After a gloriously restful two-day period of sleep, I awoke to discover a large dog gnawing on my arm. I must have been quite flavorful because he was doing his level best to tear into my bicep.
I should have expected something like this to occur. It can happen when you choose to rest in a shallow grave. It’d been so long since I last roughed it out in the wild that the notion of being eaten had completely slipped my mind. Just another senior moment, I guess.
I suppose I should have been grateful for having been buried at all. I’d been taken into the wilderness outside the city walls. They could have just settled for leaving me there instead of bothering to dig a hole. Was that professionalism on their part or a kindly act of human decency?
I may have felt touched.
Meanwhile, the dog kept chewing away at me.
“Knock it off,” I said irritably to the beast after flicking his nose. He yelped in surprise and backed away. Then he began growling at me with his hackles raised as though he were preparing for a fight.
“Calm down,” I commanded the pest after I finished climbing out of my meager place of rest. “Don’t paint yourself as a victim. Who was trying to make a meal of whom, eh?”
Instead of bowing to my logic, the silly beast continued to growl while hunching over, moments away from throwing itself at me. Oh, right, I’d forgotten that even the most basic abilities which I’d taken for granted for centuries were currently sealed from me.
I’d gotten used to giving orders that were enforced with powerful telepathic commands. But now that option was closed to me. Anyone could refuse my demands. Even the simple beasts of the fields.
I’d have to do something about that.
When the dog leapt for me, I stepped to the side, allowing him to pass by. After he landed, I pressed my hand against the back of his neck and pinned him firmly to the ground, leaving him unable to move.
He continued with his angry growling for a bit while trying to snap at my hands, but all that posturing eventually gave way to pitiful whining as his tail slapped helplessly against the earth. It wasn’t difficult holding him down. Despite his aggressiveness, the dog was severely underweight for his size, leaving his ribs visible beneath his short coat of fur. Clearly the life of a nomad had done him no favors.
When the dog’s body went slack in submission, I eased up the pressure and began gently patting his head while scratching his belly. After a few minutes of this kingly treatment, instead of trying to get away from me, he now kept trying to force me to continue. As easily as that, I’d earned my first true friend in this world.
“Yes, yes, I can see you like it,” I said with amusement as I continued petting him. I moved to sit beneath a nearby tree, and he followed with his tail wagging, to sit beside me. Wild though he may now be, I suspected this poor brute had once had a home among men before being discarded.
I wish that people would take better care of their animal companions. But wishes never changed anything, so lamenting the irresponsibility of others served no purpose. Besides, his former owner’s loss was my gain. I got along very well with canines. Mostly wolf packs, but also the occasional hellhound. Honestly, my new companion, mutt that he was, was less visually impressive than the wild creatures of the night I’d run with in prior years, but at that time I wasn’t feeling picky.
I just had to make a few adjustments for him. Wait, not for him. To him.
“I apologize for leaving you in storage for so long,” I said to my sentient spear a few moments later as I used its sharp edge to slice strips of bloody flesh from my arm. “I should have commanded you to sleep before I placed you in storage. I hope you weren’t uncomfortable.”
My vampiric form is extremely durable and possesses a naturally high resistance to being pierced and slashed. Luckily, now that I could shift between being human and undead, I could gather the necessary bits for the dog’s transcendence by cutting away at my far softer mortal self. It was…an experience, to be sure. An extremely unpleasant one. But when viewed through the lens of eternity, such discomfort is practically ephemeral.
Still, when the final slice of meat was cut from me, I was very quick to resume my vampiric form. I sighed in relief as the pain was immediately dulled. A tingling sensation then enveloped my arm as my flesh began to regenerate. My body was still filled with relatively fresh blood from the guard I’d slain two days prior, so my healing was exceptionally quick.
I was doubly pleased to learn that shifting between my two forms allowed me to avoid being afflicted with my spear’s curse. Its ability to deliver unhealing wounds could be negated with a shift into undeath. That was good to know.
The dog licked its teeth and stared at me while whining as I picked up the pile of fresh meat and placed it before him. “Go ahead,” I encouraged him with a pat as he began wolfing it down.
I felt a surge of intense disgust emanate from the spear as I watched my new friend enjoy his meal, which in turn annoyed me. I dislike judgementalism.
“I didn’t have anything else to give him,” I said to the spear. “I’d have cut my arm off, but his teeth are so loose from hunger that I doubt he could have handled gnawing through bone. This was the kinder option.”
Another negative burst of emotion came from the spear. Oh, it could be so tiresome.
“That’s enough of your Tinkerbell routine,” I said to the weapon. “I’m your creator. You can’t hide anything from me including your voice. When I’m addressing you, I expect you to speak when spoken to. And if you have something to say, just spit it out. Is that understood?”
“How did you know?” asked the surprised voice of a young-sounding woman.
