Chapter 10
Ulfvaldr’s eyes slowly opened, to reveal the ceiling above him. It was not a ceiling he felt familiar with; he had no idea how he had gotten there. As his eyes had fully opened, and he tried to sit up, he suddenly felt really groggy. His head was hurting like crazy, and he felt weak all over; he even wanted to puke all over the floor. But no matter how much he gagged, he didn’t puke a single drop. Slowly, he tried to stand up, and when he finally stood erect, he felt just how dry his throat was. He couldn’t recall ever being this thirsty before. He couldn’t help, but wonder what the hell had happened.
Then, as he really took in his surroundings, he suddenly remembered where he was. It was the house of that old Shaman woman. He couldn’t remember how he got there though; the last thing he remembered was being at the village, talking with Starolf. Wondering, he walked over to a corner of the hut, where a pair of clothes lied. These clothes were a bit different from what the old hag usually wore. They were plain; the Shaman usually wore clothes full of bones and dry skin.
As he took the clothes into his hands, he suddenly remembered. These clothes belonged to Tola. Right Tola. Where was Tola, he wondered. Then suddenly, his hand reached to his side, where a hide bag was supposed to hang. He always had it on him, never letting it go, yet now, it was gone!
That was when he finally remembered. He remembered what had happened; the old hag had tricked him! And, and… she killed Tola; or rather, had the villagers do her dirty work for her. Suddenly, tears starting running down his cheeks, as he had truly realized what was going on. He started walking around the small hut in a daze, then outside the hut, as if he wanted to find Tola; as if it was all a dream. But no matter how hard he looked, there wasn’t a trace of her.
Then he remembered what happened with the Shaman. She said she stole some of his power, and that she used some curse to kill him. Then, why wasn’t he dead? He clearly remembered the pain, and remembered the feeling of his life leaving him. Yet here he was, alive and well. Almost in the same state as before, except the thirst. He had barely lost any power at all.
While still in a daze, he walked back into the hut. Only when he stood in the middle of the hut; the same place he collapsed, did he fall to his knees.
“Why did she die?! Why didn’t I die?! Why?! WHY?!” He screamed as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t understand it. The only person he ever cared for, after becoming whatever it was he was, was killed! And then when they tried to kill him, they couldn’t!
“Why did she need to die?! Why?! Why did they do it?! Those, those, those HUMANS! How dare they take her away from me! I’ll, I’ll, I’ll kill them! I’ll kill the old hag, I’LL KILL HER! The humans, they… they must die,” he said with an increasing fury. Only the last three words were said with cold calmness. It was in that moment that he grew such a hatred for humankind that it went above them just being a food source. No, they were vermin; vermin in need of extermination.
With his eyes still crying, he slowly stood up, with a new conviction. But before he did anything, he needed to be sure; to be sure that Tola was truly dead.
Thus, he set out, towards that village, which he once terrorised. The village where Tola once lived, and where Tola died. The village wasn’t far away, and with the rage in which he travelled, it certainly didn’t take him long to arrive outside the village grounds. The village looked just as ordinary as it always did; a circular wall surrounding it, composed of fallen trees, a hurdle of small huts dotted all over the village. The occasional midnight wanderer, walking between huts. It was as ordinary and calm as it had always been.
Ulfvaldr walked towards the opening in the wall, his eyes bloodshot. There was no one standing guard or anything, so he simply had to walk through the gate. However, as soon as he entered the village, one of the night walkers noticed him. The moment he realized that this person was a stranger, he quickly ran to the tribe chief.
Before Ulfvaldr even managed to get to the center of the village, an old man, accompanied by three large man, as well as the first guy, walked towards him. The old man had a puzzled look on his face, as he got closer and closer. The moment he saw the bloodshot eyes of Ulfvaldr’s, and his nigh manic expression, he even got a bit frightened.
“Who are you? Why did you come here?” The old man asked, but Ulfvaldr didn’t bother answer any of his questions. Instead, he got eerily close to him, in an instant, and asked,
“Where’s Tola?” with a voice that made your hair rise, sent shivers through your spine, and made your skin bumpy. The old man instinctively backed up a few steps, before he even realized the question. However, the moment those word registered in his small brain, his eyes widened. That name, was one he preferred to never hear again.
