by Nick Stead
My muzzle shrank, the deadly bite of my lupine jaws turning to the blunt weakness of my lesser human form. The bones at the end of my spine ground together as my tail was sucked back into my body without a trace, and my claws became harmless nails once again. Sounds dulled as my ears rounded and slid back down my skull, though I didn’t notice much difference to my sense of smell after that transformation, given the fear inducing scent which remained so overpowering throughout the dungeon.
Within moments I was fully human again, my body whole and unmarred – not even scars remained to mark the wounds I’d sustained. But as always there was a cost for using my shapeshifting powers, my hunger growing stronger still and tiredness creeping back in. It had gone ominously quiet behind us, the creature seemingly no longer trying to break through to the fiery chamber and no longer voicing its pain and hatred, and in the absence of the terror it had induced I felt drained. That icy grip of fear had been the sole thing keeping me going through the encounter, and without being allowed to feed or rest I didn’t think I had the energy to go on any longer.
The door we’d come through had slid back into place at some point while I was transforming, blocking off the chamber once more. I wasn’t sure if that was why the dread thing had gone quiet, perhaps possessing enough intelligence to look for an easier way to get at us if it felt there was a chance we could stay one step ahead of it, or maybe the Slayers had a way of controlling it and they’d called it off. Whatever the reason for it retreating, I felt sure it couldn’t be good.
“The Slayers owe me a new coat,” Zeerin said, interrupting my thoughts. He’d come out of the flames in surprisingly good shape, with only a few burns on his clothes and his pale skin mostly intact.
I didn’t reply so he changed the subject.
“I would say that was a lucky escape, but I suppose the Slayers would have planned it as part of this game you say we’re trapped in. We should keep moving in case they send the creature after us again.”
“No,” I growled wearily. “I’m done.”
“It’s not safe to rest here with that thing so close by. For all we know, the doors to the chamber we were just in will open again and allow the creature to run through.”
“I’m done,” I repeated, turning to the nearest camera. “Do you hear that, you sick bastards? I’m done running and I’m done with your twisted games. I’m going to curl up here and sleep for as long as my body needs to, and I’m not moving till I’m ready to move. Send that thing back in and watch it rip me apart if that’s what you want, but I won’t get up to run or fight for your amusement. I’m done!”
With that, I eased my aching body to the ground and closed my eyes. The stone was far from comfortable to lie on but I was so tired that it didn’t matter, sleep taking hold within minutes. I gave myself over to it, no longer caring about the dangers the dungeon held or what else the Slayers might be planning. It felt too good to close my eyes and embrace the pleasant warmth of slumber, and I soon sank into a deep sleep.
Chapter Six – Poisoned Offerings
I awoke to find I was still in one piece, my body stiff from lying on the hard surface of the stone but otherwise feeling much better for the chance to rest. The weary ache had left my muscles and I felt more able to fight my way through the dungeon, though the hunger still raged in my stomach, my body demanding more food with nauseating force. I needed to feed again, especially if I wanted to transform when we were next thrown into a fight. And just as importantly, I needed water, my mouth drier than ever after the heat had robbed my body of more of its fluids.
Zeerin stood with his back to me. I assumed he’d been keeping watch but as the minutes had stretched on into what must’ve been hours without incident, he appeared to have become lost in thought, the amethyst pendant held lovingly in one hand, his eyes fixed on it. He didn’t seem to be aware that I’d finally woken, too distracted by his memories and heartache.
My curiosity rose again so I tried asking him about her a second time, sitting up while we talked. “What was her name?”
The vampire didn’t move and at first I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he whispered her name so softly a human wouldn’t have caught it. “Lady Charlotte.”
“Lady? So she was some kind of noble woman?”
“What does it matter now?” he said, bitterness creeping into his voice. “It was another time and she is probably long dead, unless she too succumbed to the curse of undeath.”
“You still regret becoming a vampire, even after all this time?”
“We’re all born mortal,” he answered after a brief pause. “You make your peace with that and you do the best with what you’re given. But to learn there’s a chance at immortality… Can you really fault me for choosing the life of a monster to escape Death? It is perhaps not the choice I would have made, had I truly understood what was being offered to me. But I was young and arrogant. I’d already turned pirate and risen to the rank of captain, and to then be promised greater power and immortality – what man would have said no? It was too attractive an offer to turn down, and I thought little of the price it might come at.”
“So what made you become a pirate?”
“Ah, so full of questions. Why can’t you leave a man be?”
“Sorry, I just find the stories of all you older vampires fascinating. You’ve lived through things we can only dream of these days. And what else is there to do down here, other than talk? It’s better than listening to the voices of our hungers screaming for the hunt in a place where there is nothing to hunt.”
“Very well, but we should resume our progress through this ‘level’ while we talk.”
