The Preternatural Chronicles: Books 0-3

by Hunter Blain

  “I think this one was the real deal, Da. They had like, robes and candles and…other items. Plus, there was a, uh, flagrant, uh, energy in the air.”

  He stopped in midair and raised an eyebrow.

  “Sorry, it is on my daily word calendar,” I said.

  “Do you even bother to read the definition below the word?” he asked like a teacher who knew the child didn’t even have a dog.

  Moving up my sleeve with my middle finger, I said, “Boy, would you look at the time. Would love to stay and be talked down to by a faer— I mean…five-inch angel, but the sun is almost up. So, I bid you ahfuckyou.” That last part had a French twist to it akin to their farewell.

  As I strode past him and into the bedroom, my preter-ears heard him mutter, “I’ll show you five inches.”

  “Very angelic of you, Da,” I called over my shoulder.

  The bedroom had a king-size mattress and frame that provided the real cover for my 100% iron coffin, which was hidden underneath. The iron prevented divination or ranged attacks, such as curses. What can I say? I haven’t lived for more than five hundred years by not having redundancies in place.

  I lifted the foot of the mattress, which was on hydraulics, and revealed my safe space. Bullies would never be able to hurt me here! Inside were a few books by Jim Butcher, Stephen King, Kevin Hearne, and Richard Kadrey that I hadn’t finished yet. There was also a laptop (no, I don’t get Wi-Fi forty feet underground…yet) and LED lighting surrounding the frame.

  At the foot of my hidden bed I had even managed to install a compact industrial fridge to keep my secret stash of “store-packed” red blood cells. They could last me anywhere from six weeks to twelve months depending on the temperature; but the older the blood, the less it quenched. An unsatiated thirst could be excruciating, like a south Texas marathon runner who hadn’t adequately rationed his water bottle. It could consume your every thought and eventually drive you insane. Men had drunk seawater, knowing full well that it would spell their doom, because they hadn’t been able to take it anymore. There was no cost too great in order to get even a semblance of water to pass over their tongues and slide down their throats.

  If a vampire was not hibernating, they could lose their mind in a matter of months of sobriety. So, should I ever become trapped, I had enough blood to sustain me for several weeks, or even months, somewhat comfortably. Or at least enough so I didn’t lose my precious mind. After that, it would be up to Future Me to figure out a plan of escape. Present Me was satisfied knowing I at least had a BOB, otherwise known as a Blood-Out-Bag.

  I lay inside and pulled the strap attached to my coffin lid, closing it, and flipped the switch that turned off all the lights in the bedroom. Next to it was another switch that turned on the LEDs. I flipped it and grabbed the latest book in the current series I was enjoying. Technically, I could ingest entire pages worth of content with just a glance due to my photographic memory; but for the books I read for fun, I preferred the old-fashioned way. Word by word. Had taken me months to read IT by Stephen King. The man creeped me out sometimes.

  As I started to read about a wizard being hired by Bigfoot, my mind started to lose focus and replay the events of the night. My brain just couldn’t fathom how cataclysmic whatever was coming was that other supes were forced to hide in those planes. One of which was presided by the Fae, who were twisted little fucks that could spend centuries torturing anyone who crossed into their territory. Plus, in their world, the Fae were as strong to supes as supes were to humans on this plane. Made my gonads want to retreat into my pelvic cavity every time I tried to comprehend the predatory shift of the food chain.

  I placed the Darth Vader bookmark back between the pages and set it aside. Turning off the LEDs, I stared into the darkness and let scenarios of what might lay ahead run through my mind. Then the dawn was upon me and unconsciousness took hold.

  Chapter 8

  Ireland, 1480

  I stood up, feeling as if I weighed nothing at all, and Ulric placed a hand firmly on my shoulder, steadying me.

  “Careful, John. You could have jumped through the top of this enclosure simply by standing. It will take you time to become accustomed to the new power coursing through your veins,” Ulric informed me like a proud father.

  My eyes shot down to my hands, with the rest of my head following suit. They were normal at first glance, no markings or lines. I flexed them curiously, first stretching them out in a fan as much as I could, then making a fist.

  Ulric strode to the nearest wall and, with a smile in my direction, hammered a fist into the stone wall, exploding out a section.

  Voices could be heard from outside, shouting with urgency. Their commander didn’t appreciate failure, and the men rightfully feared him.

  Ulric picked up a piece of stone that had tumbled to the ground and walked over to where I stood dumfounded. He held it out with an expectant look, and I took the rock from his hand.

  “Crush it,” he said. There was no curiosity in his voice, only a direct command that he fully expected would be followed.

