I’m Glad You’re Dead (The Preternatural Chronicles Book 1)

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I’m Glad You’re Dead (The Preternatural Chronicles Book 1) Page 5

by Hunter Blain


  I processed what Ulric said. My mouth salivated with the fantasy of learning every language and knowing everything. It felt like I was just becoming a man again, realizing that the hay bale I could only drag as a child was now within my power to lift and be thrown around at my will.

  “The men who took your family are on the other side of that wall,” He said, interrupting my thoughts and pointing to where he had hammered out a new window.

  Footsteps were surrounding the structure on all sides, looking for the cause of the noise. I was able to hone in on a set of footsteps walking past the wall in front of us.

  Everything went still. My eyes could perceive a red, distorted silhouette through the stone.

  “You see him, yes?” Ulric asked.

  I nodded slowly in affirmation. An unknown part of me was taking control and I could feel my posture changing, becoming more predatory. My shoulders squared and followed the red man-shaped shadow on the wall. I bent slightly at the knees and leaned forward, my elbows tucking into my sides with my hands outstretched, ready to grab. There was a movement inside my eyes that I had never felt before, and the world around me sharpened. My upper jaw on either side of my lips flexed and my tongue felt preposterously sharp, foreign teeth. But this was just a tickle of a thought as I followed my prey. Everything else took a back seat to feeding. I felt myself become a spectator in my own body. The muscles and thoughts were no longer mine to control. Only the red blur existed, and my overwhelming desire, no, need to consume.

  “Eventually, you’ll be able to see him as if he were right in front of you, not just an outline,” he said. “Now grab him, and drink.”

  The thought of blood motivated me. I didn’t hesitate this time. Slamming both my fists through the wall, I grabbed the guard by the shoulders and pulled, collapsing the wall behind him. The falling stones and force of yanking him damaged his body. Both his shoulders were dislocated, and his eyes were foggy. His neck was broken by the whiplash. Bricks had crushed his nose and knocked out his front teeth. Blood started to pool in his mouth. A torrent of saliva flooded, threatening to spill over my lips as the metallic smell invaded my nostrils. The hairs on my skin stood upright and my nipples hardened.

  “Quickly,” Ulric said, breaking my wave of elation. “Before he passes. Drain his blood.”

  Instinct took control and I pulled him close to me. As he went unconscious, his head tilted to one side. His heart was audibly struggling to beat. My teeth slid into his neck with ease, piercing the artery with an almost practiced precision. Blood spread over my tongue and down my throat, sending shivers through my entire body. My mouth opened in ecstasy and Ulric had to gently push my mouth back to his neck.

  “Keep drinking, John. Don’t just let it pour freely. Control it,” he said.

  It was as if he were a thousand miles away, but I could register what he was saying. Anything to make this feeling continue, I would do without hesitation.

  Warmth grew from my stomach like a wildfire, spreading throughout my entire body. With the flames came untold, indescribable pleasures that no mortal man had ever been capable of putting into words. The awakening was like making love for the first time; before the climax, it had only been self-gratification that you knew could never get any better. After, and especially during coital release, you realized how naïve you were.

  All the raging waters of worry and pain subsided into a pristine glassed top lake as the stolen energy encapsulated my entire being.

  The blood was stronger, substantially more fulfilling than what had come from Ulric, as if the life energy was pure and unfiltered; straight from the well of life.

  Once he was dry, Ulric had to pry me away from the corpse. I reached for it like a child reaching for its bottle that was just taken away. Irritation was plastered all over my face.

  “He is drained, John,” Ulric said curtly, “there are more, fresh soldiers to take.”

  At that, I perked up like a dog seeing his master pick up a ball. I needed that feeling again, and now. It’s all that mattered.

  More footsteps were approaching from the commotion that was created.

  “Follow me. And remember, be faster than you know you are,” he said. With that, he dashed through the hole to the bushes ten yards away.

  I took a deep breath, grabbed the edges of the hole for leverage, then leapt with all my might, hitting the ground sprinting. I weaved between trees and over a creek, barely able to keep up with how fast the forest was rushing to meet me, dodging and weaving. My predator self was still in control and was able to gracefully evade the rushing foliage.