“Deal,” I answered, getting to my feet and wincing as I did so. My butt had gone to sleep on the hard floor and it took a few minutes for the discomfort to ease off, but walking helped. I fell into step beside the vampire, prompting him to tell me more when he didn’t begin the tale on his own by asking again “Come on then, why did you choose a pirate’s life?”
Zeerin sighed. “How to explain to a landlubber? I suppose the real question is why did I become a seaman at all? If you ever experienced the terrible conditions we faced on board and the dangers of the ocean herself, you would wonder why any of us chose that life. But I did start off as an honest sailor, sent to sea when I was no more than a boy. That was probably the most exciting moment of my childhood after hearing so many glorious tales from the men who came ashore to restock their provisions. The way they told it, I was going to grow up with the freedom only the sea could offer, and such wondrous sights awaited – sights I could only dream of on land.
“No one ever talked about the hard truths of life on deck. The beatings we faced if we broke the rules or the tough rations we had to live on, and the diseases that decimated many a crew. Life on land was no easier back then and it’s not that our superiors were particularly cruel or unfair, but there is only so much a man can take of that kind of strict regime we lived under. Eventually it wears you down, enough that those with any sense would seek employment ashore and put the sea behind them.
“I was sixteen before I was considered a seaman, and entered into the normal ten years of service. By the time my ten years were up I was free to do as I wished, but life at sea was all I’d ever known and I was never the settling down type. Taking a woman as my wife and starting a family was not for me. The sea was my mistress and no matter how many days I spent on dry land, always she called me back, fickle though she could often be. I saw my fair share of men plucked from the deck and dragged into her watery embrace and down to Davy Jones’ locker, and I even accepted that was likely to be my fate someday, yet I could not resist her allure for long. She promised a life without responsibilities and I could never say no to that.
“But then things changed. Good sailors were no longer in high demand once the War of Spanish Succession came to an end and soon the slave trade was the only real area a seaman could find work in. Wages dropped as we went from being rare breeds to be taken
care of, to common pests easily replaced. Captains were no longer concerned with our health and wellbeing, many taking the view that our deaths were a blessing as fewer bodies meant less money to spend on rations and pay, and if the crew grew too small to man a ship there were always more sailors looking for employment.
“Life on deck became a festering cesspit of filth and disease, just waiting for our mortal end. Death took many forms as he stalked us one by one, claiming those the sea didn’t drag down first, the damned crews little better off than the slaves the ships carried. In those conditions you might ask why any of us didn’t turn pirate.
“The night they came the sea was wild. Her angry waves crashed against the ship’s hull, buffeting us this way and that as if to remind us we were no more than helpless mortals caught in something far greater than any man could ever be, our fates no longer in our own hands but seized by an untameable force. Only a fool would ever think he could take control of our watery mistress, and that night was to be a harsh reminder of our place in life as she pulled enough of us into the deeps that we began to imagine we were being attacked by the great kraken itself.
“When the grinning skull appeared in the blackness, could you blame us for fearing the supernatural was at work? There we were, desperately battling the ocean’s fury in a fight to keep our ship above water, and that ghastly apparition appears in the night, gaining on us so easily we thought they must have made a pact with Davy Jones himself. The flag was designed to strike terror in the hearts of honest sailors who found themselves prey, but seeing it lit up by the lightning overhead, and then by canon fire as our captain ordered us to sink that cursed ship riding the storm ever nearer, it sent most of the men into a blind panic. It didn’t seem possible that it could navigate the sea’s wrath when we were struggling just to stay afloat, and we feared not just for our lives but our souls.
“I’m sure their ship must have taken some damage but in that moment it seemed like our canons couldn’t touch them. Men started throwing themselves overboard, choosing to give themselves over to the mistress they’d served all their lives rather than let these demons have them. Next thing we knew, the pirates had boarded us, and the next lightning flash showed the seas to have turned red with blood. And yet, violent encounters like this were not most pirates’ preferred way of capturing other vessels. I know all too well the bad light in which history has painted us since we passed from living memory, but choosing the life of a pirate didn’t mean instantly setting yourself on a darker path. Most of us weren’t the bloodthirsty killers of stories but good men who chose a life of crime over the suffering we faced through an honest living. So, when those of us still alive surrendered we were shown mercy, and then came the first choice which changed my life.
“You see, many pirates during that time started off as sailors suffering the horrific conditions of the slave ships. And as I said before, a man can only take so much before it begins to wear him down. As I knelt there and listened to the pirate captain talk, with the sting of my most recent lashings still fresh on my back and the hatred for my superiors burning in my soul, the life he offered grew more and more attractive. The threat of the inevitable hangman’s noose was no deterrent. We all knew our lives in the slave trade would be short so why not turn to piracy and a life free of the oppressive captains we served under, truly free as life at sea had once promised and far richer than any honest sailor could ever hope to be with the meagre pay we were being given. It was a choice between a short, miserable life with little gold to show for it and a probable agonising death to disease at the end, or a short, merry one with gold and women aplenty and a quick, clean death at the gallows, and I knew which life I wanted.”
