The fight with the wolves really tore me up, and it seems that snare finished me. I overestimated myself, but how could I not? I've hardly fought before in my life, let alone with these new abilities. I've defended myself in bar fights, against other men with their unjustified rage and need to prove something to themselves. These wolves were another matter, they fought for their pack, together as a unit. Each one I killed only emboldened the rest. They bit the crap out of me. I used to like dogs, but those bastards are dangerous. Mans best friend my ass.
Now, all was blackness, I thought I'd fade away into unconsciousness as my vision faded but I didn't. After a few moments my panic quickly escalated. I simply drifted through darkness unable to do anything else I screamed, out of fear, sadness and frustration I shouted. My throat became sore from screaming into the void. It was all I could hear- the frequency of my voice thrumming through my body. I was alone only with my thoughts for company. The women from the hut, she killed me I was sure of it. Her vines had rent my body totally. So this was death. I wept, I mourned, I shouted and cursed. But still I floated in this abyss. Forgotten, exiled from the light that is life. I wished I could fade away, if this was death why would existence not let me go? I felt more aware with sobering clarity like never before... Insanity would inevitably take me before any kind of sleep. I knew that for a certainty. Please- I prayed, to whichever god would listen. I didn't worship any particular god, there were many and all represented different things. But life had convinced me there was likely something out there. Beyond everything I knew. But no god answered. My life was nothing special, I thought. Why keep me suspended like this? I only lived humbly, forging random goods for people. Just bits and baubles. Part of me did regret that, my life had so much more potential. Part of me missed it, but part of me wished for something more. I felt betrayed by the hypothetical god.
How long had it been? It was impossible to tell. I began to search my memories, the only things I could still see. I brought up visions of my city, my old one, before the bandits razed it to the ground. One moment I was laughing at the dinner table, another playing in the river. The sun was brighter then, it was easier to pass the time this way. Just as I began to feel less anxious- the visions turned against my will, almost as if a rain cloud rose above me, chasing me through my memories. Calling me back to reality. I saw the raiders storm through the city. Slaughtering friends and people I've known all my life, leaving only my father and I alive as we fled. My brothers, my sisters crying out -stirring me from my sleep in the dead of night. These painful, dreadful memories were too difficult relive- I'd rather be left alone in the dark. But then, slowly, I felt lifted from my visions. I felt movement as if the swirling color of what I was seeing turned to smoke and flowed around me, forming new images. I was pulled into memories I haven't seen before, things I was sure would have happened somewhere, or situations I've heard of having happened.
I drifted from my town as if I was pulled. The smoke stretched out far and vast like a cloud around me, then solidified into land, trees, and all manor of things. Instead I saw other peoples villages on fire, war camps miles long of tents and camps surrounding them. Dwarfing them. Furious men rampaging the streets- raping and pillaging. After a flash I saw what I could only assume to be their leaders kneeling before ancient vampires. Their eyes glowing a menacing red. These were more than memories, I saw them. I couldn't turn away. The smoke reformed. As if I was a body-less apparition I floated through the air over corpse strewn battlefields next. Wounded men laid covered in blood and shit as warriors searched for survivors. Stabbing down and ending their misery. Some cold and lifeless already as others cried out for their mothers before they inevitably went cold as well. I blinked away tears as the scenes unfolded before my eyes. Forced to watch and unable to do anything. The horror, the pain. These feelings hardly felt like my own, they felt like the memories themselves permeated them. Like music it hit me in powerful waves. I felt an ancient frustration at the stagnation of things continuing to remain unchanged for so long. Just an endless prison of inevitable repetition. I didn't know how I understood this only that I did. It solidified in my gut as if my heart turned to lead. These fools. The insanity. A desperate need to save them from themselves.
I began to shout again, to scream myself hoarse. My increasingly heavy center pulled me back down, into the ground and back away from the visions and memories. Down towards a black ocean. This was simply inconsolable, I grew defiant. My anger rose to match my sadness and I cursed the people, the bloodthirsty fools, the gods, myself and everything. The pathetic squabbles, the inability to do what was so simple. Just to live in peace and be happy, it was so simple, the earth provided plenty for all. I had never felt such raw fury before. Let me explode, into nothing- I thought as I am enveloped by blackness. I would not be a plaything for whatever this was- this vision was. I am more than this. I punched out and clawed at the darkness.This fever dream had gone on long enough, I saw just how flawed humanity was and how foolish we had been as a people - fine. I got it. If this was a dream I was willing myself to wake up.
