I smell them before I even catch sight of the tents. Licking my lips in anticipation I switch my bag to the other shoulder and approach the tent I know my Scout Leader is in. I slowly run my nails along the tent fabric and whisper "Little pig, little pig. Let me come in."
I hear a shuffling inside the tent and his voice comes from the other side of the door flap. "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin. And who are you calling a pig?" The zipper comes down and Dillon pulls me down on the sleeping bag next to him. He's kinda cute for a human, I guess. Dirty blond hair, eyes the color of dark coffee, body ropey with muscle. Wonder if he'll put up much of a fight? "You're my greedy little piggy." I say with a smirk. Despite my awkward attempt at flirting, he responds with a flurry of kissing and touching. I respond in a way I know is appropriate, but my mind is elsewhere. Distracted by the six little boys in the tents nearby. Only in the most violent sense, of course. I'm a psychopath...not a pedophile. I roll on top of Dillon's eager form. Slowly nibbling my way to his throat, he lets out a quiet moan as I sink my fangs into his soft throat. I take deep swallows of his sweet plasma as I feel the deep, tittering need bubbling its way to the surface. I trace a hand down his chest tantalizingly, pausing at his sternum. His moans of pleasure turn into a shriek that pierces the night as I thrust a fist into his chest. He puts up decent struggle, actually managing to get a hand around my throat before I dig my claws into his heart and pop it like a water balloon.
I hear inquiring young voices, sleepy and confused, outside the tent. Removing my forearm from Dillon's chest cavity, I step out of the tent. The young boys take in the sight of my gore streaked limb and the blood around my mouth.
The oldest boy grabs the two closest to him and frantically starts dragging them along. "Toby! Andrew! C'mon, run! RUN!" Two of the other boys take off in another direction. The most terrified of the six is still rooted to the spot. His body trembles like a sapling in high winds. The fear comes off of him in intoxicating waves.
I bend down into a squat, beckoning to him. "Come here kid. Come to me and it will be quick for you." He approaches me. Still quivering he steps into my embrace. I place my hand in his wispy hair, bending his head back. My fangs penetrate his soft neck and I let the sweet nectar run into my mouth for several moments. He whimpers in pain, and I reply: "Shut it. I said I'd make it quick." through a mouthful of his flesh. Pulling my face away from his I snap his neck in a brisk movement. The young body falls to the ground and I straighten myself and tilt my head to the wind, breathing in deeply. The two boys haven't gotten far. They went with the tactic of hiding rather than trying to run for help. I reach back into the tent and grab my bag, pulling out a collapsible steel truncheon and a wrist crossbow. I'm fairly excited to use the crossbow. It's crude but I need something to hinder one while I'm dealing with the other. Trekking further through the trees, I follow the sharp scent of the boys terror. I find one at the bottom of a tall pine. He doesn't see me so I scan the area for the other boy. I smell him but...wait. Looking up in the tree I see the older of the two perched on a branch with a heavy looking rock in his hands. Oh what endearing little Cub Scouts! I suppose they were planning to attempt an ambush. Too cute. I point my crossbow into the tree, centering in between rock boys eyes. I let the steel tipped mini arrow fly. Bulls eye. His corpse falls from the tree onto the ground in front of the other boy. The boy opens his mouth to scream and I'm in front of him in an instant, whipping the truncheon across his face, knocking out most of his teeth and turning his screams into warbling. Theatrically, I taunt the child. "Are you trying to sing me a song, boy? What will your mommy and daddy sing when they find your carcass?" I grab him by the shoulders and bite into his throat, tearing a large chunk of flesh away. His jugular sprays me with fresh blood and I toss him to the side to let him bleed out into the dirt. I nudge the other boy with my toe. Ok. No more crossbow. Too quick and boring. I let my nose take in the aroma of the other three boys, a bit further in the opposite direction. I set off after them at a brisk pace, but not a full run. I want them to feel that flicker of hope that they might get out alive. Pawing through my bag as I trot along I stow the blood stained truncheon and crossbow and grab my taser. Perfect. Enough juice to subdue, but not kill. Not until I'm ready.
I hear the boys sneakers thudding through the loam and the frantic beating of their hearts as I close in on them. I point my taser at the slower of the three and take him down as I leap into a tackle and land on the back of the skinniest boy. The oldest makes it past me, stumbles a few times when he dares to look back but rights himself and darts deeper into the woods. That's fine, I've got all night. I rise from the dirt, pulling the boy along with me to stop in front of his friend, still dazed from the taser shot. "Yoohoo, Toby. Here's a sneak peek of what's coming to you. Spoiler alert: you're going to die." I force my captive to his knees and place the tips of my nails along his jawline. In one vicious movement I dig the nails in and pull up, stripping the flesh of his face from his skull. They boys are shrieking in surround sound as I bend down to lap the blood from the top of his forehead. I giggle and pull a blade from my bag. I quickly deliver a dozen stabs to the boys chest before moving to the tasered boy. He must of bounced back quick because he lands a punch to my ribs before I convey a kick that shatters his femur, forcing the fractured bone deliciously through the skin. I squat over his fallen figure, crushing his flailing arms under my feet. I draw the blade across his throat, cutting deep, almost decapitating him but not quite. Digging my hand into the wound I reach up and pull the root of the tongue through the opening. I've always wondered what a Colombian necktie looked like. I double over in laughter. Leaping to my feet, I once again stow my blade for a simple length of fishing line. This last one will be an easy find. I catch the last boy easily. He's winded, and doesn't even notice I'm there until I slip the fishing line around his neck and pull it taut. I hold it long enough for his face to turn from red to a deep purple as he drops to his knees unconscious. I release the line and shove it in my pocket while flipping the boy onto his stomach. I procure my filleting knife from my back and make brisk, broad incisions along his spine. Once the spine is exposed I gnaw away the ligaments and such that attach the spinal cord to the rest of his parts. The boy groans from underneath me, rising from unconsciousness. "Oh no you don't. You're not messing up my beautiful work!" I wrench the spinal cord from his back and swing it against his head, over and over until his skull is pulverized by his own back bone. I stand, shaking clots of flesh and slivers of bone from my hair as I ponder my options. Decision made, I collect both boys and heft them over my shoulder, smiling as I head back to the camp area. Within a half hour I have all six boys reconvened. Humming an old Johnny Mathis tune to myself I pull coils of heavy rope from my bag, tying off a line of it in between two trees. I lift and tether, using craftiness that Cub Scout leader Dillon would be proud of. With three hours until dawn my work is done. I make sure all of my toys are packed away as I heft my bag onto my should and take off towards civilization. The daisy chain of Cub Scouts swaying gently in between the trees.
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