Vengeful Bloodlust

A good old fashioned vampire tale with a twist:)

Vengeful Bloodlust

 

          Ash covered the ground of Asher’s homeland, spilling across the plains that were once sprawling acres of woodlands.  He floated over the ground, searching for any sign of the monsters that had done this wretched deed.  There were no footprints, but a faint scent caught his attention.  The fading stench reminded him far too much of his foes.  He dropped to the ground, crouching instinctively in case they were still near.  Were the area still crowded with trees he easily could have prowled their heights in silence, but as it was, Asher was left exposed to whatever�"or whoever�"was out there.  Not that his coal black hair or all black attire helped him out in the invisibility department.  He found himself pacing like a dog; following the scent to what he’d hoped was its source.  He was ready to kill the beast.  But what he found was far worse than he had imagined.

          Lying in a heap and camouflaged by the ever-drifting ash was the remains of a human girl.  She had been torn to shreds by claws and teeth and super human strength.  It was definitely the work of the local wolves.  The poor creature had been one of the Coven’s feeders.  The Coven never left them behind…

          Asher knew then that he was not only walking through the ashes of his beloved forest, he was also walking through all that was left of his brethren.  His mother, his brothers and sisters, his friends, Emaline... The thought made his blood run cold and tore a ragged scream of rage from his throat.  This was an act of war.  The wolves had gone too far this time, and Asher refused to let his people die in vain.

          He sent up a quick and anguished prayer to Lilith that his people’s souls might rest in peace with her.  Emaline he thought again.  The weight of it was almost too much to bear.  She was the only light he had found in this cruel world since his turning.  And now even she had been taken away from him.  It just wasn’t fair!  “Life’s not fair, even in death” she would have reminded him.  Oh, how he missed her already.

          “Well,” he said to himself, “the best way to honor her memory would be to mourn and walk away from the place of her passing, coming back every once and again like a human to a grave.  That is hardly fitting.” 

The Coven taught them from childhood that when any vampire is burned, the ashes are carried all over the Earth as the spirit roams freely; the best of the vamps are carried to the arms of Lilith or Nyx, depending on their natures.  If Asher had believed this possible, he would have believed Emaline to be in Nyx’s loving care, as she had been under Nyx’s watchful eye on Earth.  But Asher couldn’t believe that the goddesses would be so cruel as to take a vamp (namely Emaline) from her home and the people she loved, just to bring her to their realms.  It just didn’t seem right.  Why not take her loved ones with her?

Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Asher turned and flew into the air.  A howl rose up from a nearby hill, and a snowy grey wolf leaped into sight.  Asher came down hard upon its flanks to grab its head and with one simple turn, “Craaaaaack,” the easiest lethal blow in his arsenal worked for him again.  That wolf never stood a chance.  Then in all of his glorious fury, Asher escaped the horrible ruins of his home.  It only served as a reminder now of what was and what could have been.

 

 

 

Loneliness…

It seemed that was all Asher knew now.  Loneliness and a bitter thirst for revenge.  It had been two weeks since he discovered his ashen hometown.  Asher had gone to the council to plead for retaliation, but they would do no such thing.  “Times have become so much more peaceful as of late,” they said, “Let us not ruin this peace with vengeful war.  What’s done is done and cannot be undone.  It can only be let go.”

In other words, the council is too weak for war with the wolves right now, Asher thought.  Well they aren’t the ones who have to deal with the loss of everything they held dear.  If the council won’t help me, I’ll do it myself.  And so Asher had made it his goal to find and eradicate the pack that had done him so wrong.  However he had to.  Even if that meant total war with all wolves.  He would find a way.   I promise Emaline, you will be avenged.

Now Asher was standing beside a river, waiting not so patiently for a boat.  He had a feeling that if the boatman didn’t hurry up, he would end up lunch.  It really wouldn't be pleasant, for Asher or the boatman.  He wasn't a big fan of river-men’s blood.  They ate way too many fish and always smelled of the murky depths. Yuck!!!!!  And here came the boatman, just in time to save his own life, though he was completely clueless of that fact. 

“Where to?” the boatman asked.

“Just go south.  I’ll tell you when to stop.”  Asher wasn’t about to tell this fishy-smelling human where he was going.  It was none of his business where a vampire spent his day, nor was it his business where any man spent his day other than the boatman himself.  Boatmen had always agitated Asher that way.  Always so nosy!

This man though was quiet, and where most boatmen would constantly try and needle out why you were going wherever it was you were going, his silence rang out like the sound of an old fashioned choir.  The way Emaline used to sound when she sang for me…  His sorrow must have shown on his face, because the boatman finally spoke.