The crisp clarity of the vision faded. After a moment I realized I was breathing- I saw my breath pushing dust into the dimly lit air ahead of me as I blinked. I stand and Look up- a violet moon shone in the starless sky, overlooking the cemetery I was in yesterday. I was in my clothes just before the vampire attack, I felt fresh and clean again. How nice. Withered rose bushes and crumbled mausoleums were strewn about surrounding a winding stone path. With not much else to do, I followed the flagstone path into its center where the light of the moon seemed to shine brightest. A statue that was not there before during my visit stood overlooking the center. A large basin was in her hands, over flowing into two separate streams on the ground. One stream had water and the other had a dark red ichor that seemed to flow more slowly. It emptied into two grates in a sort of town center, in this city of death. A courtyard with concrete benches and small bird fountains around it. My violin sat leaned against the base of the statue, I noticed.
I immediately grabbed it and started playing the first song I learned to play. The urge was too powerful to do anything else. It felt good, to give my emotions a place to be. Even though the song was not an angry or a sad one, it sounded like it. It was meant to be jovial, but my tempo, my intensity changed it. I didn't know enough songs that meant whatever I was feeling. Notes that were meant to be fast and upbeat were slowed and drawn out. I stood beneath the statues pouring streams. I didn't know why I was back in this cemetery, or if I was dead. But I played anyway, music is still music regardless if it was dreamed or not. The music grew louder with aggression, to match my building frustration. Memories once again flashed through my mind, this time I willed them into being. Confronting them. Flames licked at the sides of my vision as I saw the town overrun with crudely armored men and women- the fire mirroring the flicks of unbridled fury I felt. Threatening to overwhelm me. I played loud enough to cover the screams of others that shouted into the void just before their ends. Over the voice of my father as he called for me to follow. Instead I let the building that was burning down around me collapse as he shouted from the door. After my song builds to a crescendo I throw the violin into the statue shattering it. It was a haughty move, I regretted it the moment I felt it leave my fingers. A lesson I routinely learn and seemingly never grow from.
I was breathing heavily, tears marked my face like sweat. With a growl of frustration I wiped my face and turned, then suddenly I was shocked to see a women sitting in the small courtyard across from the statue. She is smelling a withered rose in her hand and thumbing the thorns, seemingly unperturbed by my presence. She glanced up to me over the rose, her eyes glowed bright violet, her makeup and hair were of similar shades, her sleeveless gown was an expensive looking lavender silk. It created a deep V between her breasts. "Bravo." She said as she tossed the rose at my feet. I stood flabbergasted, I looked around for anyone else I may of missed, but no, it was only her. "Who are you?" I asked. A feeling of embarrassment starting to over power my confusion and other emotions I was just feeling. She smirks, "Who are you? You're the one showing up uninvited." she said, standing up. She walked past me to the statue, reaching down and picking up a now no longer shattered violin. She thumbed my mothers initials that were inscribed at the bottom.
"I'm Jarrath. Are you dead too?" I asked. She shook her head slowly- "This is no place for the dead." she said solemnly. "Though I could see how you could be confused considering..." she took a deep breath as if preparing herself. "I'm not sure where this place is, only that we called to each other. Across the black." she placed a hand on the statues base affectionately. "I awoke here too, like you. Long ago." she looked up to the statues face. Then began to play a song of her own on the violin. She far outclassed me, she seems to of had more official training. It was full of melancholy rather than the rage I had exhibited. After a moment she stopped prematurely, and with a gentle toothless smile handed it to me. I took it, but I did not play it. "I'm Penelope. Nice to meet you Jarrath.", she said lifting the sides of her gown in a curtsy.
"Do you know why we're here?" I asked. She shrugged- "I think I know why you're here... at least." she said, sweeping her long gown behind her as she began walking the various rows of mausoleums and rose bushes. I followed at her side. The air wasn't cold, it wasn't warm, it felt as though we were walking through nothing. "You ever wanted something so bad, that you swear you'd die for it? Jarrath? I have. Only death was never in my cards, and neither was the object of my desires. And I fought so hard." she said, clenching her fists. Fury building behind her eyes as we walked. "I imagined a land where people would rather die than kill, but over the centuries it never came to be. A land of common sense, of principles, of basic decency. Do you think such a thing would be so fantastical? So impossible?", "No, I suppose it shouldn't be." I said. I felt a similar sentiment myself, though I never thought to create that land myself. Only to find it. "Oh, but it is. My siblings, my family, would only ever bond over their sadism and base desires. Too enamored with being at each others throats, too obsessed with vengeance and greed to see anything else. Victory and defeating someone else.".
