Four Beheadings and a Funeral

by Ugland, Eric

  I ignored him for the time being, and instead focused on pulling. Every fiber of my being was working on pulling. There was certainly some resistance, especially because each tiny tear was almost instantly healed. But finally, after I gave every effort I had, I was dutifully rewarded.

  I ripped Blondie’s head off, and used said head to smash into Bootlicker.

  Bootlicker tried to bite my neck, but I got an arm in the way. When his fangs bit down, they went into my forearm.

  I flexed, and pulled away.

  His fine fangs went with it, in a shower of black ichor.

  The vampire made a plaintive sort of mew, and felt at his ruined mouth.

  I shot my fist in a quick jab, and found that my fist went into the spot where his mouth had been.

  Then I opened my hand, grabbed his jaw from the inside, and then painted the wall with his head until there was nothing left.

  It was gross enough that even I paused.

  A sword cut at me. Stout had entered the battle, swinging wildly and slicing into my upper arm. The sword clanged off my bone. That hurt, but it also stopped his momentum. He didn’t seem to know what to do next.

  Tall, Dark was still trying to get himself up, Stern was just moving into the shadows, and Bootlicker was slowly healing despite my hand still being in his mouth.

  I threw Bootlicker at Stout.

  He put his hands up, leaving the sword in my left arm.

  A quick pull, and my blood was everywhere. The vampires stopped everything, eyes wide as they dropped to the ground, trying to lap up my blood as it ran across the ground.

  I shook my head. That just made things easy.

  Three slices, and three more heads were on the ground.

  Four heads.

  Stern squeaked, and then turned to run.

  I jumped across the open area and grabbed his cloak, pulling back firmly.

  His legs kept going, but his torso stayed put.

  Sure it was a bit of a stooges move, but he slammed onto the ground, and the breath left him.

  “You will leave,” I said, “when Montgomery Northwoods tells you to leave.”

  I slammed the sword through his cloak in between two cobblestones, ignored his whimpering, and went back to look at the mess I’d made.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Four bodies. Four heads. Plus a lot of viscera mixing together. I was not looking forward to trying to explain this. My arm hurt. I looked down to see vampire fangs still embedded. I pulled them out and put them into my coin purse. Was it a little gross? Yes. Did I do it anyway? Also yes. They seemed like something that might come in handy some day.

  I did a quick roll of the bodies, getting whatever loot I could from them. Each time I finished a body, I looked over at the young man I’d caught. He wasn’t even trying to escape. He seemed perfectly miserable, but willing to accept whatever punishment I might mete out.

  Interestingly enough, no one was looking out their windows. No one had even opened their shutters. No guard boots tromping on the cobblestones. If I was a murderer — I mean, in this exact case if I was a murderer, there’d be nothing to stop me. It was too easy. Was this purely a product of fear? Were people so afraid they wouldn’t report an obvious fight? I mean, I understood that this world didn’t have something as simple as dialing 911 — you’d need to send a runner or something. Ring a bell. But not even taking a peek?

  There wasn’t a ton of loot on the bodies. They were certainly wealthy fuckers, but they were out for a stroll and a quick bite in their home town, it’s not like they’d be taking their heirloom magical items with them. Just a bit of coin and some rings.

  And then there was the top prize of the night, one whimpering man-child.

  I walked over to him, and I knelt so that we were eye to eye.

  “Are you crying?” I asked, more than a little surprised.

  He nodded, and redoubled his tears.

  “Uh,” I started, “can you stop and, I don’t know, talk?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you think I’m going to kill you?”

  He nodded.

  “And you’d rather stay a vampire forever?”

  “I’m not a vampire!” he cried out, his voice breaking.

  I started to have my doubts about him. He was younger than I thought.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Thirteen,” he said.

  “You totally looked older than that,” I said.

  “Richard wouldn’t let the Master turn me yet,” he whimpered.

  “You mind explaining that last part again?”

  “Richard said I was too young, that I needed to become more of a man before I received the gift the Master was willing to bestow. But I wanted to become one, I wanted the power—”

  “Have you met the Master?”

  “No.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “No.”

  “You just knew about him.”

  “Yes.”

  I stood up, put my hands on my hips, and looked at the mess I’d made. Both in the physical and metaphorical senses. I had a kid here with me. A kid who was covered in snot and crying because I had rather viciously beheaded his friends. Which made me wonder how old they were.

  “How old was Richard?” I asked.

  That made the kid cry more. Maybe I should have been a bit more gentle, or, you know, not used the past tense.

  “Come on, kid,” I said, a little rough because it had a been a long day. “Get your shit together and let’s have a chat or I’m going to have to do something you won’t like.”

  He cried harder.

  I was not the right person to deal with the boy. I mean, for obvious decapitation-type reasons, but also because I wasn’t exactly, uh, kind-hearted and easy to talk to. I needed Eliza. She’d get him to open up. Thing was, I couldn’t exactly leave the bodies where they were, and I also couldn’t bring four corpses to Osterstadt’s finest inn.

