Chapter 161: 161
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
I do not tell Kal that I think we will very much come to using my plan. Nor do I tell him that I would very much like to burn down this whole place regardless of whether or not we actually do stumble across the creatures inside it.
This terror has lived on unattended for long enough, it's high time someone got to sorting it out. Besides, once this is all said and done, regarding we all come out whole and alive, Soren won't actually need any creatures to guard the flame any more, it will be in the hands of my people again. Safe. Where it always belonged.
Thus, deciding it better not to voice my misgivings, I keep my jaw clenched, my mouth snapping shut. Kal doesn't need to know my doubts about his plan, or how I suspect there is very little chance that we won't be getting out of this maze without burning down at least one halfling to cinders. At least, not getting out of here alive.
The poor boy has enough stress on his shoulders as it is, there is no justifiable need to give him more.
With stilled breaths and lingering steps, we make our way down the corridor, towards the frigid sounds of claws and scratches that only become more clear the deeper in we go. The smell of rot and decaying flesh becomes stronger, to the point it's almost unbearable, the rancid odour making my head spin in nauseatingly sickening waves. Each step is another step closer towards me vomiting up my guts, but also another closer to the exit- and the sooner we get out of here, the better.
Between us we try to make as little sound as possible, avoiding the most brittle looking bones, and attempting with the best of our ability to suck in our breaths, keeping our breathing, and any other external sounds, to the bare minimum. Of course for Kal, being largely more mortal and relatively clumsy despite his slender form, this is a much more difficult task. Unable to share the same flawless grace that comes with being a vampire, and the soundlessness of each footfall, he treads over the debris and bone to the best of his ability, wincing at each crunch, and sighing with relief when the cavern doesn't collapse against him.
Several hallways of this later, past innumerable piles of bones, and by the time the feeling of the bond is pulsing in my chest, we finally come across the dreaded scene.
Whatever I had imagined it to be, this is much, much worse.
Hordes of halflings swarm the corridor of flesh and bone, wreathing over each other like clumps of maggots wriggling over an old and decaying corpse. The same long, skeletal bodies, pale greying flesh and dull white eyes, like monsters from a nightmare. Several lots of them crowd around mounds carcasses, tearing off hunks of flesh from a new, fairly humanoid looking carcass, their mouths red and bloodied, their fangs protruding like the teeth of a piranha. Globules of blood and meat fly through the air in a frenzy, caught up in a series of clawing hands and snarling mouths.
Surprisingly, their bodies appear more intact than the one we saw earlier, only carrying minor cuts or bruises, but still sporting the occasional swell of maggots crawling along their flesh. But despite the maggots that nibble away at their flesh, the monsters do not seem to care. Creatures like these have given up caring for such sickly things a long time ago.
Azrael had said that many of the victims of his experiments had been failures, that they had been unable to take up more than two souls in their body. Silently I wonder if this is where he dumped the output of his failings- fed their flesh and bones to the creatures of the maze rather than letting them go to waste, or giving them a proper burial. The thought alone makes me want to vomit.
Azrael is truly a despicable creature.
But I stem my nausea, swallowing down my disgust as quickly as the halflings guzzle down flesh, and steel myself for what comes next. Noticing my discomfort, Kal takes me by the hand, offering a small smile of reassurance, before dragging me into the pit of vampires in front of us, not daring a sound.
It turns out Kal was right after all, the creatures are blinder than bats. We slink right past the first few monsters without them batting some much as a single milky white eye, consumed by their insatiable hunger for flesh and blood, the angry grows of the creatures masking our occasional intake of breath.
To think that I could have become something like this- a cruel, failed experiment.
I doubt Soren would have let me become anything like them, though. Most halflings are the result of their maker's greed and vanity, the unwillingness of a vampire to give enough blood to their victim, because giving blood is giving power. As a result they turn mad, their brains addled with thoughts of blood and lust, driven to the brink of insanity by their hunger for the flesh of mortals.
