Attempted Vampirism

by L. G. Estrella

  At last, they reached the cellar. It was a broad space, lined with countless shelves for wine, blood, and other delicacies. There was even an unspoilt container of cheese nearby, which Miles’s master stared at. Miles bit back a smile. His master was fond of cheese and crackers as a light snack, and this cheese was his favourite kind. Of course, the cellar held no shortage of horrors either. If anything, it was the opposite.

  “There are a lot of them,” Miles murmured. “Perhaps too many for us to handle.”

  Aria nodded grimly. Like him, she could just make out the door to the reliquary behind the throng of twisted shapes. “I can see the door behind them.”

  “It should be the door to the reliquary.” Jonathan swallowed thickly. Miles could tell that his master wanted to run, but although he was not given to grand acts of valour, he was no coward. Until Aria gave the order to retreat, he would stand his ground.

  “How certain are you that you can deactivate the dagger?” Aria asked.

  “Fairly certain.”

  “And you’re sure it’s in the reliquary?”

  “I can feel it.” Jonathan’s brows furrowed. “Don’t ask me to describe it, but I can definitely feel it. The Blood Emperor’s power is all over it. Any vampire would recognise it. He was… the greatest of us all.”

  “Then we force our way through,” Aria said. “Once you deactivate the dagger, these things should fall apart, right?”

  “They should.” Jonathan fiddled with his collar. Miles imagined it felt rather tighter than usual. “Or at least, that’s what the records suggest should happen.”

  “Stay close to me when we push through the horde, sir.” Miles took a moment to adjust his gloves. It felt good to be of service to his master, but he wished the circumstances were less dire. Serving his master dinner in his library was boring, but it was also safe. “I will protect you as best I can. Conserve your strength for the dagger. I doubt deactivating it will be easy.”

  “Then let’s get moving.” Aria raised her voice. “I know you’ve been trying to conserve your strength, Eileen, but it’s time to cut loose. You won’t be able to keep it up forever, but we need you to punch a hole through that swarm, and I think the cellar is big enough.”

  The shape-shifter – who had fought entirely in her bear form so far – gave a great roar of acknowledgement as she moved to the front of the group and began to transform. Miles urged his master back as power poured off her. Fur gave way to scales, one head became three, and a short neck became long and sinuous as she grew and grew and grew. Where there had once been a large bear with dark fur, there was now a three-headed hydra with dark scales. It towered over all of them, almost tall enough to touch the vaulted ceiling of the cellar.

  “Go!” Aria shouted. “She won’t be able to keep that up forever, but she can clear a path for us!”

  Eileen rumbled forward, and they followed in her wake. The floor shook beneath her as she simply trampled anything that got in her way. Her two side heads lashed out, biting or knocking creatures aside, as her central head unleashed volley after volley of deadly acid into the throngs ahead of them. The corrosive fluid did terrible damage, and for a moment, the corrupted creatures recoiled. But then a tremor ran through the crowd, and they rushed forward, hacking and tearing at anything they could reach. Miles punched and kicked, and Blue Scales sent waves of water to drive them back. It wasn’t enough to kill them, but they didn’t have the time to make sure the creatures they struck were dead. They needed to get through.

  “Keep moving!” Aria fired off Words to drive the creatures back, and Eric was using his spear more like a club to knock as many of the corrupted out of the way as he could. A few of the creatures leapt onto Eileen, but her thick scales and three heads made short work of them. A winged creature with flaying tendrils flew at Eileen, but Aria was ready. “[Enduring Protection]!” The creature bounced off the barrier, and Eileen continued her headlong charge. This wasn’t a battle. It was chaos. More importantly, however, they were making headway.

  “Stay close, sir.” Miles stepped between his master and a corrupted creature. His fist smashed into its skull like a hammer, and he kicked another in the chest. It wasn’t dead, but the blow was enough to throw it back several yards. “We have to keep moving!”

