Dracula in Bob, the Slaughtering Forest, Part 3

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Dracula was battling with an entire forest. He possessed enough self-awareness to eat when needed and to defend himself, but Bob could no longer be called human or animal. Nor was he simply a thing. He was an army.

Dracula wasn't accustomed to fighting against armies. Usually, his power was secure enough to simply unleash his legions of monsters against the problem until it ceased to be one. Usually, but that didn't mean he wasn't perfectly capable of doing so. That's why those legions of monsters bowed to him.

Prince of Darkness was just a title. He was the king, an absolute monarch. Wielding the black sword wildly around him, its edge not only cut down the branches coming for him but brought them death. It made them start rotting even before they touched the ground. He was the prince of darkness wielding the black sword of Death, the soul-devouring sword.

He would devour this entire forest if necessary, down to the last blade of grass. "If necessary" wasn't accurate. He could escape this fight if he wanted to. He had already achieved what he wanted, so there was no sense beyond correcting the mistakes of his past. But he knew that actually didn't matter.

He didn't avoid this fight because he didn't flee. He was too proud for that, plain and simple. And what more was needed? Pride was something worth fighting for.

The wounds inflicted at the beginning of the battle had already closed. With so many branches constantly coming for him, it was practically impossible to avoid every attack, to cut every limb reaching out to him. But any damage inflicted on him would heal just as quickly. He still had plenty of blood, didn't need to drink anyone to regenerate fast. It better not come to that because there was no target around.

Half a dozen branches coiled around his sword. They pulled him upward, lifting him above the treetops. He turned into smoke before they could slam him to the ground with all their might. Of course, the sword transformed with him; otherwise, the branches would have taken it. The sword was linked to him. It was like a part of his body that moved as naturally as his arms and legs, and anything he could do to or with his body, he could do to the sword.

Dracula reformed his body away, escaping the grasp of the branches. They followed quickly, not wasting a second. Soon he realized he had bigger problems. A tree uprooted from the ground was flying toward him, spinning through the endless blue sky. He had seen it coming from far away, so it wouldn't be a problem, and the dust and dirt cloud it had left behind didn't obstruct his vision.

He wouldn't have trouble splitting it in half or dodging it. No. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and chose to split it. The two halves fell on each side of him, rolling on the ground. He remained unharmed. The branches slid through the gap he had opened toward his face, shoulders, chest. Dozens concentrated on each weak point to dismantle him.

It seemed that no matter how many branches he cut, he wasn't running out of them in the area, his attacks slowing down as he was forced to use trees farther from Dracula.

Could it be true? Did the branches regenerate so quickly in the darkness between the vegetation? He should know these things since Bob had been his subordinate for so long, but well, precisely because of that.

He had had too many! He didn't even know all those who survived more than a few weeks or months personally, let alone the peculiarities of their abilities.

Anyway, it had been a long time. Surely, he had evolved considerably from what he had been in his time. It wouldn't have mattered even if he knew much about him.

He could outlast him, kill every blade of grass in this forest. But if the branches were regenerating, that wouldn't be enough.

He would have to use more drastic tactics. Dracula decided to look more closely and found that his suspicions were true. The branches were regenerating. At this rate, he wouldn't get anywhere. He had to change the pace of the battle, or his efforts would be in vain.

"Okay, okay, Bob. As you wish. No more games."

Dracula focused. Two large wings manifested on his back, feathers as black as a moonless night. He flew above the treetops with the branches closely following.

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"Fall into the depths of hell!"

***

"What the hell is that?" Daniela seemed alarmed.

When Alex raised his head, following her gaze, he realized it was for a good reason. As if a carnivorous living forest wasn't enough, a winged demon had risen above the trees.

"Fall into the depths of hell!"

Ominous. A dark blue laser shot out of its mouth as it opened wide, as if its jaw was unhinged. Upon impact, it set a tree on fire, and the flames spread voraciously.

"What are we getting ourselves into?" Alex dryly remarked. "Hey, let's..."

Nothing. Daniela changed direction, yes, but not to flee. To head towards the flames, towards that winged demon fighting in the air with branches reaching towards it to trap it and tree trunks thrown by the forest itself. She never thought she would witness such a scene.