“Tola? You knew her? She’s… wait, don’t tell me,” the old man said, however, before he could finish his sentence, he seemed to have a realization. After all, there aren’t many people who’d ask where Tola is. And this stranger, with the crimson eyes, didn’t seem like an ordinary traveller.
Ulfvaldr, however, didn’t let him make any further assumptions, as he grabbed him by the neck, and raised him above the ground. The three large men, in return raised their spears against Ulfvaldr in an immediate reaction. However, they didn’t attack right away.
“Where. Is. She?” Ulfvaldr asked once more, one word at a time. The fear in the eyes of the beholder grew ever more apparent.
“She, she,” he stammered, but before he could spit another word, Ulfvaldr grabbed his forearm, and directly squeezed it until it cracked.
“Ghaaaagh!” He shouted in pain, as he grabbed his broken arm with his free hand. Once more, Ulfvaldr looked the old man in the eyes,
“Where. Is. She?” He asked again, just as slowly, but with an increasingly serious tone. The old man coughed for air, as he tried to avert the bloodshot, crimson eyes of Ulfvaldr.
“We, we killed her,” he said. For some reason he found it strangely difficult to lie to those crimson eyes. As soon as his words came out, Ulfvaldr suddenly squeezed even harder, making it even harder for the old man to breath. All the while, the three men were looking on in panic. They simply didn’t dare do anything, as they feared for their leader’s life.
“What did you do to her?!” Ulfvaldr shouted practically in his face, sending spit and saliva on his face.
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“I said we killed her!” He returned in a higher pitched scream.
“No, I mean where did you put her?! Her body,” he said. The old man looked at him a bit differently.
“Her body? We, we buried it, t-to the west of here, just a bit outside the village,” he said, however, as soon his last word escaped his mouth, Ulfvaldr squeezed to the point where his neck cracked, and his body went limp.
“You filthy humans,” Ulfvaldr said, as the body hit the ground. Then, his body blurred, and the heads of the three large men disconnected from their bodies.
While all this was happening, a crowd had already built up around them, and as they saw the three largest men and their leader die, panic ensued. Women and children started running in all directions, while the braver of the men grabbed whatever weapon they could find. However, no matter what weapon they used, it was futile against the might of Ulfvaldr.
As one, particularly brave man charged at him, with his readied spear, Ulfvaldr simply grabbed the shaft of the spear and lifted the poor warrior off the ground, slamming him back down, breaking all the bones in his body. Then, his body flickered, only to appear next to another poor warrior. However, the warrior didn’t even have time to say his prayers, as Ulfvaldr grabbed him by the neck, and bit.
As Ulfvaldr finally felt the sweet nectar of the human being flow through his throat, he felt ecstatic like never before. He directly ripped the throat out of the warrior in his excitement, spilling blood all over his torso. While he was drinking, another man charged at him with his spear, hoping to catch him unprepared, but he wasn’t even given a single chance, as Ulfvaldr grabbed him with his free hand,
“Wait your turn!” He shouted, before he went back to his snack. Only a moment later, one body fell to the ground, and he started drinking from another. All this happened in only a few short moments, as he was able to drain a male adult very quickly.
As soon as the second body hit the ground, he jumped at the next nearest person, and directly ripped his throat out with his fangs, while his hand pierced into the chest of another. One after the other, he killed everyone he could find. He ripped their throats out, tore off their arms, and broke their bones. He drank the blood of women and men, elderly and children.
He ran all over the village, like a frantic maniac, pulling the throats out of any person he came upon, feasted on any woman or man, without discrimination. Like a hungry beast, he drank blood to his heart’s content, until large patches of grass and dirt were coloured sanguine. Each time he passed a person, he would quickly be followed by a spray of blood, sometimes accompanied with a severed limb, or a torn off head.
Yet, even though such a monstrous carnage was spread all over the village, the men fought bravely with their lives on the line. They knew that the very fate of their village was at stake, and if they died, then so did their family and friends. But no matter how many times they attacked, how many times they lunged at Ulfvaldr, they always died, only to become a meal.
One mother was running away, holding her child in her arms, however, the moment Ulfvaldr appeared before her, she knew all hope was lost. Still, in one last, futile attempt, she threw the child away, and charged at Ulfvaldr. But it didn’t go the way she wanted. Instead of ripping the mother’s throat out, instead of tearing her arms of; instead of killing her, he walked towards the young child, only five years old at most.