“I heard you try to warn Sophia shortly before I detonated,” I said. “There were no other women close by at that moment. I eventually realized that it had to be you that I heard.”
“Congratulations on being so clever,” the spear said bitterly.
“I accept your compliment,” I said politely.
“How could you do such a thing to that poor animal?” the spear suddenly asked.
“He was hungry. I provided for his needs,” I said. “You ought to be praising me for that.”
“You’ve cursed him with your foul condition,” the spear said accusingly.
“He cursed himself, actually,” I corrected her. “He bit me while I was resting. If he’d gotten any of my blood into his system, it wouldn’t have ended well for him. If I hadn’t voluntarily given him more with a serving of my flesh besides, the poor thing might have died in agony by morning’s light.”
“Is he a vampire now?” she asked. “Have you stolen the sun from him?”
“No. He’s more of an elevated existence,” I replied. “He’ll be stronger and far more durable. His intelligence should show a considerable increase as well. But undeath Is a condition that only humans can inherit. He’ll still be a dog. Just a far deadlier one.”
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“Is that what happened to me?” the spear asked sarcastically. “Did I somehow inherit your condition?”
“I explained it to you earlier,” I said patiently. “Your exposure to my blood has transformed you into a being similar to myself. You’re my progeny and I’m your creator.”
“Me becoming a vampiric weapon should be impossible!” she said with growing rage. “I’m a sacred weapon! I served the light faithfully all my life and in death I was elevated to one of its blessed champions! I could never be so forsaken! You’re lying!”
“I gain little from such a petty act of deception,” I retorted. “You can believe whatever you like. The results still speak for themselves.”
“How?” she demanded. “How did you do this to me?”
“My vampiric nature can be quite infectious,” I explained. “Anything with human characteristics can fall prey to it. It seems that ensouled weaponry can be added to that list. A shame that your friend Sophia didn’t realize that in time to save you.”
“Don’t speak my wielder’s name so casually, monster!” the spear said angrily. “You know nothing of her! Don’t think I’ll let you mock her without consequence!”
“You raise an excellent point,” I conceded. “Would you like to tell me more about her? So that I can insult her memory with greater accuracy?”
“I’ll tell you nothing! I would never betray my friend.”
I paused for a moment upon hearing those words. Then I said, “I respect that. Loyalty is the sincerest expression of true friendship. I envy those who receive it uncoerced.”
“What would a devil like you know of friendship?” the spear said.
“That I miss it,” I said with an honesty that surprised me. “I existed for so long at the heights of power that I forgot how nice it was to stand alongside a small, committed few. It feels good to have a pair of true companions at my side once more.”
“Save your praises for your new dog, bastard,” the spear said hatefully. “I’m not your companion! I vow in heaven’s name to one day strike you down for the injustice you’ve dealt me!”
“Goodness, is that sort of vengeful mindset really required of your religion?” I asked. “Where’s the element of forgiveness?”
“Forgiveness is denied to you and all the night’s fiends!” the spear said zealously.
Ugh. Crusaders. No matter the era, they never change.
“If that’s the case, then as your master and creator, I forbid you from directly causing me harm, or of allowing harm to come to me through malicious inaction,” I replied. “You will not conspire against me, deceive me, or intentionally allow me to be misled by others. If you attempt any of these things, I command you to feel intolerable pain until I alone allow it to relent. Do you understand?”
The spear said nothing in icy defiance.
“I asked if you understood,” I said mildly.
“I’ll never give into you…AAAAARGH!” shrieked the spear as I allowed her to experience a taste of the pain that I warned her would come.
“Do you understand?” I repeated. I was content to let her stew in her self-inflicted agony for as long as it took for her to get the message. Fortunately for us both, she was quick to concede.
“And you call yourself a civilized being,” she muttered after a few minutes of quiet. The dog had fallen asleep and wouldn’t awaken for quite some time. I now sat beside him, spear in hand to guard over him as he rested.
“Civilizations exist due to the willingness of the strong to exercise their power without remorse, daughter,” I told her. “Until I wielded it against you, my authority was merely conceptual. Now you know that it is a reality. I hope this will better inform your future decision making.”
“Daughter?” she scoffed.
“What else would I call a child of my blood?” I asked her.
“Anything but that. It’s ridiculous, and saying it makes you sound pompous,” she said tartly. “How old were you when I killed you?”
“I was approaching my eleventh century when I slew you,” I replied.
“Ha! I was in service as a divine weapon for nearly two thousand years,” she said with a vexatious note of triumph. “Clearly it is I who holds seniority over you, father.”
“I can see why you might think so,” I replied. “But I’m also sure you probably spent the majority of those years in a glass case or hanging on a wall.”
“I did no such—” she began to say before I cut her off and ordered her to sleep.