  Down the street about a hundred feet, I saw a cart. A little thing that looked like it was most often used for moving goods. I mean, obviously. It wasn’t overly big, just sort of larger than a wheelbarrow but smaller than a wagon. It’d work.

  I grabbed it and pushed it over to where the bodies were. A quick bit of work, and I had four headless corpses piled inside. And then, you know, four heads piled on top of that.

  “Let’s go,” I said, pulling out the sword and hauling the kid to his feet. I gave him a quick look over, seeing if he’d do anything besides stand there, sobbing. “Don’t even think about running.”

  He shook his head, and then wiped his snotty nose.

  I sighed, and started pushing the cart.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  No one stopped us, or even really paid attention to me. I suppose it was just another ordinary sight, someone pushing a cart of bodies through the night. While a kid followed, crying softly. But it’s not like there were a ton of people out, and most everyone I saw had their head down, keeping their attention to themselves. There was an atmosphere of fear, pervasive and nearly overwhelming.

  Somehow, the snow falling made everything more intense, dropping a sense of foreboding around every corner. And made me feel more like a dude doing dirty deeds. Which I was. But I wanted to feel like the hero, not the skulking villain. And yet, there I was, skulking about the streets, carting bodies to the Imperial House.

  The area in front of the Imperial House was remarkably well lit, even this far into the night, and plenty of Legion soldiers stood guard. Maybe even more than during the day. And these guys were burly, serious soldiers, not bored city guards.

  I moved slowly with the cart, not wanting to spook anyone into a fight. Of course, as soon as it became clear I wasn’t just moving along, that I wanted to go into the Imperial House, the soldiers pulled swords, leveled spears, and approached.

  “State your business,” one of the soldiers barked out, “or lose your head.”

  “Got a delivery for the Vicero
y,” I said.

  This didn’t go over well with them, as ten of the soldiers continued to move on me, weapons starting to come awfully close.

  “You, boy,” the speaking soldier said, “what’s in the cart?”

  The boy just quailed, starting to move away.

  I grabbed his cloak, and pulled him closer.

  “Let the boy go,” the soldier said.

  “Can’t do that, I’m afraid,” I replied. “He’s part of the package for the Viceroy.”

  The soldiers surrounded the two of us, and the lead guy peered over the lip of the cart.

  He saw the bodies.

  I knew he would. I was just hoping for a slightly better response.

  His face went pale, well, paler, and he got his sword right up to my throat.

  “What is this madness?” he asked.

  “Vampires,” I said. “They attacked me—”

  The point of the sword went into my throat. I could feel blood running down my neck.

  “Silence,” the soldier said. He glanced over his shoulder, “Fetch the mancer on duty.”

  The guards exchanged looks, which made me think this was a remarkably odd request.

  “Now!” the head soldier yelled.

  One of the other soldiers ran inside.

  “You best be telling the truth here,” the leader said, “or your head will join those in the cart.”

  “If I’m lying, I’m dying,” I replied with a nod and a smile. “Got it.”

  He did not seem placated, so we waited in a tenuous silence. He did, however, pull the sword back just a little, so I wasn’t, you know, being injured.

  “So, been here long?” I asked.

  “Silence,” the guard replied.

  “Okay then.”

  It took a few minutes before the runner guard returned. An older man in robes wiped sleep from his eyes as he followed.

  The robed man had long grey hair tied in a loose pony tail. He had quite a bit of scruff on his face, like he hadn’t really committed to a beard, but also didn’t want to shave every day. Small spectacles sat pertly on his large nose, which dominated his rather thin face. He got close to the cart, then adjusted his spectacles before leaning over and looking inside.

  “Hrm,” he said.

  “Well?” the lead guard asked.

  “What?”

  “What are they?”

  “Dead. Quite obviously. Very dead. You can tell because the heads--“

  “What are they, mancer?”

  “Beyond dead?”

  “Yes!”

  “I daresay they are beheaded. Is that what you are looking for?”

  “No. I want to know what they are? Human? Elf? What?”

  “I think they were human at one point.”

  “And now?”

  “Dead.”

  “He wants to know—” I started, but the guard pushed his sword back into my neck.

  “I want an unbiased opinion,” Lead Guard said. “And right now, it’s looking like you murdered four young men.”

  The old mancer harrumphed, and did a little whirl of his hands, kind of like screwing a light bulb in. It produced a soft light that floated in the air.

  He peered at the bodies again, taking more time to really look at them. He moved his light closer and let it follow him around so he could pierce the darkness. Then he poked at the corpses, and, finally, put his finger into one of their mouths.

  This made the lead guard blanche visibly and shake his head. He was not ready for such a grotesque display.

  The mancer chuckled to himself, and waved his hand. The light vanished, and the bodies twinkled ever so slightly for a moment.

  “Vampire,” he said, nodding. “Young ones. Turned, maybe, within the month. Maybe two at the outside. You had better get the heads farther from the bodies though. They’ll start pulling together before daylight.”

  “Told you,” I said.

