When there was no sun, the ghouls clawed their way out from the soft ground. To hunt. There were so many of them and Little Ant wondered if such numbers of undead had ever gathered in one place. Before this she had never understood how many people a single village could fit. Not before all of them were looking to devour her alive.
I… don’t want to die, Little Ant thought.
Die… or worse. The undead could always do worse than kill you. They could always force her to join their ranks. Leave her pale and cold, haunting this dead town. Mindless and forever hungry. These vampires had been away from The Wyrding for too long. It had stripped them of all thought until only the hunger remained. Going without blood for so long made it impossible for them to hide what they were. Living corpses animated by the Graveyard King’s Curse.
And they knew they were here.
“It was good talking to you two. Good luck. You will need it.” The shadow of Pietro Capello said before fading away.
The undead village screamed and moaned when they sensed warm blood. Something that could sate their red thirst and remind them what it was like to be alive. With shocking strength, grandmother pulled her down, close to the earth to hide them. Little Ant could only follow her lead. Before this fear had been something that would motivate her instead of paralyzing her. Something that would make her run faster and fight more fiercely. But now it just froze her in place.
“Little Ant.” Grandmother said.
They were going to die! Die and rise again! Why had she…?!
“Little Ant.”
The iron tones in grandmother’s voice cut though the fear and suddenly she could think clearly again. Her eyes were wide with terror when she looked grandmother in the eyes. Her determined, calm eyes.
“What are our advantages?” Grandmother said.
“… I…” Little Ant stuttered while thinking of the stories she had heard of low-ranking vampires: “… they… they’re mindless.”
“What else?” Grandmother said.
“… they… they’re hungry.”
“Which makes them desperate and sloppy.” Grandmother said.
“… but… they’re so strong.”
“Wild boars are also faster and stronger than you or me, but which hunts which?” Grandmother asked.
Fear was infectious but so was confidence.
Grim purpose hardened Little Ant’s face when her courage returned to her. Wild boars. That’s all these things were. Lumbering halfwits. Nothing more. She could handle a boar and she could handle these sad creatures. They still had a job to do. They had to warn everyone that the vampire disease had returned to Garuccia. Everyone had to know that there was a master vampire out there.
They also had another advantage that grandmother hadn’t pointed out. They knew the danger they were in. These monsters had been preying on travelers and scavengers who’d had no idea of what lied under their feet. They had just fallen asleep in an abandoned village thinking they were safe and woken up in a nightmare. They would not go down like that. They worshipped the Quiet. They knew how to move without sound and had been taught the ways to trick hungry predators. They…
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Little Ant lost her trail of thought when she saw grandmother grimace from pain and rub her chest.
“Grandmother…?”
“It’s nothing.” Grandmother said: “Now, follow me.”
Following Old Badger’s example, Little Ant made herself very small and silent until she had wiped away all traces of her presence. There was no footprint or scent to follow. The vampires might know they were here, but they did not know where. She started moving towards the edge of the village behind grandmother. Remaining just out of the vampires’ sight. As quickly as they could without causing noise.
I will not die, Little Ant thought.
Few drops of water fell from the dark clouds the master vampire had summoned and when they ran down her neck, it sent shivers down her spine. She would get out of here. She would be welcomed back by her tribe. She would see her parents again. She would go on other adventures. She would pass on what grandmother and Sparrow had taught her. She would be called a hero. The viscount would address her as a friend. An equal. She would receive an honorary name the way Wise Badger, Hard Wasp and Good Robin had. She would not be known as merely Ant. Future goblins would tell stories of her. How she had escaped from a village of vampires. How that had been just the first of her heroic deeds.
There was a hiss above her no living thing could make.
When Little Ant looked up, she saw something hunched on the roof of a cottage. Someone… a man… the most handsome man she had ever seen. A man with a deep golden-red hair and green eyes you could drown in. The look he gave her was enough to make Little Ant’s heart skip a beat.
“Little Ant.” The man said and Little Ant lost all will to run.
