Attempted Vampirism

by L. G. Estrella

  The old man squinted. “I… I think so.”

  The vampire sighed and shook his head. “I was hoping he hadn’t.”

  “What does that mean?” Eric asked.

  Jonathan grimaced. “A mistake – and a fatal one too. No investigator would have used that particular Sign if they were in their right mind. He may already have been corrupted.” He turned to the old man. “Before the ceremony, did people report anything unusual like strange dreams or voices?”

  “Many of the other servants and even a few of the investigators,” the old man replied. “It began after the artefact was brought here. I asked the leader of the investigators about it, but he told us not to concern ourselves with it.”

  “That’s usually how it starts. The more we learn, the more it sounds like there was already something wrong with the dagger even before the ceremony was conducted. Given how old it is and how long the Blood Emperor has been dead, it may have begun to malfunction, allowing some of the things imprisoned within it to influence the outside world.” Jonathan gulped. “The Sign I made commands an object to give up its secrets. However, it is rarely used because the effects of that command can be… unexpected.” He shivered and looked at each of them in turn. “When used on an object that imprisons things, commanding it to give up its secrets might accidentally release some of the things sealed within it.”

  Aria covered her face with one hand. “What a mess.”

  “Yes. The dagger wouldn’t have been active for long, but even a few moments would have been long enough for something to escape.” Jonathan made another sign. Eric’s teeth rattled. “He should have used a Sign like this. It asks if an object is still whole and functioning.”

  “What happened to the rest of the servants?” Aria asked. They all had their suspicions, but it was best to be sure.

  “When the artefact activated, there was this… mist. It dragged them into itself. I ran – as did some others. Anyone who was caught… we never saw them again. No. That’s not quite right. We did see them again, but they weren’t… they weren’t…”

  “They became those… things,” Eric growled.

  The old man nodded grimly.

  “The mist,” Jonathan murmured. “Did it look as though it was made of blood?”

  “Yes.”

  Eric grimaced. “This all sounds pretty awful so far.”

  “It is.” Jonathan looked like he was about to throw up. Eric was made of sterner stuff, but he could understand the vampire’s concerns. It was one thing to stab something in the brain. Eric had done that plenty of times. It was quite another to stab something in the brain only to have that thing try to claw its way up his spear to kill him. Even a powerful vampire would have been stunned by such a devastating blow. If things kept going downhill, he might have to transform. “The bloody mist confirms who we’re dealing with. It’s the one I told you about. The bad news is that if he’s already corrupted all of the servants and investigators, he not only has a lot of people on his side but he has also gotten a lot stronger as well.”

  “Wonderful. If the baron hired them, then they must be fairly powerful.” Eric’s jaw clenched. “We’ve already seen what the corruption does to fledglings. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that it makes powerful vampires even harder to deal with.”

  “Do any of you know what magic or Words the investigators have?” Blue Scales asked. “If we are to face them, any information would be valuable.”

  The servant shook his head. “I apologise. It was not my place to ask.”

  “I see.” Aria pursed her lips. “We’ll keep going. We have to.” She nodded at the servants. “You should leave. We have a wagon outside. Take the wagon and retreat to a clearing about a mile down the road. We will meet you there.” She paused. “If things get really bad, then take the wagon and go.”

  “How will we know if things are going badly enough for us to leave?”

  “Believe me. You’ll know.”

  * * *

  Miles tightened his hands into fists. This entire manor was yet another horrible reminder of how many vampires lacked the common sense his master possessed. True, his master was not the bravest man, nor was he the best with a sword or with money. But he was not a fool. Relics and artefacts ought to be treated with respect, not cavalierly taken and activated without proper regard for the consequences. Whenever his master encountered anything truly dangerous during his studies, he swiftly isolated it, protected it, and then passed it on to those who were better equipped to deal with it. Baron Darkletter had not given adequate consideration to the dagger’s insidious nature, and this hive of monsters was the result.

  “Miles!” Jonathan shouted. “Above you!”