  After a few moments, a vice grabbed the back of my neck and stopped me cold in my tracks. My legs flew out in front of me with the momentum where they waved in the air for a moment. It felt like my shoes were about to fly off.

  “Very good,” Ulric purred in my ears. “You are overcoming the limitations of your mind quite well. But it will take time to learn and hone your new abilities. Now then, let us go exact the revenge you seek,” he said with a knowing smile. I felt like a student on his first day of class—completely out of my comfort zone, but willing to learn.

  While consciously taking a degree of control back from my predator-self (or PS as I call him), but still sharing the workload, we turned and I ran at a more controlled pace back toward the compound. I focused on controlling my movement, willing my legs to move with supernatural speeds, while my PS focused on the peripheral dangers. I dodged rogue limbs that reached out greedily while my feet always found purchase. There was a slight nuisance, however, with bugs.

  Ulric and I ran through the pitch-black woods, but were able to see as if it were brightest day. As the encampment came into view, we stopped at the edge of the bushes. Ulric brushed at his face with his sleeve and I did the same, not knowing what I was expecting. A few crushed insects smeared on my shirt.

  “Disgusting,” I said.

  “Quiet,” Ulric whispered, pointing to the prison I had just escaped.

  The rest of the men had gathered at the hole and found the ghost white, severely mangled guard. They were on alert, but had their backs to us.

  I looked at Ulric, and he nodded. I leapt forward and slammed the heads of two soldiers against the wall, crushing them under their helmets and squeezing out mashed brains, a torrent of blood and chunks of flesh.

  “Don’t waste the precious blood if you can help it, John,” Ulric said from right behind me. “Like this.”

  The guards stood completely motionless with their mouths agape and eyes wide, frozen in confusion. Their brains’ were unable to comprehend what had just happened as there was nothing logical that could explain what I had just done.

  Ulric walked to the closest paralyzed guard and with a fluid, preternatural motion, swiped his hand across the guard’s neck. After a heartbeat, blood spurted out from a clean line, causing the soldier to drop his weapon and reach for his neck. Ulric quickly grabbed his arms and pulled, ripping both limbs completely off. He lifted his hand and the blood erupting from the three holes all started to stream and then change direction toward Ulric while in midair. He moved his hand closer to his mouth and the three streams joined into one and started sliding down his throat. Ulric closed his eyes in obvious pleasure as the blood defied the laws of nature. Everyone stood there stunned, watching. Including me. I was awestruck.

  After a few moments, the blood stopped and the man collapsed to the ground, white as marble. I heard footsteps slowly shuffle backwards. Turning, my PS saw the prey retreating and instinct took over. I reached out and leapt on the closest man to me, taking us both to the ground. My teeth bit in, and then pulled, sending blood flowing from the wound and onto the ground. I could feel the blood, but I couldn’t control it.

  “In time, my eager pupil,” Ulric said. “For now, drink. The more you take unto yourself, the stronger you will become.” He finished his statement with a show of what was to come. Pressing his palms together, he twisted his left hand and proceeded to pull a crim
son dagger out of his right palm.

  The few remaining men lay on the ground, trembling in pain and shock after having all their limbs broken at the joints. Ulric had immobilized them while I was lost in my blood wonderland. With a liquidous arc of his left hand, Ulric threw the dagger into the right part of one of the men’s abdomen; at the blood-soaked liver. Attached to the hilt was a blood-rope that extended all the way to Ulric’s palm. Blood seeped from the wound and ran up the manifestation, flowing into Ulric’s hand. His eyes closed in delight and his mouth hung slightly open.

  I stood in awe, watching the master who had spent untold centuries honing his craft. This must have been what it was like to watch as the Pied Piper lured his prey away some 200 years before this very day. A grim lesson my father had taught me. But how he played the lute with such grace and magnificence, echoed through my mind as I watched Ulric guide the soldier’s life essence unto himself. Blood marched up and around the rope, like an army of liquid ants. With a wheeze, the soldier stopped breathing and Ulric whipped the rope and the blade shot back into his palm. Ulric shivered for a moment as the last drop became a part of him, surrendering its sacred energy to its new master.