There was something… hypnotic about those eyes that made it impossible to look away. Like caught in quicksand… being pulled down… She could have looked at them forever. It felt like a blessing. Being looked at by someone so perfect. None of the boys in her tribe could compare and now he was coming to give her kisses. Kisses only for her. She would…
“Come to me, my Little Ant.” The man said: “You don’t have to run anymore. Come to me and be happy.”
Yes. She would come to him and be happy. She would welcome him and kiss him all over. She would…
When the smell of blood and rotting meat reached Little Ant’s nose, her training took over and she thrust her spear forward without thinking. She had repeated the motion so many times it had turned from a technique into a reflex. Her paw was faster than her mind and when the tip of the spear pierced the man’s skin, the illusion faded.
There was no man. Just a monster. Its talons were sharp, but the fang-filled maw was even sharper. The ghoul let out a furious roar when it realized its prey had fought back and green saliva ran down its chin. It screamed louder and Little Ant knew that it was calling the others. It had wanted her all for itself but now all that mattered was that she didn’t leave a live.
Old Badger’s eyes widened when she saw the vampire that had managed to sneak up on them and Little Ant who had killed it on pure instinct. And she saw the undead locust coming. Jumping on roof. Rushing through the streets.
“Run.” Old Badger said.
The spear had been stuck in the vampire’s guts and when she couldn’t wriggle it free, she abandoned her weapon and just ran. The entire vampire village was now after them. They flew through the village like a ravenous locust, jumping from roof to roof. Letting out screeching sounds no living thing could make. Fleeing the village was no longer an option. All they could do was buy themselves time. Even if it was only a few seconds.
But even now grandmother looked composed. Like she was following instructions only she could understand.
“There!” Grandmother said and pointed at a cottage with barred windows and door that could still stand.
Not knowing what else to do, Little Ant dove inside the house after grandmother.
The previous owner had tried to turn his home into a castle by barring the door and windows, but it hadn’t saved him or his family. Somehow the undead had made their way inside and claimed even this place for themselves. Now taloned hands broke through the windows and door, trying to snatch them away. If only this place was a home! A threshold protected by the Spirit of The Wyrding, the ghouls could not enter!
“What do we do?!” Little Ant yelled with tears in her eyes.
Grandmother did not turn to look at her and just welcomed every vampire that tried to enter with her spear.
“Set up your tent.” Grandmother said.
Her tent? What good would that…? Then she understood. Weight of the tent on her back had never been more comforting. A home she could take with her anywhere.
While the vampires kept trying to break their way in and grandmother did what she could to slow them down, Little Ant started setting up her tent. She had never worked faster and doubted even Sparrow or Old Badger at their prime could have matched her speed. This was work she knew so well that even when fear turned her fingers into wood, she found solace in it. She could do it!
“Done!” Little Ant yelled.
“Get in.” Grandmother ordered.
They jumped inside the tent and drew the curtains. Outside her tent, she could hear the ghouls break into the house but when they tried to slash down her tent, they screamed in pain. The tent wasn’t just a tent. It was her home. Her place of sanctuary. A threshold where such impurities could only enter by invitation.
“Such a daring girl.” Grandmother whispered and patted Little Ant’s head.
The ghouls cursed and hissed. When they spoke, Little Ant’s stomach twisted and turned. If a wind blowing through a cemetery could have talked it would have sounded like that. It was a cruel mimicry of words and Little Ant doubted the ghouls even understood what they were saying. They were just mimicked the sounds that they knew would drive the prey to despair. To surrender. To welcome their fangs.
“Let us in.”
“Never.” Grandmother said.
“Let us in. We order you.”
“I do not take orders from vermin. You are not welcome here. Begone.” Grandmother said.
“You cannot hide form us forever. No living creature can escape death.”
“You think an old woman like me is afraid of death?” Grandmother said.
In response the ghouls screeched and howled while grandmother just closed her eyes, crossed her legs, and began to meditate. After looking at the shadows of the undead circling her tent, Little Ant followed her example and sought solace inside her mind. A palace that would never be completed. It would be a long time before the sun would return. She hoped they would see it.