B.F.HUUPS
patreon
Chapter 17. Helper
🕑 Added 2024-04-09 08:57:58 +0000 UTCThe villagers explained that the white man didn’t live within Strigov, but seemed to emerge from the forest to the west—where Abe had seen the white figure when returning from the tunnels beneath Strigov.
He had decided to return to the manor and see if he could enlist Elissa’s aid, but she didn’t even answer his knocks.
Collecting both grenades, he then made his way back to the forest.
Wind whistled through the calm forest, which was empty, save for the occasional crow that stopped to watch, and cawed as he marched by.
“You’re a pest, you know that?” Abe muttered as he tried to ignore the growing symphony as new crows fluttered into the trees, their yellow beady eyes following him as the caws grew louder.
The hazy light that filtered through the persistent blanket of clouds that seemed to always hang across the valley, dimmed as he marched on, night nearing.
Howls echoed in the distance, his senses acute enough to gain a vague understanding of their owners' whereabouts.
He sniffed the air.
The dogs from before. They know I’m here. And so does he.
More and more crows settled along the trees, flying to new ones as Abe walked, their infernal cacophony of caws steadily rising.
Soon the caws drowned Abe’s thoughts, blanketing his sense of sound. Nothing but the cries of crows.
He sniffed, the scent of crows lingered as well, but not enough to blind him from the pack drawing nearer.
Drawing his sword, he continued, but they didn’t come. They were close but chose not to attack.
The trees began to thin, and Abe noticed a circle of stones placed in the clearing ahead.
Then he saw them, closing in, shrouds masking their faces. They carried with them the scent of sap, blending their scent with that of the forest. Two dozen of the foul black cloaks.
Abe tightened his grip around the leather hilt of his sword and continued.
“Go back,” one of them said, extending a purplish hand from its robes.
“Leave!”
“Away with you,” another hissed.
“No, I don’t think I will,” Abe cracked his neck. He had already dealt with these things before, and he was certain he had grown stronger since consuming the tentacle zombie and the slayer captain.
Screeching, they charged with claws extended.
Holding the long sword with two hands, he brought it up and chopped it down on the black cloak leading the charge, slicing straight across the unguarded fiend’s chest, almost cutting it in two and coating his blade in inky blood.
There didn’t appear to be any thought to their attack, as the second closed in, receiving a swiping cut across its belly and toppling over.
He swung again, loosening the arm of another, then back around as he stepped back, sending his sword with tremendous momentum between the neck and shoulder of another.
Kicking the body free from his sword, he swung back around and caught another as the group surrounded him—lopping its head off with a single strike.
As more closed in, Abe swung wildly, throwing his momentum into every attack. The black-cloaked bodies piled up around him as he cut them down indiscriminately. But they just kept coming.
Cutting through one black cloak, Abe turned, another already on him. Claws dug into his side, whilst another weighted down his sword arm. Descending from all angles the shrouded figures piled atop him as his movements stilled.
He could feel them digging, worming their way through his flesh with their claws. Abe roared in defiance, pumping strength into his arms and thrashing out with claw and blade to cut down two more, but the flock of black cloaks did not deter.
More dove atop, the claws stabbing into Abe’s flesh to deliver a foreign substance that filled his veins with a gluggy, stinging sensation.
“Fuck off!” Abe screamed as fought for the strength to whirlwind himself around, his errant blade managing to cut another down as he was pulled to the ground by their weight.
His mind raced, there was no choice.
His sword tumbled to his side as more black cloaks piled atop his arm. But his second was free, the remainder of the group focused on digging their claws into his body to fill it with whatever that stuff was.
Searching for the grenade in his poke, Abe grinned as he felt the cool metal against his fingers. He grabbed hold of it, pulled it free, and brought it to his mouth.
“Don’t test me fuckers!”
He saw the blurred shapes of more black cloaks diving atop him and snickered.
“Dumb fucks.”
Abe bit the pin and lurched his neck to the side, and then he punched his hand holding the grenade into the pile of black shrouds, let go of it, and ripped his hand out.
The surreal moment of serenity that can only be experienced by pulling the pin of a grenade and waiting to blow yourself up followed. And then the bang came.
He felt the pressure, the wounds dotting his skin where shrapnel found its way, and then squeezed his eyes shut as deafening shrieking felt the air.
Some rolled off of him, whilst others climbed away, shrieking as they held their faces and stumbled through the snow, leaking black ichor.
Pushing bodies to the side, Abe rolled to his side and punched his legs when they refused to move.
“Fucking move!” he punched his leg again, and some feeling returned.
Rolling to his knees, Abe felt a sickening sensation filling within his guts and he began to hurl thick, black fluid from his mouth.
He looked down, wounds covered most of his body, leaking oozing tar. He saw the sword and pulled himself toward it as the black liquid continued to flow from his mouth.
“I’m not fucking down yet,” he gritted his teeth and climbed back to his feet.
Black cloaks were falling into the snow around him, succumbing to their wounds after a short struggle, but there were still hundreds watching him from the surrounding tree line.
“Oh, fuck,” Abe shook his head as the army of black cloaks charged from all directions.
He tried to swing, catching one of them but the crowd pulled him under, digging their claws back in with renewed vigor.
Abe clawed back at them, but in his weakened state they resisted his attacks.
