Rayne on the Submarine
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
The gory details of the submarine ride in Bloodrayne


AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you've ever played Bloodrayne (the first game), there's a
scene where Rayne sneaks on board a Nazi submarine. When the sub arrives at
its destination, the entire crew is dead. This story goes into what the game
skipped and explores in depth how things might have gone down...

This is solely a work of fan fiction. I do not own Bloodrayne or anything
related to the franchise. This story contains sexuality and extreme violence.
NOT for children or sensitive adults.

* * *

ARGENTINA, 1938

The secret Nazi base was in chaos, courtesy of the lethal handiwork of the
sexy female half-human, half-vampire BloodRayne. Dead male bodies, soldiers
and scientists, hundreds and hundreds of them, were strewn everywhere. It was
hard to take ten steps without encountering a pool of blood, a pile of guts, a
severed arm, leg, or head, or a torso with nothing else attached to it.

The few survivors were fleeing in terror, towards the two submarines in the
docking bay. Years of scientific research towards the secret doomsday project,
as well as piles of precious military supplies, were left behind as the men
ran, only one thought on their minds: Getting away from this terrifying maiden
of death and her superhuman killing powers.

A young soldier was running for his life like the others. He was a private,
just eighteen years old, his pride at having received this prestigious
assignment to the secret base now replaced with pure terror and a wish that he
was back on some boring guard duty in the Fatherland. As he drew closer to the
subs, he allowed himself a faint glimmer of hope...until the unmistakable
figure of Rayne dropped down from the ceiling, not three feet in front of him.
Warm liquid wet his groin and traveled down his legs as he pissed himself.

"What's the rush, baby?" she cooed. Then, literally faster than the blink of
an eye, she lashed out with one of her wrist blades, impaling him through the
center of his chest. He collapsed to the cold concrete floor as she withdrew
it. The last thing he saw before he expired was Rayne standing over him,
blowing him a taunting kiss.

From a catwalk high above the docking bay, Rayne watched the Nazis swarming
like ants beneath her. One submarine was already out to sea. Men were racing
towards the second sub, disappearing one by one down the hatch.

She picked up a submachine gun from a headless corpse next to her. Her
markswomanship was deadly. She killed a dozen men with well-aimed bursts of
two or three rounds at a time before the gun ran out of ammunition. As bodies
fell, the hatch door was pulled shut from the inside and locked with a click.
Three survivors trapped outside began frantically pounding on the metal door,
to no avail.

Rayne tossed her empty machine gun aside and jumped down from the catwalk,
completely unharmed by the twenty-foot drop. Landing neatly on her high heels,
she began advancing on the three men. As she approached them, they stopped
hammering on the door and got on their knees, begging for mercy.

"I'm just a working guy..."

"Please! I have a wife and kids..."

"I didn't sign up for this..."

She simply put her blades to work. Two seconds later, what was formerly three
men became about thirty different body parts.

Not even giving the arms, legs, torsos, and heads a second glance, Rayne
stepped over them and bent over the hatch door. The submarine was already on
its way to sea. In a few moments it would dive.

She inserted one of her blades into the locking mechanism. With expert skill,
she maneuvered the sword until the device unlatched with a click.
Triumphantly, she opened the door and slipped inside, closing the door above
her head a second before she felt the sub begin its descent beneath the waves.
As she made her way smoothly down the ladder, she smiled, her bloody fangs
showing.

Pausing at the bottom of the ladder, she looked around. She was in a small
room cluttered with equipment. A lone sailor stood with his back to her,
pressing buttons. Smirking as she snuck up on him from behind, she began
spinning her right wrist blade, moving it superhumanly fast. When it impacted
her victim, his body was instantly shredded into at least a hundred pieces.
Blood flew everywhere. She caught some of it in her mouth, licking her full,
pouty lips.

There was a mirror in the room. Rayne paused to admire herself in it - being
half human, her reflection did show up. Already tall at 5'10", her knee-high
black leather boots with razor-sharp stiletto high heels brought her height to
well over six feet. Skintight black leather pants, a black and red sleeveless
leather top, and elbow-length long black leather gloves, all stained with
blood, completed her outfit. Her slender 130-pound frame was still decidedly
muscular, powerful but feminine. She had an hourglass figure with a round,
well-developed ass, a wasp waist, and large, firm breasts straining to break
free of her cleavage-displaying top. Her hard six-pack abs were visible
between her short top and low-cut pants.

