Undead Warning Part 2

Undead Warning part 2,

“What was that?” asked the Times Reporter.

“I said that its getting late, its 7:40, and I have the strangest compulsion to have this finished before 9:ooam” I replied.

” When I came to I was taken off the back of an Iraqi truck and deposited on the desert sand, rather less than gently, along with Gunney and Sparks. Sparks was in a lot of pain due to the size of the hole in his leg, and had lost a good deal of blood. Despite his three wounds Gunney was in the best shape of the three of us.

I looked about at where we were, trying to get my bearings when I noticed the building in front of us. If this is a p.o.w. prison it was one of the swankist I ever saw.

“jee-zuz, Cappy,” Sparks said, “If the inside is as plush as the outside this may not be so bad.”

“Dont bet on it, Sparks, This is probably just a pit stop until they take us to the hellhole we are gonna call home…Where’s Topp?” I asked.

“Didnt make it,” chimed in Gunney,” He died while you were out of it and these bastards just threw him off the truck. They said something about only bringin’ in the live ones.”

Gunney spoke the best Erdu of us so I knew better than to question him further.

The English speaking Iraqi captain came out and started ushering us into the building, I had the strangest feeling he didnt want to be here long.

“I do not envy you, captain,” He said in his Citadel accented english.

“oh, I suppose we’re to be handed over to your Iraqi inquisitors, eh?” I asked.

“No,” He replied, “In fact the people we are going to hand you over to are Saudi.”

“Saudi,” I thought, “they’re ‘sposed to be on our side!”

“We were taken inside and when the blast of conditioned air hit us I was lulled into thinking maybe this wouldn’t be to bad.

Almost immeadiately a tall black turbaned hawk-nosed Saudi came in and gestured to Gunney and they took him away. Sparks and I were chained together to a massive marble column. Which I thought was rather redundant as our wounds kept us from even hoping to escape.”

“Maybe an hour or less later the Iraqi captain came in and despite the air conditioning I noticed he was sweating profusely.”

“What have you done with Gunney?” I asked.

“Didnt tell you a damn thing did he?” I said.

“Im afraid your seargent didn’t make it, uhh, he died from his wounds…” Now Im a good judge of people and I could tell right away the mother fucker was lying.

“Bullshit!” I cried. ” his wounds weren’t that bad, what did you do with him?”

“I did nothing, but Bin Laden……” The Iraqi knew he had said too much and all of the sudden I placed the name to the hawk-nosed face! Osama Bin Laden, the Saudi-Arabian millionaire whom we had trained a few years back to help the Afghans overthrow the Soviet yoke that had been strangling their country for ten years.

“I have said too much!!!” Cried the Iraqi, “Make your peace with your god, American, I must go!” And with that he literally fled the building.

“What the fuck!” I turned to Sparks and said, “What in the name of Heaven is goin’ on?”

“Nothing in the name of Heaven, captain..” I turned toward the speaker and came face to face with the speaker. His robes were stained with blood and I could tell it was not his. He turned and gestured to the two lackeys he had with him.

“He will be yours and the captain is mine,” Bin Laden said in Arabic. I understood enough of his language to know what he said but I was still not ready for what happened next. In a blur the two fell on Sparks and started ripping at his throat and neck. Bin Laden turned to me and said over Sparks’ screams, “Die American!”

I will never forget the extended fangs and his horrid breath as he grabed me and ripped into my neck!

“Wait a minute!”Interjected the Times reporter…

“Your’e saying that Osama Bin Laden, the mastermind of the 1993 failed World Trade Center bombing is a vampire!”

“Hear me out, you must hear the rest!” I implored.

“All right, all right, lets just say for ha-ha’s that he is, how did you survive?” The Times man said.

I pulled down the jumpsuit and showed the reporter the scars on my throat, which he probably dismissed as a war wound.

“It was then that a b-52 strike hit the area,” I went on,”And I guess that was the only thing that saved me, but please listen, since he bit me I have had some kind of connection with Bin Laden, I seemed to know what he was going to do in ’93, and I know he’s up to something again, you must warn people!!!!”

By now my voice had gotten loud enough to awaken the hall guard and he came stumbling to the door.

“Sompin’ wrong in here, why you carry on lak dat, Cap’n?” mumbled the guard sleepily.

“Let me out of here!”said the Times reporter, “Ive wasted enough of my valuable time with this crazy fool!”

“Wait , please, You must listen,” I sobbed as the Times man yanked his sleeve from my grasp. “Poor idiot,”I heard him say as the guard locked the door behind him.

” You gotta warn someone! He’s flying in to do great destruction, I know it, I just know it!!!!” I yelled down the hall at the rapidly retreating reporters back. As if to drown out the cries the dim guard turned up the radio at his desk and I could hear the DJ saying, “We’re coming up on the nine o’clock hour here on a bee-u-tee-ful eleventh of September in the great city of New York.