But by the looks of things, mortals aren't the only things these abominations have been feeding on. I swallow down the bile that rises at the back of my throat, steadying myself as I grip on to Kal's hand tighter.
I guess they have been feeding on each other, too.
Nervous, and sweating like dogs, we side step around further hoards, sucking in our bodies in order to not brush up against the tightly packed waves of vampires, and praying against all hope that the ravenous beasts do not run into us by mistake. It is a feeble hope really, but what other choice do I have? Hope is the only thing I have left now.
We keep walking.
Deeper and deeper in, and things only get worse. By now we are five minutes in, wading through flesh and bone and blood and squirming our way past these cold, unfeeling creatures who cram the sides of the cavern like flies on roadkill. Not a single breath has passed between us. Kal's fingers grip desperately around me. I can tell by the tightness of Kal's hand in my own that he is willing me not to breathe, which isn't too hard to do considering that I barely need to any more.
But Kal, the poor little dragon, is going a nasty shade of blue and green, and more so by the minute, the combination of the putrid stench of death and sucking in breath for such a long time purging him of all life. By the looks of things, the rancid smell has already gone to his head.
I see what is about to happen right before it does.
We are nearing the last major horde of halflings, each one of them tearing at mangled scraps of flesh, and some at each other, hissing and growling like rabid dogs. It's a tight squeeze past them, too tight, and the smell of death is rancid in the air. Anyone else would have passed out by now, it's a miracle Kal has survived this long. A miracle granted only by his draconic abilities, and that miracle is quickly fading.
Just a little longer and the little dragon's plan might have gone through, but wishful thinking and luck have long since abandoned these decrepit ruins.
Kal takes a long breath in too late, his eyes widening, the smell going straight to his head. A shudder convulses through him, his eyes rolling back, his legs failing him, buckling beneath him like paper crumpling under the weight of a stone. His form flickers, one minute a boy, the next a tiny dragon, no longer finding it within himself to maintain such a taxing transformation.
Everything from there seems to happen in slow motion.
Kal falls back lifelessly, smoke pouring out of every orifice, his form folding up into mine. One minute I am holding a boy, the next, a dragon the size of a small dog, passed out limp and cold in my arms with a heavy thump.
I stand there for a second, taking in exactly what has happened with a grim realisation.
"Fuck," I whisper, as hell bursts around me.
The creatures rage into life, the sound of fresh meat suddenly back on their menu. Without a second thought I sprint as far as I can down the corridor, tailed by the ravenous monstrous, just barely keeping a lead with my newfound vampiric strength. It's a good thing I was turned, because there is no way in hell I could have outrun these creatures otherwise. But I am barely twenty paces ahead of them, and they are rapidly closing in, closing in fast.
I need a plan.
Sprinting fast, I pull up my sleeves, hugging the limp form of the dragon close to my chest. I need to act quickly, very quickly. I would have approximately five seconds if I turn around now to do something monumental, and by the sounds of how many halflings are on my tail, it is going to have to be nothing short of that.
So I get myself prepared.
"Five," I begin to count, rounding another corner, my heart flitting in my chest, the pulling sensation of the bond tugging me closer.
"Four." As I run I slip the little dragon into my sachet, out of harm's way for the time being, praying to the heavens he won't suddenly wake up and tear everything up in a panic. I wipe a bead of moisture from my brow.
"Three." The rabid beasts are closing in, skittering up the sides of the walls, their teeth gnashing, white, sightless eyes flaring with the thought of fresh, live meat. Fear is my fuel, and terror is my fire. My veins begin to heat, warming as fire thrums through my body, building up in my soul.
"Two," The light inside me builds, excreted from the thin contains of my skin. The end is near, I can feel it, but not near enough. These beasts would surely catch me before then. Golden flames coil at my wrists.
"One."
