The first Mission Part 4 - The Drunkard Trap

The vampire stalked the streets as every night, sneaking through the small town’s alleys, hungry and desperate to fill his hurting stomach. Being a bloodsucker was hard. Having to hunt for fresh blood every night again and again because it couldn’t be conserved was never easy. It was bearable in winter when the days were shorter and the meals not this far apart. But it wasn't winter.

Sunlight didn’t turn the vampires of this world into dust, but it still burned their skin; a horrendously painful experience, which had an unexpected side effect. No sun means less Vitamin D, which further more drove an additional hunger for meat.

But Malian was a vampire with a conscience. He had been this way since only a couple weeks, since he was turned into a bloodsucker by the vampire queen who resided at the shadow lord’s side. It was the very same vampire that has hunted him and his group all the way through the dark forest. Some didn’t make it, some got lost. And it wasn’t fate that made him survive his encounter with the queen; it was sheer dumb luck, so he thought. He also thought that maybe it wasn’t luck, but the opposite.

When she came for him, with his last strength left, he had bitten her in the face. Malian smirked because there must be an ugly scar by now. We humans are not to be trifled with. He stopped shortly. Am I still human? Anyway, it didn’t matter. The vampire queen’s blood gave him her power and this power needed to be fueled.

Malian swore that he would only take so much from a victim. He was not to become a monster. If he needed to feed on multiple people a night, so be it. Being an adventurer by profession and heart, he knew that constraint and discipline could nurture real strength. To bad that this strength was what he needed right now. The only target in sight was a staggering woman. Getting in the wrong place at the wrong time of day wasn't going to be good for her.

Almost unable to form a clear thought with this torturing hunger strikes, he murmured on sight: “Only one bite, only a bit of your blood… you have so much of it. Please!”

Oleara was so intoxicated that she didn’t even know where she was. She was eating at the tavern, wasn’t she? Must have blacked out. Now she was lying in a bed soft as heaven… No, that has only been a dream. Or has it been? She needed to go to the toilet, but where was that thing?

Was it already too late? Tears ran down her face. No! She didn’t want to end like that!

“Huh? Whou are you?”

A hazy figure with three faces appeared in front of her.

“Malian, is… is thhat you?” Not possible. They must all be dead or enslaved… He was so pale! He, he, must be a ghost seeking revenge!  “I uhm sorry! Sorry!” She nearly had to throw up, but she didn’t know if the reason was her stomach or her head. It was probably a bit of both.

“Elana, where did Sarran go?” We couldn’t find him. He had gulped down drinks as if there was no tomorrow. He may be a strange companion with strange world views, but he was brave at least; but still not brave enough to face a vampire while being sobber.

“Damn it! Did he go alone?” Elana jumped up from her bed. It has only been short nap. “And where did that girl go?” A blanket and a pillow lay on the floor. They had clearly been trampled on.

“Probably thought the worse when she woke up in a strangers room.”

“Ooooh!”, she performed a face palm.

“Didn’t think of that either. Let’s hope we don’t get into trouble!”

“Nah, pretty sure the lord wouldn’t care even if we had to ‘dispose’ of someone.”

I stared at her. “Did you…?”

She protested. “Heck no! I… I avoided that.”

No idea what that meant, but this wasn’t important right now.

“Let’s go to find Sarran before he does something stupid.”

The person in question stumbled through the streets, following a feint precognition his goddess must have sent him. Was it this or that alleyway? "Jusd gonna dry both, hicks!" It was extremely hard to understand a vision in a state like that.

Suddenly, something grabbed on to him from behind. Cold sweat ran down his back... “Let me!” ...as did something warm down his neck.

A shrill scream echoed through the streets.

When facing someone you believe to be dead, there are multiple possible reactions. You could turn around and run. You could rub your eyes in disbelief. Or – and that is what Oleara did – open your arms wide in a hearty attempt at a hug!

And indeed, that hug was met with grateful acceptance.

“Whhyrrre you so cold?”

“You are saving my life”, said the pale ghost.

“Arrren’t you dead?”

The only answer was another hearty response, which was a hearty bite.

She opened her eyes wide in shock as she struggled and tried to get out of the cold embrace. Her breathing was loud and irregular as she inhaled again and again in panic.

When the vampire finally let go off her, he sniffed with his nose directly at her open mouth. “Ugh!” The creature of the night stumbled a few steps before collapsing to the ground.

Sarran dried his tears. He hated being this sensitive and tried to hide it from everyone around him, as it made him feel weak. Then, he and the village guard rushed off towards the scream.