  “We’re almost there!” Aria yelled. “Don’t stop!” She turned, and her sword traced an intricate pattern through the air. It was a rune. Blinding light burst outward, and the closest horrors reeled away. It lacked the punch of one of her Words, but it was less draining to use.

  Miles struck another monster and grimaced. He was tiring. In his prime, he would barely have broken a sweat. As another creature lunged, he remembered his master’s words. There were far more creatures here than there had been servants. Either their enemy was making more of them somehow, or these things were being summoned from the Beyond. Neither option was particularly encouraging, and Miles shook himself out of his thoughts in time to club another opponent out of the air before it could reach his master. Now was not the time for such concerns.

  “Duck!” Aria cried.

  Miles dropped and tugged his master down as well. An instant later, Eileen’s tail swung through the air, swatting aside more than a dozen creatures in a single blow.

  “Water!” Aria ordered. “Blue Scales, send a wave behind us! We’re nearly there!”

  Water surged backward and swept more of the creatures away as they reached the door. Eileen turned to defend them, and her sprays of acid were accompanied by a small swarm of shadow imps with weapons of their own. Miles couldn’t make out what those weapons were exactly, but they seemed to resemble blowguns in shape and effect.

  “The door is locked.” Jonathan banged on the door. “We need to –”

  Miles sprang forward and kicked the door. It all but flew off its hinges. Behind it was the reliquary. Strangely enough, it seemed to be less corrupted than the rest of the manor, with only a few minor tendrils and vines growing along the walls and floor. Could it have something to do with another artefact? His eyes scanned the shelves closest to him.

  “I cannot see the dagger, sir. Where is it?”

  “I can feel it somewhere down the back –”

  Jonathan moved forward, but Miles rushed ahead as a twisted shape leapt at him from behind a shelf. It was one of the creatures. It must have hidden itself in the reliquary earlier. Miles managed to block its strike, but the blow nearly knocked him off his feet. His forearm ached. Either his enhancement was beginning to fade, or this thing was much stronger than the others. No matter. His master was in danger. He punched it in the face and then kicked it in the side. It staggered back, and Eric was there to finish it off.

  “This way!” Jonathan shouted. “It’s close.”

  Miles rushed to keep up with his master. There could be traps, and his master’s reflexes weren’t quick enough to guarantee he could evade them. Up ahead of them was a small altar with a dagger on it. “Is that it, sir?”

  “Yes!” Jonathan rushed over to the altar, all but crying in relief. “Stand guard, Miles. This shouldn’t take me too long –”

  The floor beneath them trembled, and an ominous rumble came from deep within the bowels of the manor. It was the groan of earth being shoved aside – and the roar of something truly immense giving voice to its rage. Miles cried out in alarm as the floor buckled. Wood cracked. Stone shattered. And the last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him were gigantic tendrils of mutated flesh bursting through the floor.

  A trap.

  This whole thing… it had to have been a trap.

  * * *

  Jonathan was mostly certain he was dead. It was the only logical conclusion. He’d been about to start deactivating the dagger when the floor had given way beneath him. No. That wasn’t right. Something had torn through the floor, and he had a pretty good idea as to what it had been. As a vampire noble, he was quite durable, far more so than any regular human. However, even he wouldn’t survive being crushed un
der tonnes of rubble. He could only hope the others had been luckier. They seemed like good people, and Miles deserved better than to die as the butler of some poor, destitute noble without so much as a castle to his name. Hopefully, Miles would be able to forget about him and retire somewhere comfortable, maybe near the sea – Miles had mentioned he hadn’t been to the beach in decades.

  “You’re not much to look at, are you? Get up.”

  Jonathan opened his eyes. Odd. He couldn’t even remember closing them although that would explain why everything was dark. Slowly, he looked around. He was on the ground, and a tall, broad shadow loomed over him. He yelped and scrambled to his feet as he fumbled for his sword. Melee combat might not be his speciality, but he’d better off with a sword than without one. However, all his hands found was empty air. Where was his sword?

  “Oh, stop that. You’re not going to find anything, and even if you had a weapon, it wouldn’t do you much good here.”

