Walking down the corridor, there was silence amongst the group. The corridor was quite wide, large with windows on each side lining it for an awfully long time, letting in a generous amount of light. There was no doubt the castle was made quite grand.
The corridor truly seemed like it had no end. Bart was about to mention how peculiar it was, when he noticed Prose’s wings shutter while sitting on the shoulder of the Shade. Prose quickly turned his head, his eyes opened wide. Bart only noticed now how red they were, in their intense shock and unknowing.
Bart felt the extendable arms of the Shade grab each part of him, lifting him off the ground. He turned around his head in extreme fear, for the grip was extremely tight and he knew he was a twitch, just a moment away from absolute death. His eyes looked for mercy in the Shade’s, and it was there he saw an extreme aggression pointed towards somewhere else in the distance.
And then the scream, the one he remembered from long long ago. It echoed throughout the castle, and he nearly screamed himself. It went on for too long, dreadfully so. It was anguishing, the pain, the desperation behind it.
After the scream ended, Bart felt something dark. It crawled its way through the castle, consuming everything in its path, asking for everything, tainting everything. It was unnatural to the extreme, a twisted malignancy cursing the world for just a moment. It seemed to stall where they were looking for something, but it left, unable to get its prize. It echoed forth, and minutes passed before anybody moved. The shade’s arms let Bart go, and his countless limbs retracted into his body.
Bart looked around in fear, and spoke. “What was that? Why!” He was quite fearful, for a myriad of reasons. HIs voice was a whimper, not throwing blame but still quite distressed at the situation at hand.
Epim looked to Prose, for he also needed an explanation.
Prose eyes returned to their normal, but his face gave away his distaste for what just happened. “I don’t have an answer, as usual. But that was something intentional.” He looked at the environment with a higher level of scrutiny, and a certain amount of hate was evident in his gaze. “A spell? Not quite” He grinded his teeth silently in frustration, unable to come to the right words. He instantly perked up, coming to his conclusion. “Bart, it has to do something with your lord. If it would have touched you I fear you would have become quite feral. The Shade was right to move you, it doesn’t exist in the air. It can only take through those connected to earth.” He looked over to the Shade in admiration, and then clearly resigned himself to deep thought as his eyes darted for a moment at Epim.
Epim looks over to Bart. “Well, I think that sounds quite good?” Bart nods, looking back at the Shade and bowing thankfully. Epim took no notice of Prose’s deep thought, or of his own seeming immunity from whatever had made its way through.
They continued on until the corridor opened up to a large ballroom. Inside the ballroom was a skeleton, one that matched Elder Bayt’s frame almost perfectly, quite large in its entirety. Although not every piece was intact, the skull laid on the ground pristinely, as if it had never gone through a day of age. This was odd as it would have been another Bloodsucker that had lived for a long time, much like Bayt. The group looked at it in silence.
“Whatever this place is, it’s not a castle anymore. It’s a tomb.” Epim speaks, his disappointment evident. “There’s no honoring here, though. I suppose that means it's just a grave.” Prose approves the sardonic remark by Epim, quite displeased by the sight himself. He thinks of a remark himself, but decides there is beauty in allowing the moment to settle.
Turning around in frustration, Epim sees the yellow eyed Bloodsucker standing in the entrance to the corridor they came from. It smiles clearly, looking at them as if they were all morons. It stamps its forearms down twice with a heavy impact.
A vibration runs through the ground, the same moment a spear shoots itself out from Bart’s back, aiming towards the head of the Bloodsucker. It misses, planting itself into the side of the wall, leading Prose to exclaim out loud. “WHAT!?” His right eye twitches. Although he was exhausted, there was not a moment he thought it would affect his accuracy with his otherworldly ability.
The Shade and Epim prepare to rush forwards, until the Bloodsucker thumps its arms against the ground again. Thump, Thump. The sound echoes out into the ballroom.
Epim holds his right hand out to call his scythe, and nothing appears. His eyes go wide in shock. Another thumping, and the Shade seems to lose all its strength, nearly falling backwards. The white shine of its eyes dim.
Another thumping, and Bart feels the weight of the weapons on his back now much more than before. He feels himself collapse to the ground, and his breathing becomes laborious. He tries to strain his eyes open, but they fall closed despite his efforts.
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Another thumping, and Prose falls off the Shade’s shoulder, plummeting to the ground. Bart struggles to move, using his body to intercept the fall. Prose’s wings droop and he closes his eyes.
Thump, Thump. The Shade falls backwards fully now, landing on its back. The white glow of its eyes is now completely dark. Its extendable arms go limp.
Thump, Thump. This time Epim felt himself becoming faint, his power leaving him. He stumbles backwards, his hand scrambling behind him to find a support. His hand finds it in the form of the Skull of the enormous Bloodsucker. The thumping stopped for a moment.
He moves his right hand in front of himself, as he regains his balance. The light of the ring shines as it does, and his eyes are granted a new sight. The ballroom that was lit by simple torchlight became twilight he was long used to, though for what reason he could not remember.
