Her body was also nearly cloven in two, though much more brutally than mine had been. It looked like the sword had come down on her from above, hitting on her right shoulder and stopping at her left hip. The sword had not been sharp enough to make a clean cut, so in addition to being split in two, her torso was also crushed and mangled in ways better left unsaid. Had I been hit the same way, even with [Rapid Regeneration], I would not have survived.
Pierre was sobbing some of the ugliest sounds I’ve ever heard, somewhere between a dying goat and an asthmatic with a kazoo, while Al looked on in solemn silence. Her killer was lying in a rusty metallic heap some dozen steps away, slowly crumbling as the force that had kept it animated and untarnished disappeared. The only intact things remaining in the pile were it’s sword, the black metal stained red with Christine’s blood, and Al’s axe, embedded deep within what was left of its skull.
The two men did not notice when I stood up, nor did they notice when I walked up behind them to get a closer look. To be fair to them, I might not have heard me either, with how loud Pierre was and how stealthy I was being. I moved faster than I had ever moved before, wrapping my arms and legs around Pierre and sinking my fangs into his neck.
My victim stiffened in surprise, but otherwise did not react. I believe the shock of losing is wife followed by the surprise attack broke him entirely. Al was out of it as well, but not as much. He jumped to his feet, reaching toward his belt for his ax and fumbling at the empty belt loop for a few seconds before remembering that he had left it in the skeleton. He reached with his other arm at his thigh for a long hunting knife, but by then, I had regained my senses.
It was almost too late. Pierre had only enough blood left in him to survive, but not enough to remain conscious. He collapsed to a heap when I released him to dance backward away from Al’s blade.
“Wait!” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m okay now.”
He hesitated. “L-Lucy?”
“Yes, it’s me, Al. Please, put the knife down. I can explain everything.”
“You killed Pierre!” he roared, charging.
“No!!” I said, running. “He’s still alive. He’s alive! Look! He’s still breathing!”
He hesitated again, looking over at the shallow rising and falling of his friend’s chest
“Please calm down,” I said. “It’s over. I’m back to myself. I won’t do anything like that again. We need to treat Pierre before he gets any worse.”
He glanced between the two of us. “How-? How are-? What…? How?”
“I’m a vampire,” I explained. Then I got on my knees and bowed down with my arms out over my head. “I’m sorry for deceiving you. I hope you can understand why it was necessary. I had no intention of harming you. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Just please, calm down, and let’s resolve this peacefully.”
I did not dare to look up until I heard the scraping of his armored arms being lowered and the sound of his panicked breaths steadying. We made eye contact once more, then he rushed over to check on Pierre.
As relieved as I was to have defused the situation, I was equally disgusted in myself for causing the situation in the first place. I had experimented a bit with how Satiety worked at Anatoly’s. When it dropped below 80, I started to idly wonder what others’ blood tasted like. Below 60, I would start subconsciously sniffing the air, and making note of all potential food sources in the vicinity. Below 50, I started having daydreams about leading people into secluded areas and having a little taste. I hadn’t gone much further than that, finding the presence of those thoughts in my mind to be extremely disconcerting, but I never imagined that I would lose so much control when I got that far down. I estimate that after losing so much blood in that fight, my Satiety was at less than 10, and possibly less than 5.
The worst part was that in the moment, drinking my two comrades dry was what I wanted to do. I did not feel “trapped in my own body”, as others feel when under the influence of mental skills. It was as if I had become something different; something feral. There was no room for critical thought; only instinct.
When I was human, I only got drunk once. I had never seen the appeal in alcohol, but in college, I was still weak, and so desperate for approval that I allowed my dorm-mates to pressure me into trying it. That was one of the worst nights of my life. Drunkenness was everything I dreaded it would be, and then some.
With my inhibitions gone, soon, so too were my friends. I told them exactly what I thought of them, and how they could improve themselves. I truly had only been trying to help, but of course, no one likes having their flaws pointed out, least of all by a drunk girl three years their junior. None of them ever spoke to me again.
Ever since then, I have been wary of any and all mind-altering substances. I never drank, never smoked, never went to parties, and never touched the pills the psychiatrist gave me. I learned how to dream lucidly so that even in my sleep, I would never lose control of myself again.
Until that Dungeon, I thought I had conquered myself, but that bitch of a goddess’ “gift” of vampirism had torn it away. I was so revolted that I wanted to vomit. I retched a few times, but nothing emerged. My stomach was empty. The blood had already been absorbed into the rest of my body, and all that remained was the faint savory aftertaste tainted by the salty, sour flavor of sweat and grime from Pierre’s neck.
It took a full minute to finish collecting myself, during which time Al never took his eyes off me. Even as he fumbled in his bag for a healing potion to pour down Pierre’s throat, he did not once look down. I could not blame him. I would have done the same in his position. Pierre sputtered and coughed as the clear liquid was force into his mouth, but his breathing strengthened and the color started returning to his cheeks.
I stood up and Al mirrored me, a wary hand on his knife, so I turned and walked away. Keeping tensions high wouldn’t help anyone. We all needed time to quietly process, and I needed to consider my next moves. I was exposed, and there was no easy way around that. Al and Pierre didn’t seem like the type to spread rumors, but I couldn’t trust my life to general impressions and the goodwill that I had just destroyed. I needed a less fallible solution, so I turned to the System notifications I had been ignoring.
