. No asking me for an ID, which is how I like fucking it. After popping the spout off and draining the hot cinnamon liquor, I slam the bottle down and see the looks on everybody\\u2019s faces, especially the bartender\\u2019s.\\xa0
\\u201cYou, um, want anything else?\\u201d he asks me. I point to the unopened bottle of Jim Beam. \\u201cAll of it?\\u201d
Slapping the bar gets that bottle put right in front of me. I open it up and this time enjoy my drink. So delicious . . .\\xa0
Then, one of those motherfuckers finally decides to approach me. I suppose I\\u2019m always asking for this kind of fucking shit since I\\u2019m a blonde who\\u2019s wearing tattered, short denim shorts and an athletic top that\\u2019s only good for covering my small titties. Like I said, I look like a total slut. Unfortunately, I haven\\u2019t been able to wear normal clothes for a very long time. And now . . . I\\u2019m pissed when a guy who looks like he could eat me whole puts his hand on my shoulder.\\xa0
I neither hesitate nor look his way. \\u201cHands off, motherfucker!\\u201d\\xa0
He clamps down on my shoulder now. \\u201cQuite a mouth on you, little girl. Little young to be in here, aintya?\\u201d
I almost swing my bottle to shatter it on his head, but I stop and remember that it\\u2019s Jim Beam. I take hold of his wrist and make him scream in intense pain. Then I turn around and give him a kick that sends him flying across the bar and smashing into the jukebox. Oh well, country music sucks major dick, anyway.\\xa0
I turn around to see a few other so-called men bold enough to come at me. I have no problem picking one up and slamming him right through a table \\u2013 one-handed. I grab the other one and throw him behind bar. He hits the back and falls forward. The rest of the motherfuckers quickly back away.\\xa0
I turn to the bartender and grab him to me. \\u201cNearest town!\\u201d
He gulps when he sees my red eyes and points in the direction. \\u201cStrickfield! Five miles!\\u201d
I let him go. \\u201cThank you.\\u201d
I pick up my Jim Beam and my shoes and head back out into the blizzard.\\xa0
I\\u2019ve finished my Jim Beam by the time I cross into Strickfield. After dropping the bottle in a trash can, I walk around some more. Very few people are out in this blizzard. I do see a few cars on the streets, though. Then I see more bright lights and become excited. It\\u2019s a twenty-four-hour diner! Yeah, Denoyer\\u2019s Grill\\u2019s bound to have some good comfort food. \\xa0
I walk into the diner and get the same looks as the motherfuckers back at the bar. The college boy behind the counter gives me that look. I hold up my wet men\\u2019s basketball shoes for him to see. Then I drop them to the floor and slip into them. The guy smiles. \\u201cYou can sit wherever\\u2019s open.\\u201d
I park my sexy ass at the counter. Minutes later, I get my order. Wow! Now this is a fucking burger! I pick up the huge burger and take a bite. Sure wish I had more Jim Beam to wash it down. The Coke will be just fine. The counter boy keeps stealing peeks at me. Can\\u2019t really blame him. Some of the other patrons in here are staring at me with contempt. Fuck them!