She flexed her biceps. Her upper arms were perfect - big enough to give her a
dominant look while not being so big that they looked disproportionate on her
slim frame. She was fit enough that her arms had visible muscle tone even when
she wasn't flexing. Her face was elegant and high-cheekboned. Combined with
her beautiful, flowing shoulder-length red hair and green eyes, she could have
been a model. Her skin had a surprisingly dark tan - the half-human was not
bothered by sunlight. Though several hundred years old, she had the appearance
of a woman in her early twenties.

Rayne heard footsteps approaching. With the skill and speed of a trained
commando, she readied her blades and flattened herself against the wall. The
door next to her opened and two soldiers walked in. Their mouths dropped open
in shock and fear when they saw the carnage, but before they could even make a
sound Rayne had decapitated both of them with a single swift swing of her left
blade. As the headless bodies slumped to the floor, she picked up the
submachine guns they had been carrying and slung them over her shoulders.
After grabbing several spare magazines of ammunition and putting them in her
pockets, she headed out of the room and down a narrow corridor.

She heard someone coming up behind her. With strength, speed, and grace that
would have made any Olympic gymnast jealous, she leapt up, grabbed an overhead
pipe, and pressed her body parallel to the ceiling. A man in a white lab coat
appeared, engrossed in a clipboard he was holding. She waited until he was
directly underneath her, then dropped down suddenly, landing on his shoulders
with her slender, muscular thighs around his neck and her crotch right in his
face. Before he could do anything, she twisted her athletic hips 180 degrees,
snapping his neck like a dry twig. She tossed the corpse into the small room
with the three other bodies, then continued on her way.

Rayne headed towards the sleeping quarters, where the men not on duty would be
resting. It would be only a matter of time before she was discovered, and she
was intent on making sure that as few men as possible were alive when that
happened. On her way, she encountered another sailor. She swept out with her
leg, tripping him to the floor, then stomped hard on his chest with her booted
foot, driving her razor-sharp stiletto high heel straight through his heart.
She tossed the corpse into a closet.

She approached the door to the first sleeping-room, cautiously checking to
make sure no one was watching. She opened the door and silently slipped
inside. The room was small and shipshape, shared by six men. Three-tiered bunk
beds were on each side. A snoring man lay in each bed.

She went to work. Two she stabbed through the heart, two more she decapitated.
The last two she simply grabbed by the neck with her leather-gloved hands,
then used quick flicks of her muscular wrists to snap their necks one-handed.
Her face was emotionless as she exited the room and moved on to the next. This
time, she wasn't so neat. She used her blades to slice and dice the next six
men into sixty pieces. She licked the blood off her weapons when she was
finished.

In the third room, the six sailors were awake and sitting in a circle on the
floor, playing cards. Only one was directly facing her. His mouth dropped open
in alarm. Before any sound could come out, however, Rayne detached one of her
blades from her wrist and hurled it at him with perfect accuracy. It lodged in
his throat and he collapsed to the floor.

She took advantage of the few moments she had as the other men's brains were
processing what was happening. She swiftly cartwheeled over to them, executing
four perfect cartwheels in a row in less than a second, decapitated one sailor
with her remaining blade, and broke another's neck with a kick to his face
before the last three realized the mortal danger they were in. As they stood
up, Rayne lashed out with her long, elegant leg, tripping them all to the
floor in a tangled heap. She then stomped hard on the first man's skull with
her big black size 10 boot, driving her high heel straight into his brain and
withdrawing it with a squishing sound. She jumped on the next sailor and drew
back her leather-gloved fist. She landed the blow, her fist shattering his
skull like a burst melon.

The last man lay on the ground, quivering in terror and praying to his God.
Rayne smiled down at him seductively, holding a finger to her red lips. He
stopped talking and looked at her, pleading for mercy with his eyes. She
leaned closer to him, as if to give him a kiss.

Then she suddenly opened her mouth, revealing her razor-sharp fangs, and bit
into him, ripping his throat wide open. She drank his blood noisily and
messily. When her hunger was finally satiated for the moment, she pulled her
head up, licked her lips, reattached her thrown blade to her wrist, and
nonchalantly walked out of the room.

The remaining barracks were empty. Rayne then moved on to the officers'
quarters. Because of the lack of space on board the submarine, the junior
officers had to bunk two to a room. Only the captain and executive officer had
their own rooms.