“Live fast and die young,” I interjected.
“Aye,” he said.
There was obviously more to his tale, even though he’d answered my question as to how he became a pirate, but it seemed I would have to wait to hear any more. We’d reached another T-junction, this one with another chamber just visible along the right, while the left gaped dark and ominous. There was a female scent coming from this room, faint under the constant stench of the thing we’d already run into once, and for a moment I dared to hope it was either Lady Sarah or Selina. But as we drew nearer by some unspoken consent, I soon realised the scent was not one I’d come across before, and it was human.
This chamber had been left open, the girl inside chained to the wall so she couldn’t simply run off. There were also three bowls lying nearby with some kind of liquid in them, though only one looked like water – the other two had the artificial colours of man-made drinks, one bright green and the other red. On the wall above the offerings was another message.
Food and drink if you will pay the price; trade one discomfort for another.
The room was otherwise empty and there were no immediate traps sprung by our passing through the doorway, though I remained cautious, expecting there to be some test of strength or cunning waiting for us. What was this price the message referred to? I was so desperate for a drink that I wanted to rush straight over to the bowls of liquid and gulp each one down, but the words left there on the wall for us suggested that I would have to undergo some fresh torment just to quench my thirst. And then there was the girl. What was a mortal doing in this dungeon built by a human faction who claimed to be fighting ‘evil’ to save human lives? She hadn’t been imprisoned to get at me like Lizzy had been back in my hometown, since she was a stranger and no more than prey to my predator, and I thought it doubtful she was anyone of consequence to the vampire either. If I was right in thinking he’d spent most of his existence at sea, he probably didn’t have many dealings with humans anymore, anyone he’d known in his mortal life long since dead. So why would the Slayers throw someone who was no more than prey into the lion’s den, so to speak?
I glanced at Zeerin, cursing when I realised what was about to happen. His fangs were bared, face twisted into a feral snarl as his hunger rose in response to the easy kill which had been left chained so conveniently for us to feed on. My own hunger urged me to claim the human before my competitor could take her, but wariness overrode the ache in my belly for fresh meat and drink. Whatever the reason for her presence there, I doubted the Slayers had offered us the prey we craved out of charity, especially with the message which referred to a price and trading discomforts.
When the vampire made his move, I only just managed to grab him before he could fall on the potential victim, wrapping both arms around his torso. I strained to pull him away from the human who could do nothing but cower before the two unnatural predators slavering over her soft flesh, whimpering and praying for someone to wake her from this nightmare she’d found herself in. Zeerin was desperate to drink the human blood he craved and satisfy his hunger after being starved for however many nights he’d been imprisoned, reason giving way to madness in the ravenous state he’d fallen into. Any sense of caution he might otherwise have had was swept away by that need to feed which our curses enslaved us to, and with his predatory instincts taking over I was no more than a rival predator to fight over food.
Pain exploded through my nose and mouth as Zeerin drove the back of his head into mine, the shock of it causing me to release my hold on him. I stumbled back a couple of paces, blood streaming down my face which throbbed with the damage. Spitting more blood from my mouth and a couple of loose teeth, I roared with the pain and my rising fury, all too tempted to give into it and allow my bestial nature to take over once more. But maybe that was what the Slayers wanted, so I forced that fiery tidal wave back down into its pit, keeping my attention fixed on the vampire who was clearly too lost in his hunger to keep his own rage in check, despite his greater number of years to learn to cope and practise self-control.
Zeerin turned and lunged at me. I managed to dodge and pounced on him while he had his back to me, sending us both crashing to the ground. The vampire’s feral state gave him new strength and he easily threw me off before I could pin him down, getting to hi
s feet with that unnatural grace his kind possessed. But I’d also gained more of the animal grace and agility of my wolf form since embracing my lupine side, even whilst my body was still human, and I was only seconds behind him when I rose up, still standing between the vampire and his victim.
“She’s mine!” he hissed.
“No, think about this Zeerin. Doesn’t it seem a little suspicious to you that the Slayers would just throw us a free meal, after enjoying watching us suffer through the dungeon so far? Don’t you think it could be another trap? They’ve even left us another message to suggest as much.”
“I’ll take my chances. Stand aside!”
“What if they’ve developed some kind of poison that they can inject safely into a human’s blood without harming them, which is lethal to us when we ingest it? It could be what the message means by trade one discomfort for another. Or there could be something to trigger an attack from more hidden enemies if we get too close. We can’t feed on her, mate. It’s too risky.”
Zeerin hissed again and clenched his fists, but I must have got through to him because he turned away, fighting to wrestle his hunger into submission once more.