Chapter Text
Abolish blinked up at the lid of the sarcophagus he had been sealed in.
“Huh…” He hadn’t expected to ever wake up again. He tentatively put his hands on the cold stone and pushed a little. Surprisingly, he actually felt it move. He furrowed his brows. It seemed as heavy as it should be, all that had changed was his own strength. He pushed harder and managed to slide the lid off; it landed on the ground with an earsplittingly loud thud which reverberated in the large crypt-hall. Abolish winced. Then he climbed out, noting that his body wasn’t sore or aching at all. Aside from some fairly substantial moss- and plant-growth, nothing had changed, so it seemed that a long time has passed without anyone finding him. His first thought was that this was a good thing, but then he thought more about the implications of his waking up again…
He shook his head. He needed to assess the situation before he could draw any conclusions.
Upstairs, he was quite surprised to find that the late vampire lord’s castle barely existed anymore; all that remained of this once grand and imposing structure was the foundation with some small, crumbled walls. How many centuries had passed…? Or perhaps there had been an earthquake or the castle had been attacked and consequently torn down… Although, if either of those happened more recently, then there should be much more debris around, and less overgrowth.
The bridge leading to the castle had begun to collapse as well, though the damage wasn’t nearly as severe and it could still be traversed without issue. However, there was an issue which made itself apparent as soon as he reached the woods with their plentiful wildlife: his mouth was watering – he was hungry.
Abolish swallowed. It didn’t feel like his… his human hunger. There wasn’t that slight twinge of pain or a queasiness, it felt more like… thirst, but if it dried out his intestines rather than his mouth. And the thought of drinking the blood of one of those wild chickens made flame gush into his stomach.
He swallowed again, his mind resisting the idea even as his body clearly responded well to it.
“No, it’s fine,” he mumbled. I just need to get this over with. If I want to survive…
He stuffed his long black exorcists’ robe into his inventory before going to catch a chicken; it took uncannily little effort. Of course, he had experience handling these animals but he was never able to do it with such ease; they were always so quick and they scratched and flapped their wings so wildly that it made him feel inhibited. But now he was naturally faster and calmer, like he’d somehow gained a true understanding of how much more powerful he was than these creatures, which meant that he had absolutely nothing to worry about.
He gripped the chicken by the feet and took hold of its wings before quickly clamping his mouth around its twitching, thrashing throat. He flinched at the sensation of his new fangs digging into living flesh, at the first taste of blood. It was… not what he expected. For some reason that seemed silly to him now, he had always thought that blood had a different taste for vampires; but it tasted just as acrid and bitter to him as it did when he was still human, all that had changed was that he could feel the true depth of its flavour, and that he could appreciate the way it made his tongue sting before it flowed down his throat, thick as… well, blood. It didn’t take long for the animal to run dry but he struggled to separate himself from it, even though the feathers were disgusting in his mouth. Finally, he sucked one of them into his throat and he dropped the cadaver, coughing loudly.
“Eugh.” He had to use his fingers to make himself gag, but he did manage to remove it. Then he just stared down at the chicken laying at his feet for a moment, wondering if he should take it. After all, raw meat could nourish a vampire too, albeit not nearly as well as blood. He wanted to eat it right away – quickly get that first experience over with too – but he couldn’t eat it with the feathers and he had nothing to even try to properly remove them; everything he had on his person had been taken from him before he was sealed away. Still, those feathers could be useful and, the more he thought about it, wasting any food seemed more than foolish in his situation. So he pulled his robe back out of his inventory and shoved the cadaver into it instead. He briefly looked down at his yellowed cotton shirt; it was covered with fresh bloodstains, as expected, and he was grateful for his foresight as he covered them up with the robe before continuing on his way.
He didn’t try to kill any more animals as he went, although he did drink from some of the cows and pigs he encountered. That had been easier but also much more awkward than expected; it could almost made him understand why so many of them preferred to bite humans despite the fact that it wasn’t actually necessary for them.
As the forest began to thin out into the plains beside it, he couldn’t help but notice his face itch a little, almost like he had to sneeze. Abolish wrinkled his nose. Was that the sun? Surely not; he hadn’t felt it like that when he had left the castle. He rubbed at his face a little but that did nothing except make his fingers itch in that strange way as well. And as he pulled them away, he saw how much more ashen his skin was, and how much the blue veins on the back of his hand stood out against it.
“Oh. Looks like that was… too much,” he mumbled. That wasn’t good – if he was like most other vampires he’d encountered, his eyes were an unnerving shade of red now – but seeing as he was alone, it was hardly the worst thing.
He could see a strange wooden structure on the horizon; a wall surrounding a small village – the nearest settlement to the vampire lord’s castle. He’d spent the night prior to his final attack there, although the wall hadn’t been there at the time. It looked abandoned from the outside, which was a relief initially, but as he got closer, it became obvious from the noise that he wouldn’t be alone there.
***
Late in the evening, after managing to gather some information on the town – Oakhurst, the name hadn’t changed in all that time – as well as the other people there – all non-inhabitants who had only arrived today –, Abolish went to rebuild one of the houses for himself. This situation was very suspicious, although it would be beneficial for him to stay even if that wasn’t the case, for the sake of getting used to his current condition. As he worked, he let everything he knew so far pass through his mind.
The most important piece of information was that several centuries had passed since he’d been sealed away. While a few of the others had discussed the history of this place, they had mentioned a pattern of massacres – apparently there was one every two hundred years, which had not been the case when he was last here. And apparently they had all arrived just in time for the next one.