  As Ulric recomposed himself, a muffled sobbing stole my focus. I turned, and my gaze fell upon my next trip to paradise. The last soldier laid on the ground, a small [pathetic] pool of tears growing around where his face laid on the ground.

  Pathetic? The thought came from me, but it wasn’t me.

  “Free him from his misery, John,” Ulric said, eyes gleaming. He was creating a monster with minimal resistance and it pleased him.

  I shook the conflicting thoughts from my head and focused on the feeling that I was about to be submerged in. I bent down and bit into his neck, cleanly. The soldier inhaled sharply but didn’t scream. I drank deeply, allowing the new life to enter every cell in my body. I was vaguely aware that I was moaning, or perhaps it was the soldier, I couldn’t be sure.

  After the last drop was taken, I jumped up and threw my hands out. I took in a deep breath and half screamed, half laughed into the nights air in ecstasy. The wind swept over my skin, bringing a cool breeze on my now hot flesh. But I still wasn’t sated. It reminded me of tending to the farm on a glaring summer day and running out of water while the day’s work wasn’t over yet.

  “I need more!” I shouted “I need to be there again!” My fists pumped the air and I pounded my chest.

  “The camp is clear, I’m afraid,” Ulric said.

  Disappointment set in, then panic struck. “What about the commander!?” I asked concerned.

  “He had left after your mother was declared deceased. Probably to attend to other camps in the land. I’ve followed them with some interest.”

  “We must follow him!” I shouted with a sense of urgency. My supernatural voice booming with unrestrained power, causing the stone wall to reverberate and leaves to fall from their trees in a mass suicide.

  “Then we will,” Ulric said patiently. “But first, it is time to sleep.”

  “No!” I shouted at him. “Now!” A chunk of the wall crumbled away from the hole and tumbled on the ground, attempting to escape my wrath.

  Ulric didn’t even flinch at my verbal onslaught, even as dust wafted from his clothing like a beaten rug. He just stared at me with understanding in his eyes. Behind that was annoyance at the spoiled brat who wanted his way or he’d throw a tantrum.

  He took in a long, contemplative breath and said, “Dawn approaches,” and pointed to the horizon. A scowl creasing my face, I followed his hand and had my frustration melt into awe as flames drifted up from the horizon and a quarter of the way into the early morning sky. The flame-tendrils wavered erratically in a beautiful and horrifying dance. They crisscrossed in front of each other, competing for dominance at who would be the biggest and the brightest. The longer I looked, the higher the flames reached into the sky, threatening to envelope the heavens like some sort of world-eating tentacled monster. I had to squint after a minute of taking in the fearsome beauty as the light began to burn my eyes. I noticed my skin was growing uncomfortably warmer as well, like waking in the middle of a summer’s night and throwing the hot blanket off before you cooked to death.

  Birds woke and flew from their branches into the growing inferno of the morning sky. Winged black dots were swallowed by the brightness that only Ulric and I were privy to. Our own private sun-pocalypse.

  “That’s long enough, John. Time to find a place to sleep. Oblivion will always return to humbly remind us of our place in the universe,” Ulric said as he started walking into the woods at a swift pace.

  After a few minutes, when the flames were blazing across half of the sky and I had to squint to see, we stopped at a clearing. Ulric said, “This will suffice.” He put his hand out in front of him, palm outstretched, and a string of blood left his body. It snaked in the air, then divided into two ropes where it divided yet again and pierced into the ground at four points. The blood-ropes started moving in a rectangle pattern, leaving lines in the earth. After the shape was complete, the blood congealed into one wide line that shoved into the bottom of the rectangle like a shovel, then moved forward, lifting the dirt. The blood lifted a large section of earth up ten feet in the air creating a large hole that was three or four feet deep. Ulric stepped in, laid down comfortably and said, “You better get started.” The earth started slowly descending on him. “Otherwise the sun will burn your immortal essence.” As he finished, the dirt was upon him, sealing him off with only a slight mound to indicate his presence.