  “You slew these?” the mancer asked, glancing over at me. His eyebrows were so bushy they kept his spectacles from sitting properly up against his eyes.

  “I did.”

  “Any reason one of them appears to have been beheaded by a method other than a blade?” he asked.

  “I got angry,” I replied.

  He gave me an appraising look, then shrugged before starting back for the Imperial House.

  I think we were all a little stunned by his rather blasé response to the bodies.

  “Maybe time to get the Viceroy?” I asked.

  The lead guard gulped, but he did sheathe his sword. “I was just—”

  “You were obeying orders,” I finished for him. “Being careful. I get it. I just want to get this kid and these bodies inside safely before someone comes and sees them. Or the kid takes off running.”

  “Or the heads reattach,” called the mancer over his shoulder. “Imagine it might be annoying to have to decapitate them twice.”

  “Good point,” I called back.

  “Come,” the lead soldier said, “bring the cart around back. There’s a service entrance. I don’t want to bring them in the front.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It was a good thing we brought the cart in through the back. I didn’t expect the vampires to leak much because, you know, dead, but that was my mistake. Vile, pungent black fluid dripped through the gaps in the cart, and we left a pretty nasty trail along the stone floor. One of the two guards following us slipped.

  There was a bit of yelling about who was responsible for cleaning the mess up, and then we were shunted into a storage room. It was slightly more than a glorified closet, but not by much. Just a stone room with a few glowstone lanterns hanging from the ceiling. There was a heavy door as the entrance, and I didn’t miss that they locked me and the boy in with the bodies.

  He leaned against one of the walls, before sliding down it, and putting his head in his hands.

  “Kid,” I said, walking over to him after taking a quick peek at the bodies to make sure the heads weren’t moving, “I know you said you wanted to be turned. I can understand that, to a point. It probably looks glamorous, being a vampire. Being strong, being fast. Having power. But there’s a real dark side to being a vampire. Did you, uh, I mean, were you involved in, uh, feeding? Did you help kill anyone?”

  He shook his head.

  “This was my first time out with them since,” he started, but then stopped and shook his head. “I saw them, or, uh, heard them eating tonight, but I didn’t, I wasn’t with them while that was happening.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Watching for people. The guard. Making sure they were, making sure Richard wasn’t discovered.”

  “So you’re probably in the clear. I don’t make these rules, but there’s a good chance you’ll get a stern talking to, and then they’ll send you home to your parents.”

  “Where I have to tell my father that his first born is a vampire. And dead.”

  “Was a vampire.”

  His puffy eyes snapped to mine, and I saw nothing but hate contained with them.

  “Sorry,” I said, and moved to the other side of the room.

  I leaned against the wall, and checked out my notifications.

  GG! You’ve killed a Vampire (lvl 14 Vampire).

  You’ve earned 1500 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  * * *

  GG! You’ve killed a Vampire (lvl 12 Vampire).

  You’ve earned 1200 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  * * *

  GG! You’ve killed a Vampire (lvl 20 Vampire).

  You’ve earned 1550 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  * * *

  GG! You’ve killed a Vampire (lvl 18 Vampire).

  You’ve earned 1400 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  Not a whole lot of new information, except that I found it interesting that their Choices were Vampire. I hadn’t really expected their race, if you want to call it that, to overrule their Choice.. I took a peek at the sword, and it looke
d like a sword. I wished I had Bear with me. Or that I still had clean access to the identify spell. I needed to find some sort of ring of identification or something. Depending on Bear to cast such a basic spell was foolish.

  I wasn’t sure how long it took before Léon finally came down to the storage room, but I had definitely gotten bored and it seemed like the kid had finished crying when the lock clicked over, and three men walked into the room. Léon, the head soldier guy from outside, and the old mancer.

  Léon’s eyebrows went up when he saw me.

  “I should have known it was you,” he said, but he did have half a smile on his face.

  “You know him?” the soldier asked.

  “Yes, Mont—”

  “—gomery Northwoods,” I finished for the Viceroy. “Soldier with the Northwoods family.”

  “Ah,” the soldier said, and nodded. “Sergeant Berowne Agrippa, at your service.”

  He gave me a polite head bow, and I did the same back.

  “Seems like I’ve found your nighttime prowler problem,” I said, walking Léon over to the bodies. “Vampires.”

  “Yes,” the Viceroy said, looking down at the bodies and then swallowing hard, doing his damndest not to vomit over the vampires. “They are, uh, fresh.” He leaned in closer, and pushed one of the heads over so he could look at the face.

  “I also caught one of the, uh, well,” I couldn’t really figure out a good way to introduce the kid, “this guy was, uh, I think he might be related to one of the, uh, vampires.”

  Léon glanced over at the kid, then back at the vampire corpses, and back to the kid.

  “Shit,” he said softly. “Coleville.”

  The kid nodded.

  “So this body is Richard Coleville,” Léon said.

  The kid nodded.

  “And you’re Androwe?”

  Another nod.

  “Mont, uh, gomery, you are certainly making things, well—”

  “Exciting?” I offered.

  I got a dark look in return.