image [https://i.imgur.com/jpOYNWV.png]

A light hung in the middle of the ceiling and illuminated the room. Two separate square padlocked cages stood bolted into the floor in the middle of a musty and damp one-room cellar, on a giant tarp that covered the entire foundation. Roughly ten feet cubed, each cage held two people—two male and two female—empty water bottles and food wrappings scattered around them, along with a couple of blankets and a nasty-looking bucket.

I wasn't going to go into any more detail than that, I knew what it was used for. Standing there, I distractedly noted that our group call disconnected.

Looking up at our approach, I saw that the captives were pale and starved, sores and cuts on their bodies. Their hair was matted, and their eyes were dull and lifeless, the spark of life had disappeared sometime during their captivity. My stomach clenched as I took them in.

I’d experienced a lot of abuse growing up, but nothing like these people had probably been put through, by the looks of it. I knew everyone reacted to hardships differently and it didn’t invalidate what I’d experienced during my childhood, but then and there I decided that going forward I’d try to avoid wallowing too much in the anger and self-pity that had plagued me for years. Within reason, of course—complaining was a human right after all.

“Why are they still alive?” I asked Colson morbidly, in a lowered voice. “If the drudges, or whatever they are, get stronger like the empousa, they need to kill them, right?”

The captives' situation made me slightly nauseous the more I considered them.

“Drudges can’t advance, kid,” Colson whispered back while the others checked out the room, looking for traps or setups, “they’re usually normal humans who’re indentured to a form of vampire—in this case, a Vdélla—compelled to obey through a blood bond. You saw the two sets of fangs she has where her upper and lower incisors should be? Very distinctive.”

I looked at him and could tell he was appalled at the notion.

He blew a deep breath out through his nose and continued, “They become its slaves, and in the process, they change and get power. Strength, speed, regeneration, and minuscule access to aether through the vamp. The downside is lifelong servitude and the need for fresh blood to sustain themselves. If they don't feed regularly, they start degrading. Their bodies also turn permanently anaemic and cold. It's why they all slept in a pile, probably. They’ve been periodically bleeding these people, occasionally killing animals nearby to feed.”

“That’s horrible,” I said.

It disappointed me, what people would do for power. What they would become.

“Yeah,” Colson agreed, “like I told you back in New Orleans, you don’t wanna give your blood away ‘freely’.”

He sighed and kept going, “Try not to judge them too harshly, most of the time vampires pick their victims carefully. People who’ve had a bad turn in life. Part of what she said was probably her own M.O., using coercion, torture, and manipulation to turn people.”

“Everything else she said was a lie?” I asked him.

She’d seemed so convincing. Sally was talking to the people in the cages, assuring them that we’d get them out in a jiffy. The lifeless stares she got in response made me shudder.

“Not necessarily,” he answered as Rob began to hammer away on a padlock, “there were probably grains of truth in there. She was undoubtedly at the limit of how many she could keep compelled. I’ve heard the blood bonds can become unstable.”

“What about Marie? Vampires need blood to survive right, or lifeblood to get stronger? Sorry, maybe now’s not the time for questions,” I added, a touch embarrassed.

Our voices were still lowered, so we didn’t disturb the others.

“All good, kid,” Colson assured me, “it’s fine, we’re on standby anyway. Yeah, vamps need blood to survive, but not as much as you’d think. Who knows, maybe Marie’s hit her Sigil’s threshold. Your assumption is correct, vamps can’t draw in ambient aether. If she can’t develop it any further, she only needs to kill enough to fill the reservoir, so she has aether to draw on. They share similar traits with some other creatures who get stronger the older they are, so they don’t necessarily have to rely on their Sigils much. That part’s got nothing to do with magic, it’s just how their bodies work.”

Dink turned and addressed us, “Padlocks are reinforced, and Rob’s having trouble drawing on his Sigil.”

Now that he mentioned it, I could feel Rob drawing aether, but it felt disjointed like his pull was fluctuating wildly. He did his best—hammering lightning-fast blows onto it with the butt of his gun—but it was unaffected. Colson frowned at the scene, and I felt him draw a trickle of aether as well, his control more precise but still wavering.

“Rob,” he called over the racket, “hold up. Can we check something real quick?”

Rob stopped hammering away and looked at Colson with a raised eyebrow. He walked our way.

“’Sup Colson?”