  The person who’d stood over him moved, and Jonathan finally got a closer look at him. His eyes widened. The person speaking to him was a male vampire. He was six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders and the kind of ruggedly handsome features that would have driven the ladies wild. He was a man in every sense of the word, at once regal but also untamed, and the crimson armour he wore with a crimson cloak only added to the air of power and nobility he exuded. His eyes gleamed a deep red, and his dark hair was cut short.

  Even without being told, Jonathan knew this man was a vampire noble. Every fibre of his being screamed it. The urge to kneel was almost overwhelming, something Jonathan had never felt before, not even in the presence of an ancient vampire. But it was only fitting. He’d never met this man before in his life, but he still knew who he was. Every vampire had heard the stories, for even in death, his enemies had not been able to destroy his memory. It was this man – and this man alone – who had managed to unite vampires under a single banner for the first time in their history, his unmatched might, intellect, and wisdom winning him dominion over all of them. Any vampire would know him, would grasp what the sheer weight of his presence meant. This was no mere vampire. This was the Blood Emperor.

  “You’re… the Blood Emperor.”

  “And you’re a vampire noble, or at least, what passes for one these days.” The Blood Emperor’s voice was deep and powerful. If Jonathan ever had to pick a voice for a ruler, this was the voice he’d pick. It oozed charisma and command in the same casual way a dragon did. “You’re a Bloodhaven too, unless I miss my guess. You certainly have the look of one.”

  “Am… am I dead?”

  “A reasonable question given my… fate.” The Blood Emperor smirked. “But, no, you’re not dead although I currently am.”

  “Oh.” Jonathan was amazed by how well he was taking this. And had the Blood Emperor said ‘currently’? “Could you explain what you mean?”

  The Blood Emperor threw his head back and laughed. It was a warm sound, far warmer than the laughter of most vampires. In a way, it was almost human. “Oh, you’re a funny one. I’ve seen ancients reduced to bloody tears after finding themselves in this position. You? You just want to understand what’s going on. Very well. Allow me to enlighten you.” He turned and swept one arm out. The deep, opaque mist that clung to them vanished to reveal a dire, blackened landscape of blasted rock and parched earth. Various beings were bound in chains while others were trapped in cages, buried beneath rocks, or otherwise imprisoned. “Welcome to the inside of the Dagger of the Crimson Dawn. You must have triggered it somehow. As for me, and why I’m here, I was smart enough to bind part of my soul to it when my second-in-command, one of only a handful of people I authorised to use it, tried to murder me with it.”

  “Oh.” Jonathan grimaced. Betrayal was depressingly common amongst vampires, but even so, being betrayed by his second-in-command couldn’t have been a pleasant experience. “They never were too specific on how they managed to catch you by surprise.”

  “Yes, well, numbers do count for something. I was the strongest vampire who had ever lived – I still am, I think – but there’s only so much you can do while facing the world’s mightiest paladins and most of the world’s other mightiest vampires after being poisoned and led into an ambush by your most trusted subordinates.” He grinned toothily. “They expected some casualties, and I was only too happy to exceed their expectations.”

  “Uh… that’s nice.” Jonathan shuddered. The situation the Blood Emperor described sounded utterly farcical. No wonder other races laughed at them. If anything, the legends must have understated his power, so it was no wonder his would-be successors had struggled so mightily to hold together what he’d built. None of them were even close to strong enough.

  “Your being here provides me with an opportunity. To be frank, you’re not dead. The reason you’re here is because the dagger can draw someone in if it strikes them while they are close to death. It doesn’t hurt that the damn thing started to malfunction even before it was reactivated although reactivating it definitely didn’t help. Those idiots really had no idea what they were doing although I suppose that can be forgiven. Our corruption-loving friend, the one who managed to escape, has a knack for driving people mad.” He smiled thinly. “The most important thing is that you’re not dead, and you don’t want to be here. If we work together, we should be able to return your soul to your body.”

  “I don’t know how.” Jonathan paused. “And I’m not very powerful.”

