The Builders

Expansion of "Master and Apprentice." A vampire is sent to wipe away a town, but when the people find their fellows missing the witch hunt begins.

Melikhor paced the room of his tower. Dusty tomes lined the walls, and the plush red carpets lent a musty smell to the air. The loss of an apprentice was a set back, but the boy had been unworthy, and what was done was done. His second apprentice survived though, despite failing the test. 

A knock came. 

"Yes? What is it?" Melikhor called at the door. 

"My Lord, may I enter?"

"Yes of course Alistair. What is it?" The apprentice entered, his complexion pale as always. 

"Master, on my hunt last night I discovered a new group of humans in the area."

"I see. You're a vampire, I would imagine this to be good news for you," responded the magician. 

"These are different. They are organized. They build their city like a hive of bees. Every man has his job, and the walls rise quickly. They have already built a church of stone with a tower that threatens the sky, and they have dug a moat around their new town. The old village nearby has been dwarfed, though they cannot have been here more than a month."

"Then give me your assessment. Are they a threat?"

"To you sir I image not, though to me I do not know. What is to be done with them?"

"Perhaps these builders ought to be your next test. Kill them. All of them. However, you are not to allow them to become aware of you as the killer until only the last one is left. Do you understand?"

"I do."

"Good, then be on your way," said Melikhor dryly.

"As you will," said Alistair. He exited the room through the old oak door and stood on the thin stone ledge that was outside. Closing the door behind him, he looked out at the grassy plain. The door lead onto a stone step no more than a foot wide that jutted from the side of the tower. With no other way down, Alistair jumped. As he fell, there was a rushing sound and his form changed into that of a vampire bat. The bat rolled out of the now limp clothing and soared off into the night. 

"Alistair! Come on, it's nearly dark out. There's things to be done and you're the one who needs to be doing them!" A friendly, grizzled face was poking through Alistair's doorway. The bearded man was Alistair's neighbor in the builder community, though technically neither of them actually owned their houses. 

"Yes, yes. I'm coming." Alistair rose from bed and pulled on his clothes. Leather work boots and gloves, along with his tool harness. The builders were an efficient folk, and thought of beauty only in their architecture. 

"The sun's down Alistair! You can come out now. If you weren't so bloody strong, we'd probably throw you out for your skin condition."

"I am the way the Makers made me Gavin. You know that as well as I."

"Bah, the Makers have a right sense of humor when it comes to you. That blasted skin of yours won't stand up to anything. Silver burns, the sun burns, gods' know what else will kill you," cried Gavin. He was a bear of a man, tall and barrel chested. His pride was the thick, lustrous beard covering his neck. He groomed it everyday, and kept a small comb in his pocket to tidy it up for special occasions. 

"My test runs deeper than most. I will endure," said Alistair matter-of-factly. 

Gavin ignored him having heard it before. "You're lucky we found you that night. You would have burned up in the sun if we hadn't brought you in."

"That was ten years ago Gavin, must you keep congratulating yourself?" asked Alistair sarcastically. 

"I'll keep at it until the day I die unless you start appreciating it."

"Of course I do. I've told you that."

"Aye, in the driest manner possible."

"Well take what you can get. Isn't that what you always say?"

Gavin grunted in response and made his way off towards the wall. Alistair followed, placing his hammer in his belt. 

The night progressed slowly. The two men worked with a crew laying stones on a new city tower. The city was never at rest; work was inevitably in progress. The builders built their town ever bigger. There were only a hundred and fifty of them or so, but their town could be called naught but a city due to its splendor. 

The next morning the town came out to their usual routines, all except three. 

"The Morgan family is dead! The Morgan family is dead!" The scrawny boy raced through the streets shouting the news. "Their necks have been torn out, and their bodies broken!"

The master of the guard made his way to the city square. "The watch was not lifted on the walls last night. The killer is among us."

To be continued...

Author's Note

This work is unedited, so I'm more interested in your thoughts on the characters and plot setting than the quality of the writing itself.

Happy to take anything though!