“I wanna see what’s under the tarp. Something’s off. Even if the victims’ve been here for a long time they should’ve reacted to our presence. Fear, pleading for help, you name it. It almost seems like they’re being forcefully pacified.”

“Yeap, something’s weird alright. Drawing aether feels sluggish. Let’s do it.”

They went over to the southwest corner and started pulling the tarp back to the cages. When they’d pulled all the corners across the floor, it revealed the majority of a large intricate circle containing a nine-pointed star and several symbols inside, painted in black. Runic script not unlike what was inscribed on my spear followed the inner edge of the circle, the two cages situated in the middle of it all, preventing us from seeing the rest.

“What the hell…” Sally breathed, echoing my thoughts.

We all looked to Colson, who’d removed his sunglasses, sitting on his heels, looking at the work with a dark expression.

“Containment and suppression rune wards,” he said after a couple of minutes. “Well done, precise. See the runes around the edge of the circle? They’re meant to disrupt and prevent aether flow when you’re inside it. The markings here,” he provided, pointing at one of the corners of the star, “are meant to pacify and calm. It wouldn’t work as well on a Holder, but if they were down here long enough, they’d definitely start to feel lethargic after a while. You said this house has been abandoned for a couple of years?” he looked up at Dink who was standing closest to him.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He nodded, face serious.

“Yes, couple of years now. If people around here hadn’t gone missing, we probably wouldn’t have thought twice about checking it out. Tanner was the one who suggested we started checking the abandoned properties in and around town.”

“I see,” Colson stood back up. “It shouldn’t be necessary to have a ward like this in place for a couple normals. I bet if we remove the entire thing, there’s a reinforcement ward strengthening the cages. Have any Holders from the area gone missing lately?” he asked in a resigned voice.

The others looked surprised at his inquiry.

“Actually yeah,” Mateo provided, looking at Rob, “Ralph Peterson went missing four months ago, right? And we haven’t heard from June Walker in a couple of months. We just kinda assumed some nasties got ‘em.”

Rob bobbed his head in confirmation. Their expressions turned sour at the implication.

“We need to call it in,” Colson fished his phone out with his right hand. “The entire working’s almost out of power; it’s why we couldn’t feel it. If this has been going for a while, it’s been topped off at regular intervals.”

He walked over to a cage and enveloped the padlock in his left hand. With a steadily increasing erratic flow of aether, his hand shimmered and eventually the padlock started sizzling, molten metal falling to the ground. After a good thirty seconds, he released his grip and the cage door clanked and opened by itself. He started repeating the process on the other one when his call connected.

“Administration? This is Colson. I need to speak to an E.I.S. representative of the Upland South on duty, please. Yes, I’ll hold,” we couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I surmised that as with any government institution, there could be a fair bit of bureaucracy at play.

“Ethan, help the others get the captives out of here if you would,” he told me, his hand covering the microphone, “I need to head upstairs, the connection’s bad.”

He left for the surface.

“Okay,” Sally piped up, taking charge, “Mateo, help me get the ones in the left one up, Ethan, Rob and Dink, you help the two guys in the right one.”

“Alright,” I assented in tune with the others.

“Got it.”

“Let’s get to it.”

Entering the cage, the smell of offal, sweat and blood became gradually stronger, but I didn’t let it show on my face. If these people were being pacified due to aether, I didn’t want to add to any potential embarrassment that could be hiding under the surface. These people had enough to worry about.

Dink and I grabbed one of the men and pulled him from the floor by his arms, Dink muttering assurances under his breath. It was a lot of dead weight, and I was worried he might collapse, but when he got his feet under him, he stood firmly enough. Rob took one of his arms and wrapped it around his neck, supporting him, and walked out of the cage.

We repeated the process with the other guy, and I walked towards the stairs, propping him up, while Dink checked the floor for anything we’d need to bring with us. Mateo and Sally each had one of the women in the same position and we walked topside. Their legs were unsteady from lack of use, and it was slow progress.

Mind whirling at both the implication of the ward, the missing Holders, the battle, and how these people would react when the effects wore off, I suddenly felt very tired. I briefly considered using the charge in my ring, but since I couldn’t refill it myself yet, I refrained. It was probably better to save it in case there was an emergency. My thoughts went back to the people we were bringing outside as a waft of fresh air hit my face. The man I was helping shuddered slightly. Hopefully, he was enjoying the sensation of the breeze. We were almost there.