“She must have been the one if you’re this glum.  You do realize we’re going into the swamplands, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Asher whispered, “I know.  My question is how did you know?”

“Know what, that it was a woman on your mind?  I’ve been a boatman for years, son.  I’ve learned to read the signs quite well.”

“Interesting.”  His tone was the exact opposite of his words.

“For example, I know that you’re a nightwalker.”

Asher looked sharply upward.  “What?”  He caught himself as he saw the slight smile on the boatman’s face.  “What is a nightwalker?” he asked calmly.

“Ha, pretending ignorance!  Like I haven’t seen that one before!  Vampire, I know what you are.  Like I said, I’ve been a boatman for a long time.  I’ve seen just about everything.”

The smirk on the boatman’s face was very, very annoying to say at the least.  Asher was tempted to rip it from his skull.  You could tell the man had aged much, as his skin seemed to have shrunken slightly, clinging to his bones like pale moss.  The only wrinkles he possessed though were crow’s feet.  And the most remarkable thing about the boatman was his seemingly soulless blue-grey eyes.  They tore into Asher’s very core.  Then again, maybe they weren’t soulless, but if they were the window’s to any soul, it was not human.  Nor was it vampire or werewolf or fey or any other creature that Asher had ever seen.

“You seem to know all about me,” he whispered, “but what are you?”

The man laughed.  “I am a boatman, nothing more and nothing less.  I know not where you come from, nor why you will go where you go, but I do know where you will go and I’m the one who will take you there.  Answer your question?”

“How about a name?”

“I have many names, which one would you like?”

“Which one may I call you?”

“Whichever one you like.”  The boatman jested.

“But I know none of the names by which to choose what to call you.”  Asher’s patience was running thin.  He was not in the mood to be played with.

“Yes you do,” the boatman smiled his eerie, crooked toothed grin again.  “You just won’t let yourself see them, or me.  Take a closer look my friend.  You’ve met me once before.  I found you to be a marvelous dancer actually, up until the moment your Creator stole you back.  Think, Asher.  Who could I be?”

Asher’s mind was foggy as he tried to recall beyond the veil that was the memory block created when he was turned.  All vampires had trouble remembering their human lives, especially the end of it.  Most vampires’ first memories are their new names, given to them by their Creators.  No vampire could ever remember the time in-between the end of their human life and the beginning of their vampire life.  But this man seemed to ask Asher to think back to that void of forgotten time.

And then it hit him like a bolt of lightening.  “You are the ferryman…”  There was such utter disbelief in his eyes, in his face, in his voice, that the ferry man burst out laughing.

“You can call me Charon, son.  Remember the time we spent together?  You, without a single drachma on your person, crossed over into the land of the dead.  You decided that you must do something to celebrate your good fortune at escaping to finally join your lover Emaline, who had been taken from you the year before.  Little did you know, she had been turned.  So, as you waited for the time when you could cross the River Styx in my company, you danced on the shore, even getting some of the other poor souls to dance with you for a moment.  And then your wretched Creator found you and ruined the order of things, although I suppose the gods might disagree.  Anyway, for some reason, Hecate asked me to come and tell you she wishes you luck.  Oh, and of course that this is only the beginning of something bigger than all of us.  The wolves you’re after, they’re working for someone else, someone who wants to be free.  And the only way she can be free, is through total war.  If you avenge your Emaline, if you kill these wolves, then all wolves will want to retaliate.  Then The Great War of the prophecies will come to be.  Vampire against werewolf, Fey against angels, spirits against monsters, nothing will be right.  And humanity will be caught in the midst of this, unable to defend themselves as the gods pick sides with the supernatural.  The gates of Hades shall be flooded with these unbelieving swine called humans and all hell shall break lose. This is the beginning of the reign of Chaos, and you bring it about.  If you take revenge on the wolves, all of this will come to be.  If not, who knows?  Maybe Chaos will find a new victim to bring about her plans.  I know not the future, I see only what my masters see, and they see only possibilities.  But I came here to warn you and now my warning is complete.”

In the silence that followed, Charon stroked his pole through the water once more.  “Here we are,” he smiled.  “This is where you wanted to go right?”

Asher looked around him.  The swamplands had opened up to reveal a hidden pond, with a simple log cabin standing on its shores.  It was definitely not something you’d expect to see in the middle of a swamp.  And yet, it was exactly where Asher had wanted to go.  This place had been his home for twenty years after his turning.  Then his Creator had been burned.  He had vowed never to return to this place, but some vows were just made to be broken.