I don't see how she could've possibly failed, she practically radiated power. She must've been the god Ribs spoke of, honestly. It would explain the color pallet. "Does any of that answer why I'm here?", she nodded, and stopped me by putting a hand on my shoulder. "You want the life that you were robbed of. You want them back." she stepped away, "I could offer what many people offer those in your position. A sword, some training, to go and get revenge against exactly who it was that day... But with this place- with my power- we can give it all back to you instead." she said. Outstretching her arms around herself referencing the cemetery around her. Oh, there it is. A bargain. This isn't some saving grace by some altruistic goddess. How disappointing, as far as fever dreams goes this isn't going well. I'll probably have to kill a lot of people as a vampire, just so that she resurrects my family- probably as vampires and we what? Live in the shadows sucking on peoples wrists? Would my siblings be forever in their teens? What a dreary and shitty existence. Almost as if she could read my expression, she spoke quickly again. "-Don't. Don't you dare." she said, holding a finger up between us. "I understand being skeptical, but don't be arrogant. This is a fair opportunity considering the time we live in. You know, the world could end. My species won't stop until they have every human bowing at their feet.".
I just nod a couple times, in contemplation. She seems to of suffered like I suffered, I didn't want to be abrasive over such insignificant details as who is exploiting who. Whether it's a good opportunity or not. It was rather clear where my powers came from after all. She likely told her skeleton to find some random mook and turn them, then get them to do some horrible acts for her in order to be cured. And so far, she's only vented at me. She doesn't make me feel like a person that's her equal with his own agency. Sure, our dreams aligned somewhat- but mine aren't nearly as lofty. I just want to carve out a small space for myself. It's greedy sure, but also possible. To live a simple life and fade, that's all. Nothing so grand as creating a nation of peace and progress. I sigh, loudly. I shifted my violin that was tucked under my arm uneasily. "So what, you can literally bring the dead back to life?" -Penelope quickly nodded. It was hard to not believe her, she seemed so confident. But if she could do that then why was their no historical accounts of resurrection? How could I have any faith in her promise? And I assumed such a grand promise would require absolute devotion to her cause. That's a lot of work for hypotheticals.
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"What do I have to do?" I asked. Penelope just shook her head, "Whatever it is- isn't it worth it? That's why I'm offering so much, only assume that whatever it is that I ask of you will match that price.". "No.", I said, affirmatively. "Jarrath..." she began to say but I interrupted her- "No one is that powerful, I've never heard of people rising from the dead before. And even if you could there's no way I'd sign my life away just so my family could be blood hungry parasit-" *slap* my head whips to the side and as I put a hand up to my cheek I see her eyes bright with poorly contained fury. "You'll be grateful. Just to wake up and to see them smiling again, free from ceaseless conflict, free from the sadisti-" she paused putting a hand to her throat. "You think you're better than us? Because you didn't choose this? Fine," she said, swallowing hard, looking left to right quickly as if in rapid contemplation. Her brows raise in an epiphany. "Let's see how that works out for you." in a movement faster than my sight could follow- she shoved me back and I found myself falling. With a thud I land back in the cell I was in when I first changed. The familiar clumps off moss and root hanging from the hole in the ceiling. I looked up to see the purple moon cresting around her head like a halo. The moon flairs brighter until all I can see is purple light. I hear distancing voices as the cell fills with the bright light. "We're so close... Why do all humans have to be so short-sighted...", "He'll come around milady, idjits like him just need time. He's worried tha-" I hear two voices fade as the light flairs brighter and I find myself being pulled backwards through everything I just saw. The visions, the blackness, our meeting- all of it.
---
"Huuuuh!" I take a deep exhale as I come to. Looking around in my immediate vicinity I notice I'm outside the cabin strung up on a tree. Something feels off, like that feeling of starting to get ill. I can notice that much already, besides the tight vines gripping me to the tree. I shivered. The cold morning air was brisk, it was so windy my hair was whipping about. There was no one around- I needed to get down before the sun came up which was very, very soon. I felt a cool sensation deep in my bones, I heard crackling, my body was probably still knitting itself back together. My eyes were hot and puffy. Lips dried and cracked. The vines were tougher than rope it seemed and had no give. Luckily these ones didn't have thorns any larger than a rose bushes. Someone heard my struggling it seemed as Kendra and her grandmother appeared from within their hovel. "It's finally awake! Perhaps your powers were... exaggerated?" She asked rhetorically, pleased with herself. "Nana. Stop it. Jarrath- you have to convince my grandmother you're not a threat to other people- she refuses to see reason. Claims that her books say that you're a slave to your inhibitions. Unable to keep yourself under control-", "She's right." I interrupted her. "I do lose control." her grandmother looks back and nods at her when I say that.
