They’re bouncing off the tight walls and making such a ruckus that every bat should immediately be drawn here. How there isn’t a swarm by the time the last coin drops is a total mystery.

And the worst is yet to come.

I finally find the little girl lying on a dense pile of treasure. Her young chest has been split right down the bloody middle. The only piece not covered with splatter is her innocent face. The image of these monsters feasting on her, like the cherry on a shit-covered sundae, has a physical effect on me.

If you’ve never seen vampire vomit, trust me, it’s not pretty. Collapsed in a puddle of cherry-red puke really forces me to digest (for lack of a better word) the bitter unfairness of it all. These abominations have lived dozens of li...

Please subscribe to keep reading.