Seeing what was waiting for us when we came up the stairs, I nearly stumbled bringing the other guy with me.

Tanner was gone and the car with him. A decapitated Marie was lying dead on the ground, her milky eyes staring blankly at the sun, a couple of feet away from her body.

What the hell!

Colson was livid. He was standing some fifty feet away, yelling obscenities into the air, his other arm gesticulating wildly. Occasionally he’d pause to convey something to whoever he was talking to on the phone. When he saw us, his stern expression mellowed a bit and he put his index finger in the air and circled it around a couple of times. I understood his meaning immediately, the hostages didn’t need to see this.

I immediately turned to the right, the man in tow, and started walking around to the front of the farmhouse. I don’t know if he noticed the body, but there was nothing I could do about that. I’d been shocked too.

We came around to the front of the house and I found a bit of shade and lowered him carefully, seating myself next to him. I didn’t want him to come to without anyone nearby who was able to explain the situation. He started orienting himself a little, looking around at our surroundings and taking deep breaths. I didn’t know what to expect with the ward wearing off, I’d never talked anyone down before.

Dink and the rest of the El-Renos appeared around the corner wearing thunderous expressions. They silently lowered their cargo to the ground and then walked some thirty feet away and started talking in loud whispers. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were royally pissed.

If Tanner was gone because he’d had a hand in the disappearance of other Holders and these people…

“Hello? Who’re you?” a female voice suddenly asked me.

I looked at her in surprise and saw that they were all staring at me. The dead expressions they’d had in the cellar were gone, replaced with looks of apprehension and worry.

“Uh, hello, I’m Ethan. How’re you all feeling?”

I honestly didn’t know what to say. I’d expected them to start screaming their heads off as soon as they were lucid, not a cautious question.

“Where are we?” one of the men asked me instead.

“We’re on a small, abandoned farm, thirty minutes outside of El-Reno Oklahoma. Can I ask what your names are? Let’s start with you,” I pointed at the woman who’d spoken.

“I’m Ashley,” she replied warily.

“Tony,” said one guy.

“Brian,” intoned the other.

“I’m Penelope,” the last one piped up in an insecure tone.

“Okay, hi everyone. What’s the last thing you guys remember?" I asked.

I decided to try and keep them talking, to see if I could distract them a little from what they'd been through. I wasn't confident I could calm them all down if they started panicking or asking pointed questions.

Brian was the first to explain.

"I was walking home from an evening shift at the hospital. Decided to take a shortcut past a café to pick up some food. This woman approached me and asked for directions. Before I knew it she... she grabbed onto me and dragged me into an alley and hauled me inside a van. She was so strong. Next thing I knew I woke up in a cage," he shuddered and went quiet.

The others shared similar stories. They'd been alone at night, heading home from work or a bar, and had been approached by what sounded like one of the drudges and hauled off. Then they'd woken up in a cage. There was a lull in the conversation as they remembered their circumstances and I could see on their faces that they were on the verge of breaking down.

"Do you remember your time in the cellar?" I asked carefully.

Distracting them with talk of different things wouldn't work, so I decided to try a different avenue. They all nodded at me, despair evident.

"It-it's c-coming back s-slowly," Penelope stuttered, tears running down her face.

My heart went out to them and hatred for the people who'd done this suffused my body.

"Would it make you feel better to know that they're all dead?" I tried.

I had no idea if this was the right thing to ask, but if I'd been in their situation it would make me feel slightly better to know that my tormentors had perished. Brian, Ashley and Tony's expressions changed subtly, a resolute gleam entering their eyes. Penelope looked into the ground, her tears large splotches of moisture on the dry soil. Pure unadulterated rage replaced my pity. I'd get Tanner for this. If he'd been as complicit in whatever was going on here as I thought, I'd fucking kill him. My mentality be damned.

"Kid," Colson's voice called from around the corner before he turned up, "we need to get back to El-Reno ASAP, I called Jasp- oh. Hello."

He stopped when he'd noticed we were all looking his way. Their eyes went wide at the sight of him and I could understand their predicament. Seeing a seven-foot-tall mountain of a man in a biker's outfit wouldn't do much to reassure me either if I didn't know him.

"I'm Colson, nice to meet you. Don't worry, you're all safe," he said in a calm reassuring voice, hands at his sides with his palms facing outward.

A calming gesture.

This was apparently too much for Penelope who started wailing loudly.