  He looked up. Something leapt at him from the ceiling of the chamber they’d entered. Even the corridors had high ceilings, and the route to the reliquary offered many hiding places for cunning opponents. Monsters of all kinds assailed them, twisted wrecks that had little in common with humans or vampires. Eric led the way with Blue Scales at his side while Eileen brought up the rear. More than once the shape-shifter had singlehandedly kept them from being overrun as the vile creatures used every nook and cranny to their advantage.

  Miles twisted and spun into a kick. His foot caught the creature in the side of the head and knocked it into a wall with thunderous force. It was a hideous parody of a person, and he strode over to it. His magic enhanced his strength, and the wall behind it cracked beneath the force of his punch. It gurgled and flailed at him with a barbed tentacle until a second blow all but blew it apart. Finally, it went limp. It was a far from elegant way to dispose of an opponent, but these creatures had little in common with people.

  “Step back!” Jonathan cried. He made an arcane gesture – another Sign – and a thin column of ghostly flame sprang up. Miles’s eyes narrowed in contemplation as several monsters were instantly devoured. It was powerful magic, but it took a long time to perform. It could only be used when his master had others to protect him. Worse, it was a Sign. It drew its power not from the gods but the Beyond. It would allow his master to conserve his magical strength, but it would exact a heavy toll on his mind and willpower. Miles had faith his master could handle it. His master’s mind was strong, and his main Words only added to that strength.

  “How much farther?” Miles asked. None of them had taken any serious injuries yet, but the sheer number of foes – with more approaching – had begun to tell. He and Aria were human, and even with Words and other magic to enhance them, they would likely tire before Eric, who was a werewolf. Thankfully, neither Blue Scales nor Eileen seemed the least bit tired. They must have possessed superhuman stamina.

  “Not too much farther,” Jonathan replied. “Although the number of creatures worries me. Not all of them resemble humans or vampires. Our enemy must have started either making or summoning more of them. The next chamber should lead us to a staircase that delves into the depths below the manor. We should, if the map is correct, come to a large cellar, at the end of which is the reliquary. Without opposition, it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to reach.”

  “Sadly, sir,” Miles pointed out. “We have plenty of opposition.”

  “Eyes front!” Eric barked. “We’ve got something new headed our way.” He growled, and the sound came from his chest, low and deep. “It looks like the bloody mist the servants mentioned.”

  It was a terrible sight to behold – a cloud of deep, viscous red that filled the whole corridor ahead of them. It clung to every surface it touched, and it pulsed and thrummed to a steady, alien rhythm. There was something foreboding about it too, something that fed into the older, instinctive parts of their minds and filled them with visceral dread. It reminded Miles far too much of the aura some creatures – dragons amongst them – possessed. This thing, whatever it was, could easily win its battles without using a single attack. Ruthlessly, he clamped down on his fear. He was no mere beast. He was a man, and he was master of his own emotions. Around him, the
others, including his master, did the same.

  “Can you do anything about that?” Eric asked. “I don’t know about you guys, but my spear isn’t exactly great at stabbing mist.”

  “I might be able to.” Jonathan took a moment to regain his composure. “The mist is the result of a powerful vampire or similar being undergoing a near-complete eldritch transformation. There is a Word I can use in conjunction with a Sign. It might work.” He broadened his stance and visibly braced himself. “Be ready.”

  As the mist closed in, creeping and crawling toward them like some insidious crimson tide, Jonathan spoke a Word and made a Sign. Normally, Miles would have been able to at least identify the Word his master used, but this time he could not. He would have to ask him about it later. The result, though, was unmistakable.

  There was a deep boom of soundless thunder that echoed more in the soul than in the ear. Light of some indefinable and indescribable hue and shade filled the corridor, and the air was suddenly rent by the chiming of a great, dolorous bell. A piercing wail rang out, and the mist recoiled. It tried to retreat, but the chiming of the bell grew louder and louder, a wild, pounding rhythm that culminated in a sound like shattering glass. The bloody mist collapsed until it was no longer some amorphous horror. Instead, it was something vaguely humanoid. His master staggered and would have fallen, but Miles was there to steady him.