She found two junior officers asleep in one room. She cleaved in half with her
wrist blade the head of the man in the top bunk. Then she stomped on the chest
of the officer in the bottom bunk dozens of times with her stiletto heels,
turning his torso into Swiss cheese.

Rayne swiftly checked the remaining staterooms, finding no one else. The
captain's and executive officer's rooms were empty too. She sighed, a little
disappointed, but brightened at the thought of saving them for later and
giving them particularly gory deaths.

As she exited the captain's quarters, an alarm began blaring. Male shouts
could be heard in the distance. Rayne grinned to herself wickedly. "Looks like
my handiwork's been discovered." She readied her submachine guns in her
leather-gloved hands and flicked the safeties off. "Time for some more fucking
carnage."

She didn't have to wait long. Two men came around a corner, firing pistols.
She felt a sting on her shoulder and retaliated with a single shot from each
of her guns, shooting both of her opponents straight through the heart. As
they dropped dead like two sacks of potatoes, she looked at her shoulder. The
9mm pistol round that had impacted there had done only minor damage and healed
completely in a few seconds, courtesy of her vampire powers. She smirked.

Rayne moved swiftly through the corridors, casually shooting a man in the head
on her way as he tried and failed to take her by surprise. After moving
through several twisting passageways, she found herself directly behind an
unsuspecting sailor. Her green eyes lit up as she got an idea. She held out
one of her wrist blades horizontally in front of her, positioning it between
his legs right underneath his groin.

The sailor sensed that something was amiss. He glanced down and saw Rayne's
waiting blade. At that moment, she yanked her arm upward, slicing her helpless
victim in half vertically from his crotch to the top of his head. She walked
between the two falling halves and continued on down the passage, her high
heels clicking on the floor.

She rounded a corner...and stopped in surprise. Waiting at the other end of a
long, narrow corridor, about a hundred feet away, were two soldiers manning a
heavy machine gun.

"GET HER!" screamed one man. Rayne elegantly backflipped to them, starting
with a roundoff and going into a series of back handsprings as the gun opened
up. Her flick-flacks were superhumanly fast and perfectly timed so that each
round from the machine gun passed safely between her legs as she was upside
down. She covered the entire distance to them in less than three seconds,
crashing into the men with her last handspring and crushing both their skulls
underneath her booted feet as she landed.

Meanwhile, a large team of 45 men had assembled in a big room in the middle of
the submarine. They were a mix of soldiers and sailors, scientists and
engineers...even cooks had been taken off kitchen duty to participate. "She'll
have to come through here to get to the bridge," said the lieutenant in
command of the group. "There are enough of us that even she won't be able to
handle all of us at once. We'll destroy her with superior firepower and
that'll finally be the end of all this carnage." The officer was trying to
sound confident, but he couldn't hide the fear in his voice. Some of the men,
especially the ones not used to combat, looked even worse.

There were two doors to the large room from Rayne's side of the submarine,
each covered by the guns of half of the men. The lieutenant tried to convince
himself that even Rayne couldn't get past that. Even though he had seen
firsthand what she was capable of, both on the sub and back at the secret
facility. One single girl versus an entire military base. How could the girl
have won?

Unseen by any of the men, a small, square door just beneath the ceiling opened
up and the slender, curvaceous figure of Rayne slipped into the room. Making
good use of the piping hanging from the ceiling, she swung from one pipe to
another with the grace and elegance of a pro-gymnast, making her way to the
center of the room. The heavy machine gun was now strapped to her back, along
with her smaller submachine guns.

Hanging onto a pipe with her left hand, she readied the heavy machine gun in
her right. Although it was meant to be mounted on a tripod when used by normal
humans, Rayne held it without trouble in a single hand.

Then she opened fire on the unsuspecting men below her, her superhumanly
strong wrist able to absorb the heavy recoil. Her accuracy was lethal, the
carnage terrible. Bodies began falling with huge holes in them. Former human
heads were turned into a red and brown goo that had the consistency of chunky
salsa. Some men were literally cut in half by her massive firepower. Eight or
nine men were dead before the rest even realized what was happening.

As the survivors began shooting back at her, Rayne began swinging around and
around on the bar like a gymnast doing an uneven bars routine, only she did it
with just one hand while a normal gymnast used two. Her incredibly fast and
graceful swings made her extremely difficult to hit. Meanwhile, she was still
firing her machine gun with her other hand. She killed a dozen more men with
it before it clicked empty. Dropping the heavy weapon, she drew one of her
submachine guns and resumed killing, dropping five more men to the floor stone
cold dead with a single long burst. At the same time, the falling empty
machine gun landed right on a soldier and crushed him to death.