  “I know how, and I am more than powerful enough.” The Blood Emperor clenched one fist. “I am only a shard of the real Blood Emperor – a mere fraction of his soul – but that should be enough. More importantly, if I have an anchor to latch onto, a soul to bind myself too, then…”

  “I’m not sure I like where this is going,” Jonathan said. It was said that vampires of sufficient strength could reanimate themselves even after their bodies were completely destroyed, so long as some fragment of their soul survived. Few vampires ever grew that powerful, and those that did wisely kept the truth – or falsity – of such rumours to themselves. But the Blood Emperor had not only been unbelievably powerful but also extremely well versed in all sorts of ancient and esoteric lore. If anyone could do it… “Are you planning to bring yourself back?”

  Jonathan half-expected a lie. At the very least, he expected some misdirection and dissembling. What he got was far blunter.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “But –”

  “Tell me,” the Blood Emperor said. “I was assassinated because my enemies feared my rule and thought they could do better. How has that been working out for everyone? I don’t know what’s going on outside, but I’m not a fool. I can guess. Given their weakness, idiocy, and penchant for treachery, I think it’s safe to assume that my empire has fragmented into a coalition of loosely allied city-states run by the descendants of cowardly murderers and that any gains I might have made in life have been rapidly eroded by werewolves, paladins, and whoever else happens to be trying to kill us.” He grinned. “Am I close?”

  Jonathan’s jaw dropped. The Blood Emperor was said to have been a peerless tactician and strategist. Clearly, they’d underestimated his genius. “Yes. Yes, you are. In fact, you’re pretty much spot on.”

  “Those idiots,” the Blood Emperor growled. “I could have understood their betrayal if I’d been doing a bad job, but I was actually making the whole empire thing work.” He shook his head. “I was reasonable too, you know. I was emperor, but it wasn’t like I took all their lands away or stripped them of all their power and prestige. They were just too stupid or perhaps too arrogant to realise that change was necessary. In any case, allow me to get to the point. You were muttering about people when you got here. I assume there are people out there you want to help. Do you really think you can help them from in here?”

  It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the Blood Emperor was right. “And if I help you… what do you want in exchange?”

  “I want y
ou to bring me back.” The Blood Emperor smirked. “And don’t worry. I’m not a fool. I reward loyalty. Despite the fence-sitting antics of your predecessors, you will be handsomely rewarded.”

  “I don’t want much,” Jonathan said at last. “Help me and the people I’m with… and I want my castle and my stuff back too. The Department of Taxation took it.”

  “Ah, yes. Them.” The Blood Emperor shuddered. “They were awful in my day too, albeit necessary. Yes, I will aid your friends and allies, and I will see your castle and all your possessions returned to you.” He looked at Jonathan. “Most would have asked for more.”

  Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t want the world – just my small piece of it.”

  The Blood Emperor grinned. “A fine sentiment.”

  “I also promised to help them,” Jonathan said. “The others, I mean.”

  “You seem like a man of your word, Bloodhaven.”

  “Jonathan. My name is Jonathan.”

  “Well, Jonathan, take the deal.” The Blood Emperor extended one hand. “I help you, and you help me. A fair exchange. Besides, do either of us really have any better options?”

  Jonathan reached out and shook his hand. “No. I guess we don’t.”

  * * *

  Aria bit her lip and brought one hand down to touch her leg. It wasn’t broken – she had used a Word just in time to protect herself. However, it was badly bruised, and she’d most likely done some other damage to it too. Standing on it would be painful, and that was assuming it could bear her weight. Even with her magic, she probably would have been crushed by the falling debris if Eileen hadn’t transformed into some kind of gelatinous slime creature to take the worst of the impact. It didn’t help that she’d used a lot of her magic to shield the others from harm, knowing they were less skilled in defensive magic than her. Unfortunately, she’d been too far to reach Jonathan with any of her generic magic or her Words. She had no idea if he was alive or not. He was a vampire noble, so she could only hope that his natural resilience had allowed him to survive.