"-But only when I've gone without blood for so long! I'm fine so long as I get just a bit! You two could give me a bit- just until I get back to my group and then I can-" I shout my excuses at them. But they seemed to become more and more distant as I do. "I don't want to hurt anyone! Please, just let me down- after I heal is when I get the hungriest." I was being honest, I didn't know how long it took to lose control, what conditions I had to be under, hardly anything at all. I knew that if I didn't eat blood regularly, I would gradually lose control until I'm a monster. That was enough it seems, as Kendra only looked on in disbelief at my words. We didn't know each other well, we only met last night. But we we're fast friends, I'm sure of it. She was so positive and forthcoming when we met- even if we've hardly talked yet. So eager to help. "Well then... Then..." she began saying deep in thought- "Then I guess the only way forward is quarantine and experimentation? Until we know more?" she asked, her worry from before seemingly dissipated. My jaw drops. Was her worry before just out of common decency towards a sickly person?
"I told you I know enough from my tomes girl. Go, read the ones I've selected for you. I will start learning what we don't know yet." Kendra nodded without sparing me so much a glance and left the old women standing before me. Noticing my reaction, she makes a sympathizing grin. "She's a nice girl really, she's a lot like how I was in my youth...", she walks up to the side of the tree producing a dagger. "She learned to follow two things in life, like a religion. First was a devotion to healing the sick, those in our provocation take an oath you know-" she slashes my entangled wrist causing a clumpy thick greenish-black blood to slowly leak out. It hurt a bit but I've been getting used to worse lately. She collected it in a vial. "Her second devotion is her research... Apart from those two things she's what many in our profession would call a psychopath." she puts cork on top of the vial. A psychopath? I've heard of those, they're people who don't really feel anything and just fake it all to fit in. They're supposed to be very rare though, but who could say if they're so good at pretending not to be psychopaths? She seemed so naturally likeable though...
I feel a gentle slapping on the side of my face, I look towards the older women who smiles bitterly. "Men, you're so simple. And that's why a women like my granddaughter is beyond your understanding. She doesn't need your sympathy, your affections, she doesn't even desire it. She only desires what matters. Her mentality makes her so adept at our practice, she has so much raw potential... So please, keep your trifling thoughts to yourself." she said, turning to walk away at a gingerly pace. I'm not overly disappointed about Kendra, I barely knew her. I don't know what I could say to a psycho that would have an impact. There's no reason to talk to either of them further anyway it seemed, they both are set in their opinions about vampires. But I sincerely thought our friendship had potential. In the little ways she talked, her body language, it was all so inviting and friendly. Now that I learned it was all an act, I feel like a fool. Like she only led me here to study me further. Part of me resented her for that, but it is true- I am a threat to others. They're hurting me now, for the good of many. If I don't get the blood I need, who knows how many days I'll be able to stay in control? 3, 4? Could be two weeks for all I know. Maybe this is for the best, what was I going to do anyways? Find my father, get a system setup for feeding, and live night to night working a forge? They left me alone in my thoughts.
After awhile I started to get antsy, did they not know the effect of the sun on vampires? Surely they did... But it was approaching, I could see the orange glow start to feather the horizon. Just as I was about to call out to them they reappeared from the cabin. Kendra was holding a tome at her side, her expression neutral. The old women had her staff in her hands, it was like a branch torn from a tree. It swirled at the top into a hammer shape. Bits of leaf were growing off it. She stomped it on the ground and I felt the vines around me start to worm and swirl around my limbs and body. It felt a bit disturbing to say the least as they wrapped me over and over until I could no longer see. "Hey- stop it!" I shouted to not avail. I felt my arm pulled by the vines until it was outstretched away from the tree, the only part of my skin still revealed. "Now Kendra, why do we suspect the sunlight is harmful to those with vampirism?" she asked quizzically.
I heard pages flapping as Kendra looked into the tome she carried- "Like their fungi progenitors vampires do not obtain any kind of nutrition from sunlight, but their body still attempts to synthesize with 7-dehydrocholesterol, a molecule present throughout the skin but most highly concentrated in the lowest layers of the epidermis-" her grandmother interrupts her with a slap on the shoulder. "No girl! What have I told you about our work?", "To not explain everything like the assholes we study from documented it.", "Yes good. You're not a parrot, we're teachers and healers. Now say it like a human being." she said. "So..." Kendra begins, finding her words. "Essentially, vampirism is a combination of a parasitic fungi like the cordyceps and the human body- while some evolutions are beneficial, some are non-beneficial. And the human bodies ability to draw in sunlight combined with the mushrooms unfamiliarity with such a process creates a combustion on the celluar level... You see the cells-" she says, finding her rhythm she almost sounded excited to go on. But her grandmother must've told her to stop through some manor of body language. As I was still blinded by vines it was hard to tell. "Now, let's observe this process to verify our information so then we can ask the right questions." the older women said as I feel the vines on my arm move to expose as much skin as possible.