  “Sir!”

  Jonathan dragged in a deep breath and took a quick swig from the gourd of blood he carried with him like any sensible vampire. For a vampire, there was no need for healing potions or potions to restore magic. Blood alone could do both, and only a foolish vampire went anywhere dangerous without some. Miles’s master was no fool, and this place was definitely dangerous.

  “I wasn’t sure it would work, but it did.” Jonathan grinned weakly and then straightened. “The bloody mist is something that can, at least for a time, be forced to take on something resembling its original form. The Word and Sign I used forced our opponent into a more tangible form. This isn’t our true enemy. It’s probably one of the investigators, but we should be able to hurt it now.” He shook his head to clear it. “Move quickly. I don’t know how long my technique will last.”

  Miles nodded and turned his attention toward their opponent. Their opponent was tall, male – at least in general shape – and looked like a humanoid made of blood. It had to be one of the baron’s investigators. More troubling was the way blood had begun to circle him. He knew what that meant.

  “Blood mage,” Miles hissed. Blood mages were vampire elites, able to use their affinity with blood to unleash powerful blood magic, in addition to Words and generic magic.

  Aria’s power hummed in the air like a swarm of angry bees. The god she served was not fond of vampires and was even less fond of corrupted vampires although he was said to favour the righteous, regardless of what race they belonged to. “This is not a good place to face a blood mage. The corridor is too narrow. Get ready.”

  Miles braced himself for combat. Like all vampires, his master knew some blood magic, but he wasn’t a blood mage. A blood mage could use blood as though it was an extension of their body. They could shoot droplets of blood at speeds that made even crossbow bolts seem slow or shape it into blades and other forms. Worse still, a blood mage could use blood to unleash far more powerful magic than a normal vampire. According to legend, the Blood Emperor had once torn the blood out of the bodies of an entire army before using it to defeat one of the Great Calamities after his enemies summoned it in a desperate bid to defeat him. If the legends were to be believed, the sky itself had rained spears of boiling blood hardened far beyond mere steel. The Calamity, a being so powerful that it could destroy entire nations during its rampages, had fallen before the Blood Emperor’s might. It would rise again since the Calamities could not truly be destroyed or even bound by weapons like the Dagger of the Crimson Dawn, but it had been more than a thousand years before it was seen again. Thankfully, their opponent was not the Blood Emperor.

  There was a whistling sound, and Miles ducked just in time to avoid droplets of blood that lanced through the air too quickly for even his enhanced vision to track.

  “Get down!” Aria shouted as she moved to the front of the group. “[Enduring Protection]!” A barrier flickered to life in front of her, and it was soon joined by several identical barriers as she repeated the Word. Droplets of blood thudded into the outermost barrier, a few at first and then more and more until the sound of each impact blended into a single sustained roar. The outermost barrier began to crack before it shattered. The barrier behind it didn’t last much longer, and within moments, the blood mage was working on the third barrier. “A little help, Eileen!”

  The bear growled, and four small, dark shapes leapt off her. Those were shadow imps. The third barrier shattered, and the shadow imps leapt through the two remaining barriers. A small patch of shadow appeared between them, and they leapt apart. The shadow spread until it blocked almost the entire corridor. For a split-second, eyes and teeth appeared in the shadow, larger versions of the eyes and teeth the shadow imps had, and then the large shadow began to consume the bolts of blood. The blood mage intensified his attack, but the shadow held, hungrily devouring each drop the blood mage sent its way. A pair of eyes opened, and one of them winked at them before a gap appeared along one side of the shadow, just large enough for someone to squeeze past.

  “Go!” Aria shouted. “Attack. I’ll protect you.”

  Eric and Miles didn’t have to be told twice, nor did Blue Scales. The three of them raced forward, and Aria dismissed her [Enduring Protection] barriers in favour of Words that enhanced their durability. The large shadow let them past, and Miles growled as a bolt of blood struck him in the shoulder. Without Aria’s help, the bolt would have carved a hole through his shoulder and knocked him off his feet. As it was, he’d bruise badly, but he pressed onward.