“Get your fucking claws out of me,” came his weakening voice.
His vision was clouding. He could feel the substance filling his veins. It blocked out the life-giving blood of Miss Nia, replacing it with foul toxins.
The fluid reached his heart, infecting it. She flashed in his mind, her perfect curves and silver hair. Full red lips and paper-white skin.
An angry groan escaped his lips but it was useless.
Darkness crept into his vision as his veins continued to fill, ringing in his ears and a nauseating earthy scent in his nostrils.
Closing his eyes, he drifted away.
Coughing, Abe awoke to a full moon filling the sky above him.
“I’m alive,” he mouthed and tried to sit up. “And I can’t move.”
He could shift his neck slightly, but that was about all he could manage. Abe turned as much as he could to the sound of crunching snow. An unfamiliar scent of death lingered in the air. It was getting closer.
I guess I’m fucked now.
“What do we have here?”
He couldn’t see the figure, but its shadow was cast across his face.
“You’re that fucking Man in White everyone keeps talking about, aren’t you?” Abe lisped as if his mouth had been pumped full of lidocaine.
“The one and only, and you’re Evgenia’s latest pet, aren’t you? Appears you’ve gotten yourself into a spot of trouble,” he said, voice floral and lined with mockery.
“Fuck you,” Abe tried to spit but the saliva barely left his mouth.
“Oh, what a mouth you have. I’ll be sure to put it to work.”
“Put anything near it and I’ll bite it the fuck off.”
The Man in White chuckled, “Feisty. You’ll make a good servant in my army. Who knows, perhaps we’ll even live in the manor together.”
“If I don’t kill you, she will.”
“Oh, no doubt. I wouldn’t be so bold as to challenge a vampire. But my Mistress would. And if I prove myself, she might even be generous enough to let me watch over this barony for her.”
“Good luck,” Abe hissed.
“Oh, she really should have taken more care to protect one so promising,” the Man in White hummed. “I shall return for you. Don’t fight, it’ll only make it funnier for them.”
“For who?”
“Why, my little worms of course. Right now as we speak they travel through your veins, and soon they will control you,” the Man in White laughed, his footsteps crunching away through the snow.
*****
“She was supposed to be here, wasn’t she?” Kearn said, eyes slowly drifting across the amphitheater.
Beneath them, the ancient ones talked in hushed tones, debating the empty chair amongst them.
“Well, she’s obviously plotting something,” Miss Nia said, eyes fastened to the spectacle below them. “There’s no way she would surrender her bid,” she glanced up for a moment, spotting her other two sisters.
“Agreed,” Kearn said, eyeing the two sisters in attendance. “And what of the rumors? Did a war not break loose the last time a council member was killed?” Kearn turned his glance sideways towards Miss Nia. “Why nothing this time?”
“You presume a lot, Kearn. The events are only just now unfolding. It is unwise to jump to conclusions.”
“If she’s working with Nosferatu?” Kearn gritted his teeth.
“Then we should let her.”
“What are you suggesting, Mistress?”
“Those old bats refuse to raise their voices, they don’t intend to allow the inheritance to pass as it should. We can’t challenge the council. We hold faith that the council will seek to maintain balance. If they choose not to, then we have no claim.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“If Nosferatu makes a play, then the others will too. It breaks the stalemate. It means we still have a chance to inherit the seat. And I would prefer a chance, than no chance.”
“Right,” Kearn nodded.
“Still, we’re not in a good position. My barony gives me the weakest claim and a non-existent army. Securing a dowry will be essential to our success.”
“Oh?” Kearn raised a brow.
“The young one is an untapped asset. His potential is great, I’m sure you can see it.”
“I can see the way you look at him,” Kearn pursed his lips.
“Jealous are we?” Miss Nia chuckled softly, her red lips curling into a smile. “Don’t worry, I plan to see the both of you evolve.”
Kearn remained silent.
“Oh, don’t pout. You’re my general, isn’t that enough?”
“You know it is not,” Kearn’s lips thinned.
“Well, tough. We can’t all get what we want,” Miss Nia leaned back in her chair, crossing her stockinged legs.
“I haven’t given up. I’ll prove to you that I am the one you should take.”
“Please, Kearn, I hate to see my children tormented like this.”
“You thrive on it,” Kearn said, a hint of desperation seeping into his voice.
Miss Nia chuckled, “True, but who knows, maybe he won’t live up to his potential?”
“You tease again.”
“Caught me,” Miss Nia said, crossing her legs the other way.
“You’re playing with fire, you know that, right?”
“There’s your jealousy again.”
“It's a warning, not jealousy. His fates are different, you can smell it as well as I.”
“And that’s exactly what makes him so undeniably delectable. I haven’t felt something like this since I died. That spark within him, that undying heart, it reminds me of him. I didn’t know it was even possible for a living man to carry the presence of the old one.”
“And if he has so much potential, then what? How do you expect to control such a creature?”
“Who says I need to? Besides, I will use everything in my power to cast him under a spell he cannot break so easily. One that carries the fates of those such as Umbrial are seen less than once in a thousand years. Abraham cannot be wasted.”
“And yet you trial him, like the rest.”
“I have confidence, that is all,” she smiled. “Besides, failing to prove himself is just as much of a waste as letting him die. These games aren’t for fun, they’re a necessity.”