“Yes, this is exactly where I wanted to go.”  He didn’t dare ask how Charon had known. God’s only knew what powers the ferryman had; the same could be said of his anger.  He was an immortal after all.  Nobody wants to piss off an immortal.  Especially not the one that decides who gets into the Underworld and who doesn’t… No one wants to take the chance of getting stuck on the wrong side of the river, their soul rotting away, unable to accept their final judgment, unable to move on into whatever eternity awaits them.  So Asher kept his curiosity to himself.

He stepped off the boat, and Charon began to pole away before he could give the ferryman his thanks.  “Good luck vampire!”  He called out as he disappeared into the swamp.

Now came the moment he had been waiting for.  Asher turned and slowly began to walk towards the little log cabin on the shore; casting out his senses around him to be sure there was no one else there.  He could smell no one but the animals of the place, hear nothing but the sounds of nature going about its business.  But something felt strange in the air… He wasn’t sure if it was his actual sense of touch noticing, for example, an air current that had been disturbed, or if it was that sixth sense that all Supernaturals possessed.  No matter, he would find out soon enough.

His guard raised of its own accord, Asher crept into the house.  He was prepared for anything, he told himself, except what actually happened.

Suddenly, a young girl jumped out at him from behind the door with a snarl, her lips curled instinctively as she growled at Asher.  Friend or foe? he wondered as he dodged her attack.  Then he noticed the girl’s pointed canines and her hands curled beside her like claws.  Her dark grey eyes held a feral poison in them that screamed enemy.  She was a wolf.

As she launched herself at him again, he tried to dodge once more, but she anticipated it this time.  When he moved, she adjusted quickly, landing on his back and bringing him to the floor.  A shock went through him, and he tried to squirm away, only succeeding as the girl moved away from him…

Warily, he looked up at the girls face, and saw that she wasn’t a girl; she was a woman, around the age he was when he died.  Being that she was a wolf though, she could be much, much older than he.  Wolves never aged anymore than vampires did.  Except in mental capacity and wisdom.  While vampires kept childish and prideful vendetta’s and got revenge on even the smallest injustice, the wolves only fought for survival.  They fought vampires because vampires constantly hunted them down, killing them to feed their misguided sense of pride and to “preserve” their family lines from being polluted.  Male vampires could have children with anyone but another vampire, but the idea of a hybrid vampire and wolf was disgusting to them.  Most vampires thought of wolves as second class citizens, so why would they want to mate with them?  But there were those few wacko vamps that believed that a hybrid between the two races would be stronger than either of them.

Asher was confused, not only as to why she had pulled away, but also as to why his thoughts had strayed so far.  He brought his mind back to what was important then and there, what was relevant to his survival.  She had drawn away and was crouched in a corner, waiting to see if he would attack, not attacking, yet not defenseless either.  She was facing him, her eyes watchful and wide, her hands curled defensively in front of her, sliding what appeared to be a small blade from her sleeve.  Why would she need a blade though? He wondered. Her claws would suffice to fend him off, especially after that shock.  Unlike so many vampires before him, Asher actually tried to learn from his mistakes.

“Trust me, I don’t need the blade,” she smiled, “I just love to use it.  It allows me to keep my human form, which allows me to move in ways I can’t as a wolf.  And I still have speed and agility to match yours, vampire.”  Her grin spread wickedly across her face. Asher got the feeling that she really didn’t like vampires any more than they liked her.  He almost wondered if she had a vendetta against them the way he had his vendetta against wolves.  But he wouldn’t allow himself to think about it.

“Who are you?”  he asked.  “Why are you here, in this place?  This is the home of a vampire.  Why do you trespass on our lands?”

She looked at him incredulously.  Then her glare rained down on him, making him feel stupid and insignificant.  “This used to be the home of a vampire. That vampire no longer lives.  Or should I say, he no longer exists.  Yes, that’s much more proper.  This land belongs to no one and nothing, except for the creatures that live here.  You have no claim to this land, so you have no more right to inquire about my business here than I have to inquire yours.  And you also have no right to force me off this land, so don’t even try, bloodsucker.  I’m not leaving until I find what I came here for.”

Author's Note

Still not finished, but whaddya think? Honestly please!!!!!!!!

Reviews

[Rob Santana]

Really good Beth. Are you planning on introducing more characters? Oh and I really really like the title.

[Elizabeth Porterfield]

Yes I am indeed:) And thank you:)

[Elizabeth Porterfield]

I've added a little more, though I haven't had time to do much lately...

[Rob Santana]

Cool. Hey you changed your name?

[Elizabeth Porterfield]

Yeah, I got kinda bored with Beth.... Do you like it or do youthink it's stupid?

[Rob Santana]

I like it alot. Sounds Gothic, underworld .

[Elizabeth Porterfield]

Thanks:) I'm glad everybody who's noticed has liked it so far:)