Countless sigils were inscribed all along the room in a line, now clearly visible to him. The Bloodsucker thumped again, and Epim saw each one light up in succession with each other. The now ring of light that surrounded the room pulsed inwards, covering the entirety of the room. “The… wall…” Epim managed to eke out, his voice very faint. The clarity offered by the shine of his ring was gone, and the torch light returned. He had no understanding of the mechanism, but he knew that the vibrations of the thing were resonating with the sigils, creating the feeling they were all going through now. He looked to Prose, to the Shade, and to Bart.
The Bloodsucker looked on with its yellow eyes, a clear laughing echoing out from its lips in shreeks. But still, it continued to thump its arms against the ground, creating more and more repetitions of those pulses. Clearly, it intended to cripple them then and there, taking no unnecessary risk.
Epim looks at his group, all of them incapable of action. He felt his consciousness begin to slip away, and the moment he closed his eyes in acknowledgment of the sapping force, he knew it would be over.
But what could he do, he had no more force in his body, and the thing was relentless with its thumpings. Although he knew the sigils were the source of their weakness, he had nothing in his arsenal capable of closing the distance. He felt his body slump backwards onto the skull, and again, the thumping stopped.
Twice was too much of a coincidence, and through the forced lethargy he examined the thing again. Its eyes squinted, focused on Epim. Epim thought of the reverence Elder Bayt had for the dead, and the ancient nature of the Bloodsuckers within the castle. Lifting his right hand upwards and forming a fist, he slammed it back down onto the skull, cracking parts of it off but not destroying the entirety.
“SCREE!” Intense anger was clear in the thing, and it stopped its thumping. It now ran forwards into the room towards Epim, wanting to end the desecration as soon as possible.
With the thumping ceasing, the sigils on the walls lost their glow. Epim had hoped it would mean this strength would return, and it did, or to be more specific, a fraction of it did at a time. Given another hour, he’d surely be at full strength and his companions would be on their feet once more.
But he wasn’t given an hour, and to say he was given a minute would be a lie. He had seconds to react, as the beast came for him. Its mouth was open wide, and it eyed the neck of Epim. Its claws scraped the earth, and it recalled the failure of the previous beast when it had cut his claws against his cloak. It was smart enough to learn from that mistake.
It took notice of his weapons, it knew of the knife at his side, and the scythe that came to his hands in an instant. It knew of all these things, and even in its frenzied approach it acted with caution.
Knowing that his companions wouldn’t be able to save him in time, and that he also wouldn’t have been able to act in time, Epim was at a loss. Time seemed to slow down as it got closer and closer, and every moment his mind scrambled, looking for any possibility. His mind stalled, and he realized there was none.
The Bloodsucker now leaped forwards, keeping close to the ground and outstretching its hands. It sneered as Epim rose his cloak in feeble resistance. Grabbing hold of the cloak with its right claw, and then slashing a gash through the left side of Epim’s face with its left, its eyes greedily sized up Epim’s neck. It bared its fangs, and sunk its teeth in. It began to suck hard, tasting the sweetness of Epim’s blood. It hadn’t tasted such a thing in a very, very long time.
The delight the thing felt with its whole body was interrupted, as its prey bit back. Literally. Epim sunk his teeth into its jugular, taking advantage of the close proximity. And much unlike the Bloodsucker, he did not draw blood but tore flesh.“(They’ll wake up, as long as I take you out! Even at the cost of my life!”) Epim resolved internally, and bit with even more force, deeper into the things neck.
The thing let out a screech, letting go and moving backwards. It had dealt damage that would be fatal to Epim, and it planned to escape and tend to its wounds. But the body of Bart was in a position that the thing had forgotten about in its ecstasy. Its careless back step caught the body, and it fell backwards. The damage to it was nowhere near as severe as to Epim, but it was unused to harm.
Truthfully, the misstep was a stroke of luck beyond any comprehension of the situation Epim had. He didn’t have enough clarity anymore, his vision was nearly gone. Carried only by his adrenaline, he forced himself to act as his life drained from his neck. Pushing himself off the skull with his right hand, the twilight returned and he once again saw the environment through its glow.
Forcing his left fist into the momentarily dazed Bloodsuckers mouth, he conjured up the entirety of his force. “(It doesn’t have to last… JUST FOR A MOMENT!”) His ephemeral scythe answered the call, expanding from his palm. The shaft shot out in both directions, upwards and downwards into the creature. It destroyed everything in its path, and the moment it took complete form it disappeared again. Not because Epim willed it, but because he lost consciousness the moment he saw the head of the scythe pop out from the Bloodsuckers head.
His job done, Epim had no moment to consider his victory. His body fell to the ground, and he finally allowed the darkness to take hold. He knew his companions would find out the truth of the castle, and even if they ran he had no qualms. If he was never meant to know who he was, he found solace in the fact that he had given himself an identity in his last moment of action. He had no need for an answer to the mystery of the twilight light, or why he had been able to see the sigils on the wall.
In the castle on the cliffside, a man staked his life for the sake of his companions that he knew for only two days. And when his companions awoke one by one, each of them looked with horror at his body on the floor. Most prominently Bart, who’s life had been saved by him only a day ago.
Bart clawed his way over to Epim’s body, his strength still not having fully returned. He looks at his neck, and feels the faint beat of Epim’s heart through the ground. Much like the Bloodsucker before, Bart opened his mouth wide, and plunged his fangs into the neck of Epim. The meager blood left tasted sweet.