Neckbeard Vampire: Nightbeard Rising

by David Morgan

“The address,” Paxton said to the guild, “I haven’t been to. I was assigned only to take the shipments and ship them to the addresses she specified. But we have learned that the first is an old warehouse near the river. We suppose she had planned this in the attempt of making a narrow escape.”

  Cruxx, Jaxxon5, Mickey, and Fantasia had all suited up in their true guild garb. Cruxx and Fantasia could barely contain their excitement for the attack—which they kept referring to as a “raid.” Mickey was visibly nervous, and Jaxxon5 was cautious by nature—making sure they were prepared.

  Dex armed each of them as appropriate for facing their enemy. In addition to the standard Ren Faire weapons that were used against the Furries, he had given them weapons against the supernatural. To each was given a stake made of silver to be driven through her heart—should they have the opportunity, a large wooden crucifix, and a head of garlic.

  “You all understand the plan?” Dex asked them, assessing his band of warriors.

  “I have trained you as best I can. You are equipped with armaments against both flesh and spirit, go. Destroy the first target—and we will be one step closer to destroying the Dakimakura herself.” He announced.

  “And may Go--,” to his surprise, his voice stopped short. “And may Go—,” again he could not say it. What was happening? The transformation! “And may Go--,” Had he descended so far into her grasp that he could not invoke the name of The Almighty?

  He tried one last time, “And may Go--,” the power of the neckbeard was growing in him; it had become impossible for him to admit the existence of the Divine.

  “May God go with us,” Paxton finished the sentence for him, and he rested a hand on Dex’s shoulder.

  “Thank you…” Dex said, sighing, “…brother.” He added.

  “No.” Paxton answered, “Thank you.” And each member of the guild turned and one by one, left through the door.

  When the guild had left, Dex turned to the remaining people, sizing them up—assessing their fighting capabilities and how he might make use of them for the night.

  “My friends,” he said, “Pray that all goes well with our companions. Pray to Sagan—,” he caught himself, “…just pray that they return home safely. They will need as much positive energy as can be offered their way.”

  Then he turned to Chad. “Chadwick,” he said, “It’s time for Kara to go home. Take her.”

  “What!?” Kara was startled, “You brought me here to heal me! I’m part of the team now—I know I haven’t been a lot of use before—but—don’t just throw me back to her!”

  “Kara.” Dex said calmly, all the while staring at Chad. “Your parents are worried—they need to see you. You shall not be harmed—you are in good hands with Chadwick. She will not return to you—you have not been home in some days, she has given up on you as prey. I know this—it is her way.”

  Kara continued to protest, but Chad did as he was told. Grabbing her by the arm, she squealed. “Been working out, Chaddy-boy?” She said, wincing at the strength of his grip. “Let GO!” and he released her, taking back his hand as though it were some foreign—yet powerful weapon—which he could just barely control.

  Chad walked her to his car as the moon rose overhead, then driving off into the night.

  Randall, Johnathan, and Dex sat mostly in silence throughout the night. Johnathan was able to doze only once and briefly. In nervous anticipation, their night revolved around an endless cycle of standing, sitting, pacing, and impatiently shaking their legs.

  The clock chimed softly from the kitchen above them. “3:00a.m.” Randall announced, “How long should this take?” He asked Dex.

  “It should take as long as it takes,” Dex said. “But if all goes well, then they should be back by sun up—and, Sagan-willing, sooner.”

  As the minutes slowly ticked by, stretching into the early hours of dawn, they sat together and watched the sky gradually fade from black to a light grey.

  The dawn came, revealing an overcast day ahead of them, and drops of rain sporadically tapped on the window panes.

  Jonathan began to snore. Dex stood, rehearsing stances with his Katana—frustrated that much of his agility had been lost and almost cutting himself twice.

  He replaced the sword in its sheath with the shinking of folded steel. The door upstairs swung open and multiple, heavy footsteps could be heard from above.

  “They’re back!” Randall jumped up.