Suddenly, a lucky barrage of bullets slammed into her arm and hand that were
gripping the bar. With a yelp, Rayne lost her hold and felt herself falling.
She was so talented a warrioress, however, that as she was dropping she took
the opportunity to draw her second submachine gun with her now-free hand and
add to her firepower, killing four more opponents before she hit the floor.

As she stood up, Rayne was hit by bullets from all directions, knocking her
down again. She lay on the floor, bleeding from at least fifteen different
wounds. Her healing powers were great, but not unlimited. The surviving men
shouted in triumph, thinking they had her now, advancing as they continued
firing.

Then most of them ran out of ammo at the same time. Curses were heard as they
frantically tried to reload as fast as possible. A stench filled the room as
several men shit themselves in fear.

Rayne's super-charged survival instincts kicked in. She emptied her submachine
guns into the men that still had loaded weapons. Tossing the weapons aside,
she stumbled to her feet. Her bullet wounds were healing on their own, but she
needed to heal faster. Some of the men had almost finished reloading their
guns.

Rayne let out a shrill, high-pitched battle cry as she performed a front tuck
somersault towards the nearest survivor. Landing a few feet in front of him,
she leapt onto him, biting her helpless victim's neck, feeding on him as the
inflow of blood swiftly healed her wounds. She had cleverly placed him in a
human shield position, and as her opponents finished reloading and opened fire
again, their bullets struck him instead of her.

"Fuck it all! Retreat!" shouted the lieutenant. He knew that their best and
only chance for direct victory over sexy Rayne had come and gone. There were
too few survivors left.

As the men began running away, Rayne impaled her feeding-victim with her wrist
blades, lifted him high into the air, and hurled the body across the room. The
corpse crashed right into a group of several men, including the lieutenant,
knocking them down. She then snatched up the two nearest guns, a pistol and a
shotgun, and began shooting down the other men trying to run away. She had
enough forearm strength to pump the shotgun one-handed easily. In a few
seconds all the running men were dead.

Rayne discarded her guns and turned back to the last survivors in the room,
who were still extracting themselves from underneath the corpse. She threw
herself into a tumbling pass towards them, starting with an aerial cartwheel
and then going into a series of powerful whip backs directly at her victims,
gaining speed as she got closer and closer. For her final flip in her
completely no-handed tumbling pass, she performed a full twisting layout,
kicking two men who had managed to stand up as she rotated through her twist
flip and giving both of them deep, gory, and fatal wounds from her razor-sharp
high heels. She landed perfectly on her feet as the two newest corpses slumped
down. Another man got up and she greeted him by backflip kicking his head off,
again making a perfect landing despite her high heels.

The last three men in the room, the lieutenant and two others, staggered to
their feet. Rayne smiled at them, then put her lethal blades into action. She
sliced one man in half horizontally at the waist with her left blade, then
leapt high into the air and brought her right blade down onto the second man,
chopping him in two vertically from the top of his skull all the way down to
his crotch.

Only the lieutenant was left. He looked at her, not bothering to flee because
he knew he could never outrun her, and not bothering to ask for mercy because
he knew she never gave it.

"One soldier to another, can you at least make it quick, please?" he asked.

Rayne nodded. "I can do that." Without further ado, she cut off his head.

She looked around at the scene of utter carnage in the large room. Male bodies
and pieces of male bodies were everywhere. Despite the massive amount of gore,
she was far too experienced a killer to start showing emotion. Glancing down
at her body to make sure her wounds were fully healed, she grabbed a pair of
weapons - a submachine gun and a shotgun - and headed off into the next
section of the submarine.

Knowing that she had killed most of the engineers and cooks already, she
wasn't expecting much resistance as she made her way towards the engine room
and kitchen. Two crewmen attempted to ambush her in the engine room, but she
killed them easily, blowing both of their heads off with her shotgun.

From there she made her way into the empty-looking mess hall. Her alert ears
detected a faint whimpering coming from underneath a table. Yanking away the
oversized tablecloth covering it, she smiled down at the terrified sailor
hiding there. She dragged him out by his hair. "This is going to hurt you a
lot more than it will me," she giggled. As she spoke, she suddenly kneed him
in the face, the lethal blow landing with such force that his skull was split
wide open and his brains splattered everywhere.