It’s nice being able to have the last word whenever I wanted. I rarely wielded my authority in this manner, preferring to let my lesser kin have their voices heard, but…this spear was a lot to put up with. I was going to have to gradually adjust to her caustic personality. I knew she would eventually grow used to me and her new place in the order of things, but for now, she was going to be extremely adversarial and would have to be carefully managed.
To pass the time, I began studying my character sheet.
As a human, my stats were as followed:
Strength: 17.
Strength was my highest stat by far, which surprised me, considering how malnourished this body was. Kyler Evans must have had some minor level of natural athletic ability that would explain this. Don’t get me wrong, in comparison to a hunter, his might was severely lacking. But as an ordinary teenager without any extensive physical training, I found him impressive. Let’s see…to properly calculate my current physical limit, it seems I must multiply this stat by ten. That means I can currently lift around one hundred seventy pounds. At my age, that could easily be improved with regular exercise and a good diet.
Speed: 4.
Again, another impressively average showing for this urchin. The formula for this one was the stat times two. Which meant that at top speed, Kyle could run at about eight miles per hour, which was the standard for a fit human male. What could Evans have accomplished if he’d been given proper guidance and an opportunity to excel?
Reflex: 1.5.
Ah, the first major hindrance. Reflex represented agility, coordination, and manual dexterity. The higher it was, the more easily you could control the fine movements of your body. It could be roughly calculated by dividing your speed by half. Two would have been another average number, but one point five clearly painted him as being clumsy and slow to react. Where had the remaining point five of his ability gone? Had he been previously injured or was he afflicted with some manner of physical disability?
Constitution: 10.
A means of calculating my body’s health. It operated on a times two principle like speed, which meant my health points maxed out at a whomping…twenty?
Twenty health points?!
By the all-devouring darkness, Kyler Evans, just how weak could a boy possibly be? You couldn’t even be said to be made of glass, could you? More like wet foam! Twenty health points? Really? That meant that the beating I’d received during my interrogation hadn’t even been that intense, had it? I probably passed out after a single slap.
For the first time since coming to this world, I felt genuine apprehension about my odds of survival. I simply had to get that number up as quickly as I could. My human form would be vital for disguising my vampiric nature. I couldn’t let it remain this fragile! The notion was intolerable!
Endurance: 0.5.
This was the one that really made me angry.
Endurance, like strength, was the stat times ten, expressed as active minutes. That meant that Kyler Evan’s current maximum amount of time for cardiovascular activity was a paltry five minutes.
Forgive me for this. I’m going to curse. I don’t do it often, and only when I’m in the foulest of moods. Again, I apologize.
FIVE FUCKING MINUTES ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????!!! WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS EVEN MEAN HOW CAN ANYONE GET THAT FUCKING GASSED SO QUICKLY?! DOESN’T ANYONE HAVE A SENSE OF URGENCY ANYMORE?! WHAT SORT OF SLUGGARD HAD YOU BEEN, KYLER EVANS?
There. It’s out of my system. Thank you for bearing with me. I feel terribly embarrassed about my outburst and will strive to avoid having another one. No one should have to endure bad language.
Still, things were beginning to make sense. Now I understood why my performance had been so sluggish in the goblin’s lair. It was true that I’d easily overwhelmed my opponents, but that was due entirely to experience. If I’d been a true novice with only my physical skills to rely on, I would have been butchered like a Sunday hen.
What manner of institute was the Vandal Academy? How could Kyler Evans have been admitted who was so lacking in ability? Even as a porter, it made no sense. What good was a porter who could barely move? There were surely far better options! Even as an act of nepotism, it made little sense. As talented as Patrick was, the school would have been taking an enormous risk with the lives of any students whose team Evans would be assigned to. He was that unqualified.
This only confirmed my suspicion that Kyler Evans had been set up from the start. Even before the class trip, he’d been doomed. Like some manner of human sacrifice unwittingly idling away the days of the school year until the moment of his death, never suspecting what was to come.
His…no, my brother was involved with two other women, one of which had set Evans up to die. And his brother’s lovers were sisters. Honestly, these people were as hedonistic as the court of a French king! In my younger days I might have enjoyed such a bold display of uninhibited depravity. But the passage of time had long since cooled my ardor. Now I could only shake my head at their behavior like the old man I was and wonder where their parents had gone wrong with them.
Permissive parenting probably produced perniciously perverse progeny.
Rare were the days when I encountered children more monstrous than my own. I sincerely hoped to never meet any of those people ever again. Not Patrick, nor Thalia, and especially not Anikka who now seemed to be the most dangerous of the three. To hell with all of them.
So, obviously that was me planting a flag, right? I really need to reacquaint myself with certain standard storytelling tropes so that I can better avoid danger. One of my wives once mentioned to me the existence of an Evil Overlord’s checklist. I wish I’d read it just once before I died.
I spent the rest of the night thinking bleak thoughts as I pondered the days to come.