  They raced upstairs to see the team in good spirits—all having come back with no visible wounds. They talked in hushed voices, trying not to wake the other members of the household. Johnathan, Randall, and Dex ushered them downstairs, relieving them of their heavier equipment.

  “Well?!” Randall asked. “Did you get it?!”

  Fantasia nodded—grinning. “Oh yeah—it’s destroyed.”

  Dex was eager. “Describe it to me. We must be of absolute certainty that you destroyed it.”

  Paxton spoke, “Yes. It was hers definitely. I recognized many of the manga from the original shipment—and it was one of the body pillows. Blank—just as hers was when she was in physical form. It was hers.”

  “How?” Dex asked, “How did you destroy it?”

  “Just as we discussed,” Cruxx said. “We broke up the garlic onto the pillow, rubbing it through the fibers. Then we lit it on fire. We stayed until everything was completely burnt, verifying no pages were left unsinged and being certain that the pillow was completely destroyed.”

  “Perfect!” Dex could not contain his excitement. He immediately stood up, pacing around the room and speaking to himself. “Only two more left—and then she is gone. She will be destroyed and her victims will be free. And I will have my vengeance.”

  “All right, I’m going to bed,” Mickey declared to the team. The others dismissed themselves as well as they stretched out to relax.

  “Where’s Kara—and where’s Chad?” Fantasia asked suddenly.

  “Kara’s home.” Dex said, “I sent Chad to take her back.”

  “That’s right,” Johnathan chimed in, “Chad hasn’t come back yet. Do you think he’s all right?”

  As though he could hear them talking, the door at the top of the stairs opened and Chad appeared, walking down.

  “Where were you?” Paxton asked. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s perfect.” He answered coldly.

  “Well, why were you gone so long?”

  “What business is it of yours?” Chad spit back. “I’ve got things to do as well, besides hunting mythical creatures—I was asleep, upstairs for your information.”

  “Calm down Chad,” Dex said sternly.

  “I’m going back to bed—if that’s all right with your majesties,” and he affected a dramatic bow before turning and leaving the room.

  “What was that about?” Fantasia asked. Paxton shrugged in reply.

  “Time to rest up,” Dex announced to the guild. “We will infiltrate the second stronghold tonight. If we are well rested, and have even a little bit of luck on our side, then we should be able to take it down with ease. Then only one will remain.”

  The guild settled in and slept until mid-afternoon. The sun reached its apex and slowly began sinking towards dusk.

  Again the team assembled as it did the evening before. They armed themselves with their weapons—both of the spiritual and the physical realm, preparing to implement the second stage of their battle. As they suited up, ready to leave, Chad had made his reappearance among the group.

  His demeanor was calm, yet serious, “I’m going with you.” His tone implied that he was not willing to compromise.

  The group turned their attention to Dex, who looked to Chad, sizing him up. He answered with a single word, “Okay.”

  Again Randall and Johnathan stayed behind with Dex—awaiting the return of their companions. Again the time passed slowly by, each dragging minute ticking at painful speed.

  The clock chimed 4:00 and Randall
began to doze along with Johnathan. He was stirred some time later by the familiar sound of heavy footsteps entering through the front door. They quickly shuffled into the kitchen, and Randall was fully awake by the time they threw the basement door open. The steps were hurried and uneven.

  “What happened?!” Randall shouted, as he saw Paxton and Mickey dragging in Fantasia. The streak in her hair that had once shown bright blue was now matted to her head in a deep purple as blood trickled down her face. Tears in her armor seemed be oozing the viscous red liquid.

  Cruxx came down next with an unconscious Jaxxon5 thrown over his shoulder. Chad followed last, closing the door behind them.

  “We were ambushed,” Cruxx said.

  Dex raced over to them. “Did you destroy it?!”

  “They were everywhere,” Cruxx was saying. “I don’t know where they came from.”

  “Who was?” Johnathan asked.

  The expression on Cruxx’s face turned grave, looking Johnathan in the eyes. His answer was a single word. “Neckbeards.”