  “With what?” I asked meekly.

  “With your hand,” he said without sarcasm or reproach.

  “That’s impossible,” I said, my brow deeply furrowed with bewilderment at the inconceivable task laid at my feet. Or more appropriately, my hands.

  “For a mortal, yes, but you are no longer human. Now do as I command.” His gaze sharpened, daring me to protest further.

  I squeezed as hard as I could, but the rock stayed whole.

  “John, stop believing in your limitations. Close your eyes,” he said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  An unseen hand swiped the side of my head, stinging a little.

  “What was that for?” I asked dumbly.

  “You will learn to obey me, John. It is for your own good. But first, you must learn. If you are willing to be my protégé, I will hone your powers, and you, John, you will avenge your family.”

  “Family,” I whispered to myself, allowing the flood of emotion that had been placed behind the dam of my rebirth to break free.

  My hands clenched into fists and the rock exploded into sand, falling through my fingers like water.

  “Very good, John. It is time to forget the limitations of your past and embrace the strength of an Eternal,” Ulric said. “Have you noticed your speech has adapted?”

  That brought me out of my focused hate.

  “Ye-yes,” I said, unbelieving. “How?”

  With a smile, Ulric said, “The gift affects us all in subtle, various ways, but there are several consistencies. You probably view your accent now as the proper way of speaking. Because of your subconscious wish, your preternaturally enhanced brain made it so. You can slide in and out of any dialect you wish. New languages will become clear to you, like the brightest moon piercing the thinnest of clouds. Information will flow from the pages of every scroll you gaze upon. It will be as if the ink is replicated onto your mind. One of your lessons will be to create a library in your headspace. Otherwise, you might go insane, as your thoughts will be uncontrollable with so much raw information floating around.”

  I processed what Ulric had said. My mouth salivated with the fantasy of learning every language and knowing everything. It felt like I had just become a man again, realizing that the hay bale I could only drag as a child was now within my power to lift and throw 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 distorted red silhouette through the stone.

  “You see him, yes?” asked Ulric.

  I nodded slowly in affirmation. An unknown part of me was taking control, and I could feel my postu
re changing, becoming more predatory. My shoulders squared and followed the red 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 him through, collapsing the wall. The falling stones and force of yanking him had damaged his body. Both his shoulders were dislocated, and his eyes were foggy. His neck had been broken by the whiplash. Bricks had crushed his nose and knocked out his front teeth. Blood had started to pool in his mouth. A torrent of saliva flooded my mouth, 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 was only self-gratification that you knew could never get any better. After, and especially during coital release, you realized how naïve you had been.

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

  This 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 an infant reaching for its mother’s breast. 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 picking up a stick. I needed that feeling again, and now. It’s all that mattered.

  More footsteps were approaching from the commotion that had been 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 leaped 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 predatory self was still in control and was able to gracefully evade the rushing foliage.

  After a few moments, a vise 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 ear. “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 completely out of my depth, but was willing to learn.

  While consciously taking a degree of control back from my predatory self but still sharing the workload, we turned and I ran at a more controlled pace back toward the compound. I focused on controlling my movements, willing my legs to move with supernatural speed while my PS focused on the peripheral dangers. I dodged rogue limbs that reached out greedily, my feet always finding purchase. There was a slight nuisance, however, with bugs.

  Ulric and I ran through the pitch-black woods, but we were able to see as if it were the 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 severely mangled ghost-white guard. They were on alert, but had their backs to us.

  I looked at Ulric, and he nodded. I leaped 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 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 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 shuffling backward. Turning, my PS saw the prey retreating and instinct took over. I reached out and leaped 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 crimson dagger out of his right palm.

  The few remaining men lay on the ground, trembling in pain and shock after having had all their limbs broken at the joints. Ulric had immobilized them while I’d been lost in my blood wonderland. With a fluid arc of his left hand, Ulric threw the dagger into the right side of one of the men’s abdomen; at the blood-soaked liver. Attached to the hilt was a rope made of the same blood 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 two hundred years before this very day. A grim story my father had told me. But the way he’d played the lute with such grace and magnificence echoed through my mind as I watched Ulric guide the soldi
er’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. 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 attention. I turned, and my gaze fell upon my next trip to paradise. The last soldier lay on the ground, a small—pathetic—pool of tears growing around where his face lay on the ground.

  Pathetic? The thought had come from me, but it hadn’t been 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 night’s air in ecstasy. The wind swept over my skin, bringing a cool breeze to 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 left after your mother was declared deceased. Probably to attend 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 boomed with unrestrained power, causing the stone wall to reverberate, and leaves to fall from their trees in a mass suicide.