  I stood looking at the mound and repeated out loud what he had said, “Burn your immortal essence.” At that, the sun crested the horizon and I could feel its power sting my skin. The direct light was still in the sky, not even touching the tree tops yet, but the fierce power threatened to ignite every cell in my body.

  Dropping to my knees, I started frantically digging in the earth beside Ulric. I was growing weaker as the seconds ticked on. My eyes were growing heavy and my arms were filling with sand, becoming less agile and ignoring my direct commands. I got about half way through when I saw the light hit the top of the trees next to where I was.

  Staring at the top of the trees, I could see with my new eyes that the air was wavering with heat where the light touched. Panic can be an amazing motivator, but the closer the light came, the harder it was to move my muscles. At some point, I lifted my head in exhaustion, the light slamming into the back of my skull. A white sheet of pain spread down my head and through my body, stunning me. I fell forward, incapacitated. My slack-jawed face lay on the ground, staring as the light approached, inch by inch.

  I weakly pulled my limp body as far as I could into the incredibly small hole I made. Grabbing a mound of dirt with my clawed, numb hands, I pulled as much earth over my head, neck, and upper back as I could. As I reached up again to try and shovel more dirt, the sun struck my hands and incinerated them. I could tell by sound that they fell to the ground, useless.

  The burning was immeasurable and impossible to describe with words. I could only sob in agony as the light moved up my arms and down the rest of my uncovered back. I could feel the skin start to bubble and liquid oozed down my sides. I inhaled a mouthful of dirt and tried to scream, but nothing came out except a squeak. The dirt underneath my face soaked with a flood of tears.

  I could feel my body contort as the muscles were dried out and shrunk, threatening to pull my head free. I flexed my neck muscles and stomach to the point of snapping to try and keep my head submerged. My back muscles withered and crumbled to ash. The sun violated my internal organs next, causing blood to bubble up and seep through my mouth. I had to focus on the fact that I wasn’t choking because I didn’t need to breath, anymore.

  I couldn’t feel my legs anymore, and the skin on my stomach was starting to smolder. I gritted my teeth and felt a tooth shatter.

  After minutes of immense suffering, my nerve endings finally shriveled and became worthless. Once the pain
subsided and the damage was done, I plummeted into unconsciousness and my first preternatural dreams.

  Chapter 9

  Now

  Dreams for a vampire are in a league of their own. The preternatural mind can weave such vivid horrors that even H.R. Giger would curl into a fetal position and weep in terror. It can also construct the purest bliss of a dream that makes you never want to wake up. This night was particularly terrifying.

  Winged men sheathed in blindingly reflective, golden armor and wielding gladiuses coated in fierce, white/blue flame battled grotesque monstrosities adorned with black armor and brandishing crude weapons—both made from obsidian originating from the immense lava pits in Hell.

  Scattered over the seared ground were beautiful cadavers intermixed with deformed beasts, all of which had varying degrees of mutilation and carnage. An extinguished gladius lay nearby with a coat of black, viscus demon blood. Not far was a severed hellion’s hand with a sheet of pristine flesh pierced on the claws. On closer inspection, it was a face that sagged in a perpetual frown like the Tragedy mask associated with the theater. My eyes continued to take in the disaster scene.

  The skyline appeared to be a decimated downtown Houston, as if a meteor hit a bullseye on the city’s center. Skyscrapers crumbled. Everything in sight was bathed in flames. The sky swirled angrily with black clouds and crimson linings. Balls of fire dropped from the heavens and course corrected to the heat of the battle, crashing in an explosion of white flame. Savage angels rose stoically from the flames of impact and joined the fray.

  Colossal craters spouting hellfire of red and green littered the ground as far as the eye could see. Clawed, nightmarish limbs grasped the dead earth and hauled truly horrifying behemoths onto this plane. Thunderous bellows shook the ground, sending shockwaves that would liquify a mortal’s organs.

 

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