Their mission was to stop the carnivorous forest, so technically, they were on its side. But only technically. There was no way a creature like that didn't have sinister plans for humanity. We don't even know what it is, and it's not hesitating to approach, she thought, while, of course, closely following her companion.

She just couldn't leave her alone. She would never forgive herself, whether something happened to her in the end or not. Daniela might forgive herself, but she wouldn't, and that was what mattered.

***

It had to happen sometime. He was good, even the best, but it was impossible to stop everything and maintain that pace forever. Sooner or later, something would slip through the cracks. What slipped through was the huge trunk of one of the many trees in this carnivorous forest. Those, he observed, didn't regenerate. Not as fast, anyway. If the same happened as with the branches, it would be annoying.

The tree trunk fell on him. He didn't have time to stop it with the sword or shatter it with another of his many abilities. Not even to transform into smoke before it hit him. So, he fell.

He fell into the depths of the forest. He fell as if wrapped in his black wings. Naturally, he tried to recover, take flight. It was not possible. The impact of his landing formed a crater over ten meters deep.

Bob could be like a natural disaster, but the same could be said of Dracula, just in a smaller package. And he was a hundred times worse than Bob. Than anything that being could do. Even now, freshly awakened from a thousand-year sleep and weakened, it remained true.

He felt humiliated. It was as if he had been squashed like a fly. He couldn't tolerate this. He had never wanted to run from a fight, but now it had become completely unthinkable.

He had to show him that he had made a serious mistake crossing his path. It didn't matter that Bob wasn't in a state to recognize anything, and this battle had no witnesses.

Dracula was superior, but it wasn't enough for him to know it. It was his duty to make him pay for this humiliation one and a thousand times more. The flames were spreading, and Bob seemed to have no way to extinguish them. He wouldn't leave and call that a victory. At the very least, he would have to stay to see it reduced to ashes.

Dracula tried to get up, grunting. Bob didn't want to allow him that. The branches, large and thick as rams, pierced through his legs, chest, and even his neck. Dracula yelled. There was no pain in his voice, only rage. He went mad with the sword and the energy beam shot from his mouth. He tore enough branches to take flight, but he made a mistake. The wings disappeared without a trace, and what he did was plummet back to the ground.

A rough landing. Dracula grimaced, but not because of that. He wasn't at a hundred percent, not even fifty. If only. He should have guessed that his wings wouldn't last long. And he had, but he had acted without worrying about it, as if he had all the energy in the world. That was no longer true, and he had to start acting like it. He wouldn't be defeated... in any way! But better not even give him a chance, however small it might be.

"Concentrate," he thought. "Be sensible." Efficient and to the point. Dracula shot the energy beam high, spinning. As a result, it set the surroundings on fire. If he could bring the wings back, spreading the fire throughout the forest would be easier. Unfortunately, he couldn't do it yet. He had been too harsh up there, too hard, too fast.

He shook his head. What's done is done. The important thing was to do things right from now on. He had holes all over his body, so the grass was painted red with his blood. His wounds were healing, but slower. A drink wouldn't hurt, though. As if fate were giving him a gift, two humans entered the battlefield.

Bob didn't hesitate to attack them, but they manifested a barrier made of magical energy to stop the attacks. Soon, it filled with cracks, but it was holding, which was important. Holding more than he expected, even. But not forever. It shattered into a thousand pieces, leaving them unprotected.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Two women. Two vampire hunters wielding ghostly weapons. Dracula smiled slightly. Justin may not have recognized him, but they surely...

"Who the hell are you?"

Dracula frowned. Well, well, well.

"Are you vampire hunters and don't recognize me? Me? Out of all beings? Unbelievable. Humanity has fallen very low."

"Or you're just too full of yourself," said the other, a young and arrogant girl. Her weapon was a huge lance, seemingly compensating for something.

"I am the Dragon, Dracul. The Prince of Darkness!"

"Impossible, Dracula is dead."

"I am right here, you brat..."

The charge of one of the branches sent him flying far away, stealing the air from his lungs and cutting off the sentence. It wasn't the most elegant way to exit the stage.

Dracula in Bob, the Slaughtering Forest, Part 3: FIN