The other matter of great importance was the beacon in the centre of town. He suspected it might have been used to put him to sleep for all those years, although, if that was true, it must have lost its original effect with time and become nothing but and amplifier for human strength and health. At least that was the case for this one; some of them had mentioned stumbling across another one in the woods. He would need to investigate further.
It didn’t seem like the others regarded him as much of a threat, even with his still changed appearance. Actually, his clothes had drawn more attention than his eyes or his pallor.
“Are you part of a cult?” Avid asked very suddenly, prompting several remarks about his rudeness from the other people in the circle they had formed.
He simply said ‘No’ as the others spoke over him.
“It’s just a fancy robe!” Shelby said.
“Yeah! It’s more monk-y than anythin’, are ye a monk?” Drift asked.
“Ooh! Or a priest?” Sausage cut in.
“U-Uh, no, this was…” He cleared his throat. “It seems like a priest-robe, but– I have lived in a monastery, but I’m not necessarily a priest or– or a monk.”
Then there was a moment of silence before–
“That– That does sound like a monk.”
“Yeah, that’s monk-vibes.”
“Or cult-vibes…”
“Maybe you just have a different name for that.”
Speaking of which: the other new inhabitants of Oakhurst. There were thirteen of them in total and all had resolved to stay and rebuild the town to the best of their abilities for their own reasons. Abolish was quite suspicious of all of them, if only due to the strangeness of their circumstances, but there were some that were worse than others when it came to this.
Avid was a young man who somehow seemed both deeply melancholic and incredibly skittish. He laughed a lot – clearly out of nervousness – and had a tendency to ramble, so he had spoken quite a lot, although he had revealed little of value. He claimed that he had lived in Oakhurst as a child before moving away, and the closest explanation he’d given as to why he was here was that he wanted to return to his home; but he couldn’t be much older than twenty and this town had obviously been in ruins for longer than that. A peculiar liar.
Owen, by contrast, was someone who had neither laughed nor spoken very much. He seemed short-tempered and easily irritated; Abolish suspected he was dealing with some kind of an infection due to the bandages he’d seen peeking out from beneath his dark cloak. He had said that he was only passing through without offering an explanation for why he was staying, and he couldn’t help but think that he was hiding something besides diseased skin. Secretive.
Sausage was a doctor specializing in surgery who had near immediately put off anyone he mentioned his occupation to with his overenthusiastic poetic waxing about the romantics of blood. He claimed to be here for the sake of charity as a travelling healer visiting poor settlements. A potential vampire.
Scott was nobleman whose family ruled over some of the neighbouring lands. Abolish did vaguely remember his last name, Goldsmith, from his time travelling through to the vampire’s castle, so he was inclined to believe that part of his story. But he claimed that he came to this town in order to ‘see for himself how the peasantry lives’, which seemed dubious. Probably another liar.
Martyn was a passionate believer in everything supernatural, although he clearly had no experience with it – he said he was here to find legitimate proof of it to show to his family, who apparently thought him insane. He was a foolhardy young man, also quite skittish but in a way that was more aggressive than scared. Potential for danger.
Ren was the oldest of the group and seemed to be a kind soul, but he claimed to be a nobleman when his clothing and manner of speaking clearly marked him as coming from the lower class. An obvious liar.
Drift was apparently here because her mother told her to travel to Oakhurst on her deathbed. She seemed to be among the most level-headed here, yet also claimed that her odd accent was the result of a curse. Strange.
Pyro, too, claimed to be here on behalf of his family; they were able to trace their bloodline to this place and wanted him to document it or see about ‘reclaiming’ their homestead somehow. He had brought a device called a ‘photographic camera’ which could capture images of the world on paper, which was meant to help him in his endeavour. Abolish had found that disquieting but judging by the lack of meaningful reactions from the others, it wasn’t a particularly strange thing to possess in these times. They were very polite and almost seemed a little sheepish, but not self-conscious. So far, harmless.
Legundo was an investigator by occupation who claimed to have come here for respite from his work. He did not believe in vampires or curses or the number of other supernatural explanations for the consistent mass-death of the inhabitants, but the fact that people kept dying remained, which made this place a more-than-strange choice for a respite from anything. Despite this, Abolish’s instinct told him that he was among the more trustworthy ones here. He might need some time to properly assess him.
Pearl was a writer who sold her works under the pseudonym P. L. Moon. Apparently, she had been having issues with her craft and decided that coming to this place would inspire her. Yet another very suspect reason coming from a person that seemed quite honest on first impression.
Cleo was sent by the army to begin to convert the town the town into an outpost for them. It seemed that they had wanted to begin with their work right away, but was thrown off by the presence of this large group of strangers, which irritated her. She also had little patience for all the talk of the supernatural, very firmly believing that the previous inhabitants had all been killed by disease, and being quick to tell the others this. A strong personality.
Apo had come here to write something about Oakhurst, which was, for some reason, necessary for her to complete her studies and graduate from her university. They were clearly unenthusiastic about this task and eager to leave again. A person with common sense.
Shelby was quick to tell everyone that she was a monster-hunter, following in the footsteps of her family. That was careless but also remarkably honest. Her occupation seemed fundamentally similar to Abolish – perhaps it could be said to be the same one with a different name – but her inexperience was obvious. Harmless.
“Hm…”
Abolish took a few steps away from his nearly-finished house. It already looked quite good; he’d put a lot of effort into it. But now he was exhausted… and hungry.
Taking care that no one saw him, he disappeared into the dark woods.