She moved on to the kitchen and heard a noise coming from the refrigerator.
Pulling it open, she discovered a frightened cook hiding inside, holding a
butcher knife.

"You call that a knife? THIS is a knife," said Rayne, showing him one of her
blood-soaked blades, which was much larger than his. Then she stabbed him in
the throat. She laughed to herself as she closed the refrigerator door.

In the kitchen storage room next door, she found a lone soldier, clearly
terrified and shell-shocked, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. "Thirsty, huh?
So am I." With that, she leapt onto him, fangs bared, and plunged them into
his neck, slurping noisily as she drank his blood.

Finally, she came to the door to the bridge. The captain, the executive
officer, and three surviving crewmen had barricaded themselves inside.

On the bridge, the captain was pacing nervously as he shouted into his radio.
"Fuck! No one's reporting in!"

"We have to face it, sir," said the executive officer. "She's killed them all.
We're the only ones left."

The captain sighed. "All right. We go to Plan B, then. We go to the escape
pods and get the fuck off this death trap. I'll contact one of our destroyers
in the area and they can take care of the sub once we're off, then pick us up.
I hate losing the boat, but at least we'll have sent that dhampir bitch to the
bottom of the sea. Get your gear together and open up the secret tunnel to the
escape pods. I'll tell the destroyer to send this sub to Davy Jones' locker in
twenty minutes."

One of the crewmen opened the door to the secret tunnel. Then he gasped.

He was staring directly into Rayne's face!

The man tried to close the door, but Rayne kicked it open, then kicked the
sailor in the chest. Her lethal stiletto heel drove straight into his heart.
She withdrew it with a squishing sound, then tossed the corpse onto the
bridge.

"Hi, boys," she said casually as the men looked up in alarm. She gracefully
dropped from the tunnel onto the floor. The two remaining crewmen tried to
draw their weapons, but Rayne shot one in the chest with her shotgun, dropping
him with a fist-sized hole in his torso, and literally cut the other in half
with a long burst from her submachine gun. The upper half was trying to crawl
away. She walked over to him and finished him by stomping down hard on his
head with her high heel.

She kept her weapons trained on the captain and executive officer. "Now take
out your pistols from your holsters and drop them on the floor. Very slowly."
The men obeyed, shaking with fear. Rayne kicked the guns away.

"How did you know..." quivered the captain.

"About the secret tunnel?" Rayne giggled. "Once I slaughtered the rest of the
men, I knew you'd try to escape. I just went to where the nearest escape pods
to the bridge were and looked for a hidden door. Once I found it, I just
followed the passage right to this room. It wasn't rocket science."

"What are you going to do with us?" asked the executive officer, trying to
hide the shakiness of his voice.

Rayne smiled at them both seductively. "Well, this body of mine was built for
two things. Fucking, and killing. If you boys are nice, it can be the fucking.
If you're naughty..."

"We'll be nice!" shrieked the captain.

"Very nice!" the executive officer agreed.

"Take off your clothes," she ordered them.

The men looked at her hesitantly, then at each other. She growled, "I mean
fucking NOW."

"Yes, Mistress Rayne!" they said in unison. They began taking off their
uniforms. Meanwhile, Rayne tossed her guns aside, then began slowly and
sensually stripping, first taking off her knee-high black leather boots, then
her top, and finally her pants. She wore neither bra nor panties and stood
there completely nude except for her elbow-length black leather gloves. Her
breasts were perfect, round, ultra-firm, all-natural, enormous double-D's. Her
pussy hair was shaved except for a small landing strip. Her body was extremely
toned and extremely feminine. The now naked men, although bigger than her,
couldn't compare to the level of muscle tone she had.

Rayne smirked as she saw the men's raging erections. "Lie down."

They obeyed. Rayne showed off her gymnastic ability as she executed a chain of
standing back handsprings to them. She then showed off her flexibility by
doing a full 180 degree split on the captain's face. Grinding down hard, she
forced him to eat her out. Meanwhile, she gripped each of their erect cocks
with a leather-gloved hand, giving them rough hand jobs.

"Your grip...so strong...how..." moaned the executive officer. The captain
sounded like he was trying to talk but couldn't, due to Rayne's crotch
covering his face.

She laughed, rolled down her long black leather gloves, and continued jerking
them. "Look how toned and veiny my forearms are," she bragged. Rayne's tanned
forearms had incredible definition, the muscles rippling underneath her golden
brown skin with every movement she made.