He grabbed the innocent child by the neck, and raised it up to his eye level. Then he opened his mouth wide, clearly revealing his two, long, sharp fangs, and bit into the neck of the child, and enjoyed the sweet blood, of an innocent child.
The mother couldn’t bear to watch the brutal scene, so in one last, suicidal attempt, she grabbed a nearby stick, broke it in half, and charged at Ulfvaldr. Ulfvaldr, however, didn’t even pay her mind; he was too absorbed in the blood of the young child to even care. Thus, the mother got closer and closer to his exposed back, and finally, when she arrived behind him, she lunged her sharp stick into his back, right behind the heart.
With her adrenalin fuelled attempt, the wooden stick pierced first through the furs, then the skin, and through an opening in the bones, until it finally pierced the heart. The moment the wooden stake pierced his heart, Ulfvaldr let go of the dead child, and turned around in a frantic movement. The mother got directly affected by his rage, as her head was directly torn of her body, before Ulfvaldr fell to his knees, gasping for breath. The pain was so unbearable that he couldn’t even scream.
He tried to turn his head around, to see whatever it was that was stuck in his back. He clawed at his back, but he just couldn’t get his hands on whatever it was. All the while, the remaining survivors were observing. It took them a while to realize what was going on, but as soon as they caught on, they didn’t hesitate.
“KILL HIM!” One of them shouted, as he ran frantically towards the fallen Ulfvaldr, with his spear in hand. As one charged, the others soon followed. Ulfvaldr looked on, as the angry warriors ran towards him, but he couldn’t do anything. He could barely even move. Thus, the moment the first man arrived, he struck his spear into Ulfvaldr’s side, and then another arrived, and another spear was lodged into his body. Like that, two more spears pierced into his skin and bones.
But when the fourth man arrived and struck his spear, he hit next to the wooden stake in Ulfvaldr’s back, and somehow managed to move it away. As soon as the stick went out of his heart, he could move once more, and with four spears in his body, he lunged at the remaining survivors. In a frenzied rage, he tore them limb from limb, and completely desecrated their bodies, until there was not a single living person in the village.
Only after he had killed everyone, he turned to look at whatever it was that had caused that entire situation. It was only then that he realized that it was simply a wooden stick, covered in his own blood.
“This? This, caused me such harm? A simple stick? How can that be? Is my heart my weakness?” Ulfvaldr pondered aloud, as he held the wooden object in his hand.
“Impossible. It didn’t feel like that, back when I got stabbed in the heart, back then,” he thought. Then, he let the wooden stake fall to the ground, and he started walking towards the west, where Tola was buried.
He didn’t run, but he walked, slowly. As he walked through the woods, it seemed darker than usual, and he couldn’t help, but feel like time was flowing too quickly. As he walked, he observed the many animals of the night; they seemed so peaceful; so unafraid. So simple. He hadn’t been told exactly where the grave was, but somehow, he felt like he just knew where he needed to go.
And indeed, an hour later, he appeared in a clearing, where there were signs of a hole being dug recently. In front of that spot, there was a large stone, with hand painted markings on it. The markings depicted a young girl, running away from large saber cats, then being saved by the heroes of the tribe. It showed many things of her life in the tribe, both happiness and sorrow, but towards the last pictures, it showed her being led away, by a tall monster with crimson eyes.
As he saw the pictures, he couldn’t help, but cry. He felt his knees weaken, and he fell to the ground. As soon as his knees touched the ground, he started franticly digging through the ground, until finally, he uncovered a rotting body. The once beautiful body, was now riddled with worms, and her hair was mostly gone. On her throat, there was a gaping slit, and signs of running blood. As he saw the dead body, a new liquid started flowing out of his eyes. A crimson red liquid; tears of blood.
Like that, he sat on his knees, holding her body, crying silent tears of blood. He sat like that for hours on end, not making a single motion, not making a single sound, until the sun started to rise from behind him. It rose higher and higher, until its rays started entering the clearing, until finally, it reached his body.
Then, as he held her body in his arms, his body started burning. It started with the sizzling of the skin, then the skin started to rupture, and then finally, it blew into a full blown fire, crackling in the wind. The fire slowly burned his body, then covered the body of Tola as well, but even then, he didn’t utter a sound. As the sun rose in the sky, it burned the bodies of Ulfvaldr and Tola, until there was nothing but charred corpses left.