  Eric reached the blood mage first, and the corrupted vampire barely dodged his lunging thrust. However, his frantic dodge took him straight into the path of Blue Scales’s trident. The merman gouged a chunk out of the vampire’s shoulder, all but severing his right arm, and Miles wasted no time in attacking the wounded vampire. At this distance, and with his opponent off-balance, there was no way he could miss, so he needed to make his strike count.

  [Pulverise].

  [Sunder].

  [Shatter].

  Vampires could regenerate, so he had to assume the corrupted vampire could as well. However, not all wounds regenerated at the same speed. If a limb got severed, regrowing it would take much longer than reattaching the severed limb to the stump. Likewise, deep cuts and gashes were generally easier to fix that crushed organs. The Words he had called upon to enhance his strike would allow him to pulverise, sunder, and shatter what he hit. Had he used it on the wall next to the vampire, he would have completely destroyed it. The effect on a living creature was even more impressive.

  His fist struck.

  And the vampire’s entire body liquefied. It wasn’t turning into mist. No, it was the result of being hit by a blow so devastating that it completely annihilated the vampire’s makeshift body. The vampire was splattered all over the walls, floor, and ceiling. To Miles’s disgust, the gore began to move in an attempt to reform.

  “Hit him again!” Jonathan urged. “He can’t keep reforming!”

  “Give me room to work.” Aria pushed her way forward. “If I hit him with my magic just before you strike, it will do even more damage.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve fought blood mages before.”

  Again, Miles rushed forward. Eric and Blue Scales were right beside him, ready to pounce if another opening emerged. The distraction they provided proved vital as Miles landed another blow – or tried to. At the last instant, Miles was forced to retreat to avoid being sliced in two by the twitching mass of blood that was the vampire’s body. Eric leapt forward, his spear angled toward the centre of the red conglomeration. The vampire dodged the blow, but again
, he moved right into the path of Blue Scales. The merman’s trident thumped into the mass of blood and gore.

  “Get back!” Aria shouted to Jonathan. Once she was certain the vampire was clear, she raised one hand. “[Light of Day]!”

  Miles’s eyes widened. That was a powerful Word – one that could only be used by those blessed by certain gods. It created pure daylight imbued with divine power. The blood mage gave a hideous, wailing shriek, and the hideous agglutination of blood began to burn. Miles struck again, and the vampire shattered like glass. The fire consuming the vampire flared, and a few seconds later, there was nothing left but a strange, coarse, black ash.

  “I think he’s dead now,” Eric said as he prodded the ash with his spear.

  “He must have been completely corrupted,” Jonathan whispered. “When a vampire is destroyed by daylight, the ash should be a much lighter colour. And look at how coarse the ash is. A vampire should leave much finer, smoother ash.”

  “Are you all right, sir?” Miles asked. “The light was very bright.”

  “I’m fine.” Jonathan patted himself down to be sure. “Strangely so, in fact.”

  “You were quite far behind me,” Aria explained. “And the Word I used was a gift from the god I serve. It is daylight, yes, but it carries the judgement of my god. If you are innocent of wrongdoing or corruption, it will do you no harm, vampire or not.” She grinned. “Congratulations, Jonathan. The god I serve must think you’re a decent man.”

  “That’s nice to know,” Jonathan replied. Miles smiled. His master seemed to be rallying from his earlier expenditure of power. “I was worried I might have to use more Words or Signs.”

  “Be careful,” Aria advised. “I saw how much that took out of you, and none of us are well versed in eldritch lore. We can’t afford to lose you.”

  They fought their way past more of the horrid lesser creatures and another pair of the blood mist vampires. It was a hard, brutal slog, and both Aria and Eileen were forced to deploy their own magic and summons, respectively, to lighten the load on Miles’s master. Even Blue Scales had begun to feel the strain. He did not sweat as men did. Instead, he seemed to be drying out, and he stopped several times to splash himself with water created by his Words.