Xander held up the cold barrels of the dual pistols to his forehead in prayer. It was a solemn promise, a ritual that the soldier had made hundreds of times. After Halloween, he had been remembering more of the soldier's exploits. All of his skill and training were passed on to him, itching to be used. For the past few weeks, his nightmares were getting bloodier and more graphic. He felt the need to shoot, maim, or lethally injure half of the people around him.
He needed an outlet, a release. He had left his house earlier that night, dressing in dark clothes and soft sneakers. With his stake, cross, and holy water ready, he knew just the place. He wasn't looking for a fight from regular vampires. Vampires had speed, strength, and stamina on their side. At one of his forays downtown, he had heard of a house, where the living would die and the dead would live. He had read up on countless Internet sources as well as some of Giles's books about the nature of zombies. A quick shot to the head or enough shots to the torso would be ample to kill it.
Xander knelt infront of his intended target, the so-called House of the Dead. Countless onlookers passed by, seeing the young man, in dark clothes, praying with two pistols touching his forehead. Xander finished his lament and got up to face his task. There he stood, pistols akimbo waiting for a sign to start.
A loud voice interrupted his thought. *ENTER (2) COINS TO BEGIN*
"Damn." Xander placed the red and blue pistols back in the harnesses. He brought out a five-dollar bill from his left pocket and looked around the arcade.
"Anyone got change for a five?"