I ask the counter boy, \\u201cYou don\\u2019t have any booze in here, do you?\\u201d
He shakes his head slowly. \\u201cUnlimited soft drink refills is the best I got, Miss.\\u201d
I slide my empty Coke glass to him. \\u201cFine.\\u201d
After I get my refill, I slip my shoes back off and relax some more. The counter guy is still looking at me. \\u201cYou\\u2019re probably wondering what my fucking story is, right?\\u201d
\\u201cMiss, please refrain from using profanity,\\u201d he asks me. \\u201cWe\\u2019ve got other customers in here.\\u201d
I smile a little. \\u201cOkay . . .\\u201d I look at his nametag. \\u201c. . . Martin. Since you asked nicely . . .\\u201d Also, this guy\\u2019s really cute, pretty easy going. I think I kind of like him. \\xa0
\\u201cWhat\\u2019s your name?\\u201d Martin asks.\\xa0
I flash him a sexy smile. \\u201cBella.\\u201d
Martin finally answers my question. \\u201cOkay, Bella . . . I guess you could say I\\u2019m curious, yes. I mean, it ain\\u2019t every day that I meet . . . well . . .\\u201d
\\u201cA hot little devil like me?\\u201d I finish for him. \\u201cI get it. I know I\\u2019m not dressed for that blizzard outside \\u2013 far from it. I\\u2019m cold and wet all over. But when you\\u2019re me, things like blizzards and summer heat don\\u2019t really bother you.\\u201d
\\u201cUm, you\\u2019re not on any kind of drugs, are you?\\u201d Martin asks.\\xa0
I laugh a little. \\u201cI can drink all the booze I want and down a hundred ecstasy tablets. None of that affects me. Not when you\\u2019re not human.\\u201d
Okay, fuckers! Here\\u2019s where you pay attention to what I\\u2019m about to tell you \\u2013 and Martin, instead of wondering when I\\u2019m going to take my clothes off and fuck Martin\\u2019s brains out.\\xa0
As I\\u2019m sure you horror freaks already know, I\\u2019m not a normal girl. I mean, come on . . . a girl like me who looks about seventeen or eighteen doesn\\u2019t just throw around big men like they\\u2019re pillows. And I certainly wouldn\\u2019t be walking around nearly naked in a fucking blizzard, neither. I\\u2019m what you would call a Master Vampire. Or maybe . . . a derivative of one.\\xa0
My story begins around 1889. I came from Shore Village, which would years later become the huge megalopolis known as Shore City. I came from a family that was anything but normal. See, when you\\u2019re a Taibon, you\\u2019re forever fucked. Your life is tied to shit such as magic and the supernatural. You spend your whole fucking life training and fighting this shit. I actually started training under Gramps when I was about four.\\xa0
Every day it was the same fucking shit. Up in the morning . . . breakfast . . . training . . . lunch . . . more training . . . dinner . . . nightly hunting . . . sleep. I was already a trained killer by the age of six \\u2013 and the bitch that I am now. In other words, innocence lost. Even then, I found I was always having to compete with my older brother, Nicholas. It was always a motherfucking rivalry between him and me.\\xa0
Nicholas was a good three years older than me. Still, he would prove to be a way better fighter than me. I\\u2019m not afraid to admit it. Still, he was always so sure of himself that he made it a point to prove it even to me. Probably why he always called me Runt. Still, I could be a pain in his ass, too. Gramps and Grams saw how vicious and clever I could be and called me Little Devil. Anyway, Gramps used our sibling rivalry to make us better fighters. Probably too well. I couldn\\u2019t tell you how many times Gramps had to break us up when we\\u2019d lose our shit and go at each other.\\xa0
Anyway, Nicholas got to be so good at what Gramps taught him, that he was actually good at killing Master Vampires. Master Vampires are quite powerful and are many times older than your average garden variety vampires. The older vampires get, the more powerful they become. I don\\u2019t mind telling you that Master Vampires are harder than fuck to destroy. Still, Nicholas actually surprised Gramps out in the field by taking one down \\u2013 by himself. He understood the vampire weaknesses much better than anyone in our family. The fact that Nicholas liked to face Master Vampires by himself didn\\u2019t sit too well with Gramps. Even I voiced my concerns. Of course, Nicholas didn\\u2019t want to hear me and let me know about it on no uncertain terms. It was shit like that that made me just want to yank his dick off and choke him with it.\\xa0
So . . . Gramps started spending more time with me and working with me himself. Even though Nicholas continued to show his dominance out in the field, I had that gut feeling that he was asking for it. I mean, how long would his luck last? Remember that saying about how no matter how good you are, there\\u2019s always going to be someone else better than you?\\xa0
That someone was Thornton Jillian, who was the worst Master Vampire the Taibon family had ever faced. Jillian was thousands of years old and had slaughtered many of our family, including my own parents. The Taibons were renowned for taking down the supernatural, but Thornton Jillian would prove to be the deadliest motherfucker we\\u2019d ever faced. In fact, he was the reason why I\\u2019m the last Taibon.\\xa0
Th'