Crimson Visions: Industrial Accident

The backhoe operator nodded his head and sang loudly accompanying the music in his headphones, pausing only to take a swing from an Indianapolis Colts branded flask some of the liquor falling into his heavy beard.  He had been more than open to the idea of racking up some overtime before the holidays and was working late pulling up the building’s foundation to make way for whatever five and dime operation would be moving in next.
Heavy concrete and rebar moved from a hole in the ground to another pile with the aid of heavy duty machinery… and they actually pay me for this the man mused with a half drunk grin.

Suddenly the machine’s digger lurched oddly breaking the man’s attention away from his music and drink knowing full well he shouldn’t have hit anything soft for several more feet according to the plans his foreman had provided him with. Looking down into the hole the worker’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as a pale dirt covered hand reached out from beneath the heavy rubble rebar sticking through its wrist.

“SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!!” The man panicked tossing his flask away watching it crash against an oil drum. Looking back to the hole in his horror he realized the hand was gone. Jack squinted mightily, he couldn’t have imagine it.

In a blur something was upon him, all teeth fury and vice like bone cracking grip. Jack kicked and fought as best he could but all his struggles accomplished was kicking the controls wildly sending the machine’s cab spinning like a top and the control arm jerking dangerously. Shooting pain and then numbness spread from Jack’s neck as he felt his strength leaving him.

Then the world and Jack with it if only for a moment was weightless as his body was thrown from the spinning cage in a violent explosion of movement. Looking up as he fell down the hole Jack would never forget those dark burning eyes and the pure hate there. It was short lived though as something dark quickly obscured his vision and the hoe throttled with all of its hydraulic might into the hole and Jack’s waiting body.

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Ripping the rebar from his wrists the kindred snarled loud enough to wake the dead if not for the tumult of the out of control machinery. Focusing the newly stolen blood, the filth covered man watches as the holes knit themselves closed. Looking back over his shoulder he notes the strength of the digging arm lifting the whole rig out of position causing the machine to begin sliding down the hole.

Every so slowly a madman’s gleaming smile begins to spread across the creatures face. He had survived yet another test of his will to live.  Jack hardly sated the kindred's endless hunger but he worked in a pinch after so long an imprisonment.  Satisfied the strange kindred walks nude into the night and down Jackson St.