---
The idjit got himself caught, AGAIN. Ribs really was beginning to feel like a parent, dotting after his clumsy ducklings like a mother goose. Or swan. Some bird with dumb little bird babies. Ribs had tracked the troll but realized Phil had followed them from the cemetery. He had to return him to his fancy pillow and then go find Jarrath again. But he disappeared from the cave the troll lived in. Ribs saw his handy work himself. Handy work. Ribs laughed to himself internally. Luckily Ribs had gotten a message from his lady. She told him that Jarrath was in mortal peril, and where to find him. It's hard to remember anything else, it was a dreamlike trance he entered and often times afterwards he'd find himself forgetful of everything but the most crucial bits of information. Likely a tactic his mistress employs to limit how much information he brings out into the world. In any case, she was right. He was in mortal peril, how embarrassing for an immortal being. Ribs would make sure to rib him for it later. Of all the people to find in the middle of the woods- vampire researchers. What are the odds? Fate is a cruel bitch, Ribs could only imagine what Jarrath felt like. Man had the luck of a gambler in debt to the mob. Ribs disappeared and reappeared at the top of another tree branch, getting a better perspective. A birds eye view. Ribs stifles a chuckle from his own joke. Ribs was so smart and humorous, he thought. Jerry was likely outside their ability to actually kill, but Ribs didn't have the time to wait until the following night to act. He had to get him out as soon as possible or their plans would be set very far back.
So he conjured a plan. It would be a masterful plan. Full of twists and turns, people would be awed at his tact and wit. Only long after he was gone would they wonder; "What manor of trickery was this! Surely only the most intelligent and handsome of swashbuckling skeletons could have pulled such a thing off!". Ribs ruminated on the thought pleasurably for awhile as he watched the two women bicker over their science. He could go invisible, teleport to Jarrath, cut the vines and have Jarrath run. But that wasn't so dramatic or interesting. It didn't appeal to Ribs thespian nature. And who knows what that devilishly seductive women with the staff was capable of. So far it seemed she controlled plants... Could she kill Jarrath with plants? Ribs didn't want to belittle the beautiful women, but a green thumb is hardly a warriors weapon. He must've already been weakened first.
The younger girl, only a bit younger about thirty or forty years at least- seemed aloof and easily distracted. It would be easy for him to kill her, hide her body nearby, cause a noise to draw her older sister over and then while she was distracted by grief he could escape with Jarrath. It was genius, Ribs thought. But murder hardly fits within Jerrys feeble moral faculties. He was fragile now, like a little bird egg. He'd likely side with his captors, he's that unintelligent. Unlike Ribs. He would certainly refuse to do what Ribs wanted if he didn't save him in a way that caused him to be grateful. Maybe he should let them experiment a bit further if only to garner more of that gratitude. If only Phil was here, Ribs wondered. What would Phil think? Honestly of the two he thought Phil was the smart one, he always knew where to find earth worms and little crawly things to eat. Maybe he would know how to distract the two for a moment so that Ribs and Jarrath could escape.
Just as Ribs thought of Phil, a guinea pig walked into the semi-clearing and started squeaking up to the two women. How could he of traveled here? Did the mistress call for him as well? Immediately the two women began to fawn over him, Phils mastery of the opposite sex was impressive to say the least. "Damned Phil, you won't impress the mistress this time!" Ribs thought loudly to himself. Pumping himself up. Who is does hamster think he is? He can't show up and steal the glory every time. It brings their completely platonic and friendly relationship into question. If he was a true friend he'd allow Ribs to show off every now and then. Ribs could tell too, while he was without his coffin until a little while ago, Phil was freshly rested and practically radiated his fierce powers. Ribs would have to act quickly or Phil would take the lions share of glory. Phil chirped happily as the older of the two pet him. It was almost too late, he already had them under his thrall. Jarrath would be free and have no reason to be grateful to anyone but Phil. But what could Ribs do that Phil could not? That was when Ribs had his sudden epiphany. And a plan suddenly came into clear view. It was so obvious. He would kill Phil.