Novels2Search

1 - Bites the Dust

I sat and glared at the fly.

The bug had been fluttering around in the pale light flooding through the window across the room for the last hour. It did not seem to know what it was doing, and in four days, it would die. To live a life so feeble and directionless… so short. It almost seemed like a blessing.

Even if I were to remove myself from the couch of soft crimson upholstery and let it out of the window, it would extend its life by what? A day or two at most? Would it feel more fulfilled? I doubt it was capable of that, nor I of moving from my position. Through ill fate or bad choices, it had ended up in my study, and the consequences were not mine to bear.

For minutes, both it and the dust motes illuminated by the waning daylight were the only movement in the ever-darkening chamber. Rows and rows of books upon worn wooden shelves had long since dusted over and now sank into the shadows. Every one of them read - some twice. It had been a while since I had attained a new tome that piqued my interest. I had grown tired of the written word, like so many other things as of late. Yet still, I found myself drawn to languish in this room over any other.

The sound of soft footsteps from behind roused me from the evening’s entertainment. It could be only one person - unless a vampire hunter had managed to learn enough subtlety and confidence to calmly stroll up to me. Unlikely.

“Drink, Sire?”

I turned lazily to the source of the polite but scratchy voice. My skeletal butler had walked in through the darkened portal of a doorway to my back left. The longest serving - and currently only - servant on my estate. The fly became my focus again as the man walked gently around the couch to my right side.

“Thank you, Woodsworth. Human?” My stock had become less diverse after I had binged the rarer bottles a few months back in hopes of feeling a spark of creativity.

“Dwarven, Sire. It seemed like you needed the extra kick.”

It certainly felt like I needed something. He leaned over towards me with a glass atop a silver tray, and I took it with a gracious nod. Despite the erosion of my normal faculties, it always paid to retain your manners. Even after I had tried to send him away or relinquish his position - he had persisted and stayed. One of the few in my long life that didn’t tire of me or eventually succumb to mortal trappings.

He wore the usual faded black suit, white shirt, and black bowtie. Back in his living days, a tidy grey moustache had adorned his upper lip, but now his almost expressionless skull just loomed over me, staring into my eyes with his empty sockets. Perhaps a reminder of the death I had yet to greet.

“Is there any particular reason for the additional malaise this young evening, Sire?”

I tilted the glass and watched the crimson liquid inside move around. The bottled stuff never had quite the same pop to it. Naturally sourced, from a living and breathing - and panicking - vessel was much more preferable.

“It’s all the same, Woodsworth. How many centuries have I lived?”

I watched him stare blankly in return. He knew that my question was rhetorical, and he awaited the continuation of my rant.

“I have felt every texture, heard every sound, and seen and tasted from one corner of the world to the other. In my time, I became the embodiment of fear, the bane of the populace, and the scourge of every self-important hero. The Vampire King. Stalking Nightmare. Crimson Death. All titles won through bloodshed and terror.”

The dwarven blood slid down the back of my gullet. Not my favourite kind, but it sparked a little life into me. Which I partially resented.

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“Yet,” I continued, “here I sit not upon a throne or amongst a pit of subservient thralls, nor do I ride at the head of a great army. I stare at a fly, awaiting its death.”

“You have already accomplished all those things in your life, Sire. Most of the Villains this side of the-“

“Psh,” I huffed and shook my head. “Every Villain I helped raise and nurture cut themselves from my bosom as soon as it served their own interests. Even my own daughters.”

Silence filled the room. Woodsworth looked over to the fly, and for a few minutes, we both observed it fruitlessly try and push itself through the closed glass and into the remaining light of the day.

The butler shuffled slightly to address me. “Sire, I have a suggestion - if I may?”

“Speak freely.” I nodded. The formalities seemed pointless when it had been just the two of us for so long, yet he insisted on treating me the same as he had in my heyday.

“You have spent your life in the pursuit of evil, becoming the strongest S Rank Villain and mentoring countless others to follow in your wake. If you feel like you have rifled through every grain of sand on this path… why not approach things from the other angle?”

My brow furrowed. Perhaps my brain was dustier than the study, or his analogy was half-imagined, but I was having a hard time putting the puzzle pieces together. “Speak plainly, Woodsworth.”

“Sire.” He nodded and worked his jawbone. “Start from the bottom again, and become a Hero. Follow the path of light instead of shadow.”

To his credit, this was the fastest my dead heart had beaten in months. At first, it was the incredulity of the statement - the most powerful vampire of several eras becoming that which he sought to snuff out. Starting from the lowest rungs of the ladder? Experiencing life on the other side of the pointed shoe?

That last question stuck in my mind, and I could almost taste it. Did I have it in my heart to be good? No, I had committed too much sin for that. Was I capable of fighting against my former students and colleagues? Easily. Even if going back to F Rank. A new life, different than this.

“Intriguing,” I tried to hide my blooming enthralment with the idea, “but how? Heart transplant from a dying Paladin? Prostrate myself before the Gods? Get hit by a-”

“Amongst your great many treasures, Sire, you have one artefact that can cause [Rank Reset]. The rest is up to you.”

I ran my tongue across my fangs. My trove of magical items was pretty extensive and probably under as much dust as the books here were. From the sludge of my memories, I recalled the [Stones of Undoing]. Three pebbles that would remove most powers and your associated rank. The first one I had force-fed to a vampire-hunting Hero not soon after I had acquired them. The second one of my underlings had stolen, but I had allowed it.

“Would the System so easily allow me to join the Heroes Guild?”

“I believe so, Sire. With no Rank, there would be no prior actions to judge you for. Assuming you can sign the paperwork without committing any atrocities first.”

Although his face remained impassive, I got the vibe that there would be a wry grin accompanying the statement if he had the ability. Something was roiling around inside me - and not the bland dwarven blood. There was a brief pinprick of light and the promise of new experiences. Things I craved even more than the taste of the living.

“Being a vampire still makes it a difficult task,” I sighed and sunk further into the soft couch.

“Oh, well, if it is too difficult, I shall leave you and the fly to continue to death spiral.” He straightened up and made to leave.

“Woodsworth.” I closed my eyes and allowed myself a slight smile. “I’ll do it - but on three conditions.”

“Very well, Sire. What will they be?” He still had the tray held empty in one hand; his other was clasped behind his back.

I held up three fingers. “Firstly, I will use my [Human Mask] to hide my true nature.” A magical artefact that would allow me to pass as a human as well as resistance to the harsh sun.

“Understandable, Sire.”

“Secondly,” I lowered one finger, “I get to take one of my magical weapons. I refuse to use blunt swords and spears to begin my reign of… heroism?”

He nodded, but I could tell he was less sold on this. Some of my artefacts were ridiculous when it came to power level. Things available once you could defeat S Rank threats were leagues ahead of the basic gear that I was meant to start with. However, I already had something in mind, and it wasn’t too out of the realm of possibility for an F Rank to have.

“Thirdly,” I pointed my index finger at him, “you’re coming with me.”

His jaw opened and closed as he paused and deliberated. “I would, of course, need a [Mask] too, Sire. Some manner of-“

“Of course.” I waved my hand at him. Anything he needed, we would get him sorted from my vast troves. After all, there weren’t really any rules to our little venture.

We just had to be good. In the moral sense. Killing Villains instead of the innocent.

My slight smile had curled into a full-on grin. It would be nice to have a little challenge for a change - and maybe one of the manner former Villains would be able to defeat me in our surprise reunion and I’d taste the sweet release of defeat.

There was a first time for everything.

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