"And check out their size, too," she added. Rayne, despite her slender
130-pound figure, had bigger wrists and forearms than most men. She giggled at
the physical and mental dominance she had over the two officers.

Rayne continued grinding down on the captain's face, really hurting, bruising,
and brutalizing him, until she violently came all over his face in a massive
orgasm. Turning her full attention to the hand jobs she was giving, she
suddenly squeezed with all her strength, crushing both of their cocks into
paste.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!" came two horrific screams in unison. She stood up, sneering
down at her victims as she rolled her elbow-length black leather gloves back
up and put her knee-high black leather boots back on.

"You said...if we were nice..." the executive officer finally managed to gasp.

"I did. But you've both been naughty with this whole building a secret
doomsday weapon thing," said Rayne icily.

"We were just...following orders..." gasped the captain.

Rayne scowled. "A lame and pathetic excuse. What you people are doing is going
to lead to a huge war, a world war. And when that war is over and your
inevitable defeat comes, I bet people in your regime will try to use that very
excuse when they're called to answer for the war crimes they'll have
inevitably committed. Anyway, enough chatter. Time to finish this." With that,
she impaled the executive officer straight through the chest with her left
wrist blade. Raising him high into the air, still impaled on her blade, she
began spinning him around, faster and faster. Then she raised her right blade
next to him. As the spinning legs, arms, and head met the second blade, they
were all cut off. She flung her left blade, the torso still stuck on it like a
shish kabob, across the room.

She turned on the helpless, terrified captain. "I let you go down on me
because I have sexual needs. I used you. But I would never see a slimeball
like you as any kind of equal, sexual or otherwise. That's why I crushed both
of your cocks before you could cum. Did you think you were going to see my
soft, feminine side? Did you think I would spare your worthless life? Well,
now you're going to get the kind of fucking you deserve."

Rayne detached her right blade from her wrist. She inserted the handle into
her vagina, like one end of a double-sided dildo. The captain's eyes went wide
with horror as he realized what was coming next. He tried to crawl away, but
Rayne kicked him hard in the side with her big black boot, shattering several
of his ribs and sending fragments of bone into his lungs. He slumped on the
floor face down, completely at her mercy.

With a sadistic grin, Rayne shoved the sharp end of her blade right up his
asshole, thrusting violently, driving it in deeper and deeper. She continued
thrusting as her victim howled in pure terror and agony, enjoying the feel of
the handle inside her tight cunt. She pressed her body closer and closer to
his, the lethally sharp blade ripping and shredding his intestines, his bones,
and his internal organs as she forced it further and further in. Finally, she
gave it an extra-powerful thrust as she climaxed, the tip of the blade
piercing his heart and mercifully ending it all.

Rayne felt her heart rate slowly return to normal as she withdrew her blade.
It was now completely covered in blood and shit. She wrinkled her nose at the
distasteful sight. All that nice blood mixed with that nasty shit.

As she put her clothes back on, her mind turned to what she had to do next.
Despite her feminine needs, her vampire needs, she was still a soldier. She
reached for the radio.

Rayne had a very pleasant, feminine voice, rich and warm. However, she also
had the ability to imitate any other voice, female or male, to the point where
she could fool even the mother of whoever she was impersonating.

"This is the captain of U-1236 calling Kiel Naval Base. Come in, Kiel Naval
Base," she spoke into the radio, imitating the late captain's voice to
perfection.

"This is Kiel Naval Base. I read you, U-1236. What happened down there? In
your last communication, you said that that dhampir bitch had gotten onto your
boat and was killing men left and right. We've been trying to raise you. When
we got no answer, we feared the worst."

"Yes, well, er...it was a tough battle, but we won. We lost a lot of men, but
we finally managed to take the dhampir bitch down." Rayne smiled to herself as
she said that. "We're on our way back to base now."

"Good to hear. I'm glad we don't have to send a destroyer to scuttle the boat
now. Keep on course and inform us of any new developments. Kiel Naval Base
out."

"Roger. U-1236 out." Rayne breathed a sigh of relief as she clicked the radio
off.

She looked around. The submarine was on autopilot, its course back to the
Fatherland already set. If any problems came up, all the manuals were right
there at her fingertips. And there was plenty of food on board.

She smiled.

THE END

Comments, compliments, and constructive criticism encouraged.

silverstar222b@yahoo.com