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Your party has slain Chimera lvl 63!
User lvl 37->38
[Sole Survivor] lvl 37->38
[Rapid Regeneration] lvl 8->23
[7 other notifications]
Congratulations on defeating this floor! You can choose to return now, or you will be automatically relocated to the floor entrance in 12 hours
Time remaining: 11:34:26
You have consumed the blood of [Human] Pierre. Would you like to add a Thrall?
[Yes]
[No]
I walked to the corner of the room and erected a wall around myself so I could change my clothes while I contemplated. I was coated in my own blood, and my clothes were completely ruined. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, and I hoped Al hadn’t, but the waistband of my pants was no longer connected to the rest, and they were hanging dangerously low around my waist. It still would have been hard for him to see anything through all the blood, but it didn’t feel good knowing I had been so exposed.
Once I finished, I started a small fire to burn the old clothes and pulled a bottle of blood out of my [Inventory] to top off my Satiety while I tried to think of an alternative to thralling Al and Pierre. Mutually understanding was out. Words could still work, if I convinced them to sign the magical equivalent of an NDA, but I knew almost nothing about contracts at the time, and had no way of knowing how I would set them up. The only option I had left was enthrallment.
It’s not something I would even consider under normal circumstances. I try never to use that skill if I can help it. I know how it feels to lose control of my own mind; I can’t imagine how much worse it would be for it to be subject to the whims of another. Even if I never used it for anything but keeping their mouths shut (which I wouldn’t), the possibility that I could would weigh heavy on their minds. However, I had no choice. Without doing it, the only way it could have ended was with one of us losing our lives.
I selected [Yes], and felt the connection appear between Pierre and I. He did not react, as he was already unconscious, so Al did not notice. I placed the geas of silence on him, and then commanded him to sleep. He did not need much encouragement.
I exited my makeshift privacy curtain to find Al kneeling over Pierre, but still watching me out of the corner of his eye. As I approached he stood and stepped between me his comrades and drew his ax, which he had retrieved while I was changing. I stopped twenty feet from him trying to stand in as non-threatening of a stance as possible.
“So what now?” I asked.
“I should be asking you that,” he said. “What are you? I saw you. You were cut in half completely. How are you still alive?”
“Technically, I’m not. I’m a vampire.”
“Vampires are extinct.”
“Oh, my mistake. I suppose I’ll just return to nonbeing then.”
His brow creased. “What do you want?”
“I want to apologize more formally.”
Getting straight to the point would be counterproductive. I needed to put him at ease first, so I kowtowed in front of him.
“I’m sorry for deceiving you, and I’m sorry for what I did to Pierre. When vampires get too low on blood, we lose reason, and seek out the nearest blood, which in this case was Pierre’s. I did not think it would be an issue, because I always make sure that I have enough blood with me never to go mad, but my injury drained most of it out of me. I am full now, and nothing of the sort will happen again.”
“How can I trust you?”
I looked up at him. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but do you honestly think that I would do something like that again? That wasn’t me. That was… something else. Something feral that should never have been allowed out- something that never will be allowed out again.”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“I swear on my life that I will never attack either of you again.”
He glanced at Christine’s corpse when I said “either” then looked back at me as his hands started to tremble.
“Al, please put the ax down.”
He hesitated a moment longer, then went almost limp, dropping his ax and sitting down with tears streaming down his face. I got to my feet and took a cautious step forward. When he did not react, I walked the rest of the way over until I was directly in front of him, then knelt down so that we were face to face, and embraced him. He was surprised at the gesture, but soon returned it, and started sobbing on my shoulder. Once his arms were safely around my back and away from any blades, I extended my fangs, and for the second time that hour, took a drink directly from the source.
You have consumed the blood of [Human] Alphonse. Would you like to add a Thrall?
[Yes]
[No]
I selected [Yes] and pushed away from him, staring him in his expressionless, tear-filled eyes.
“I’m sorry, Al. It was my only choice. I swear, I won’t ever take advantage of you again. All I need is for you to never say a word about me being a vampire.”
An hour later, the two of us walked out of the Dungeon with Pierre still unconscious in Al’s arms and Christine in my [Inventory]. When we made it out, the guards called a man in priest’s robes over to tend to Pierre as I explained what had happened. The guard said some words into a magical brooch and not five minutes later, Alyona arrived, disheveled and panting. I summoned Christine’s corpse onto the ground in front of us, and the group fell silent. Al averted his gaze and one of the guards turned away to retch, but Alyona stared on, her gaze unflinching.
“The world has lost a great woman today,” she said. “She will be buried in a place of honor.” She waved her arm, and Christine vanished into her own subspace. “Let me, Alphonse.”
She waved her arm once more, and Pierre drifted out of Al’s arms.
“I will take him to the church for treatment. Get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow.”
We walked together back to the city gates where we were met by two more Guild employees who had come to escort us to our homes while Alyona took care of Pierre. I allowed myself to be accompanied back to the bookstore, and after assuring the guild employee that I was alright and didn’t need assistance, I bid him farewell and entered, preparing myself for the nagging of a lifetime.
The nagging did not arrive. Instead, I was met by the imposing figure of an unfamiliar elf towering over me.
“Lucille!” she said. “Nice to finally meet you. Dad’s told me so much about you. My name’s Natalya.”