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
I do not tell Kal that I think we will very much come to using my plan. Nor do I tell him that I would very much like to burn down this whole place regardless of whether or not we actually do stumble across the creatures inside it.
This terror has lived on unattended for long enough, it's high time someone got to sorting it out. Besides, once this is all said and done, regarding we all come out whole and alive, Soren won't actually need any creatures to guard the flame any more, it will be in the hands of my people again. Safe. Where it always belonged.
Thus, deciding it better not to voice my misgivings, I keep my jaw clenched, my mouth snapping shut. Kal doesn't need to know my doubts about his plan, or how I suspect there is very little chance that we won't be getting out of this maze without burning down at least one halfling to cinders. At least, not getting out of here alive.
The poor boy has enough stress on his shoulders as it is, there is no justifiable need to give him more.
With stilled breaths and lingering steps, we make our way down the corridor, towards the frigid sounds of claws and scratches that only become more clear the deeper in we go. The smell of rot and decaying flesh becomes stronger, to the point it's almost unbearable, the rancid odour making my head spin in nauseatingly sickening waves. Each step is another step closer towards me vomiting up my guts, but also another closer to the exit- and the sooner we get out of here, the better.
Between us we try to make as little sound as possible, avoiding the most brittle looking bones, and attempting with the best of our ability to suck in our breaths, keeping our breathing, and any other external sounds, to the bare minimum. Of course for Kal, being largely more mortal and relatively clumsy despite his slender form, this is a much more difficult task. Unable to share the same flawless grace that comes with being a vampire, and the soundlessness of each footfall, he treads over the debris and bone to the best of his ability, wincing at each crunch, and sighing with relief when the cavern doesn't collapse against him.
Several hallways of this later, past innumerable piles of bones, and by the time the feeling of the bond is pulsing in my chest, we finally come across the dreaded scene.
Whatever I had imagined it to be, this is much, much worse.
Hordes of halflings swarm the corridor of flesh and bone, wreathing over each other like clumps of maggots wriggling over an old and decaying corpse. The same long, skeletal bodies, pale greying flesh and dull white eyes, like monsters from a nightmare. Several lots of them crowd around mounds carcasses, tearing off hunks of flesh from a new, fairly humanoid looking carcass, their mouths red and bloodied, their fangs protruding like the teeth of a piranha. Globules of blood and meat fly through the air in a frenzy, caught up in a series of clawing hands and snarling mouths.
Surprisingly, their bodies appear more intact than the one we saw earlier, only carrying minor cuts or bruises, but still sporting the occasional swell of maggots crawling along their flesh. But despite the maggots that nibble away at their flesh, the monsters do not seem to care. Creatures like these have given up caring for such sickly things a long time ago.
Azrael had said that many of the victims of his experiments had been failures, that they had been unable to take up more than two souls in their body. Silently I wonder if this is where he dumped the output of his failings- fed their flesh and bones to the creatures of the maze rather than letting them go to waste, or giving them a proper burial. The thought alone makes me want to vomit.
Azrael is truly a despicable creature.
But I stem my nausea, swallowing down my disgust as quickly as the halflings guzzle down flesh, and steel myself for what comes next. Noticing my discomfort, Kal takes me by the hand, offering a small smile of reassurance, before dragging me into the pit of vampires in front of us, not daring a sound.
It turns out Kal was right after all, the creatures are blinder than bats. We slink right past the first few monsters without them batting some much as a single milky white eye, consumed by their insatiable hunger for flesh and blood, the angry grows of the creatures masking our occasional intake of breath.
To think that I could have become something like this- a cruel, failed experiment.
I doubt Soren would have let me become anything like them, though. Most halflings are the result of their maker's greed and vanity, the unwillingness of a vampire to give enough blood to their victim, because giving blood is giving power. As a result they turn mad, their brains addled with thoughts of blood and lust, driven to the brink of insanity by their hunger for the flesh of mortals.
But by the looks of things, mortals aren't the only things these abominations have been feeding on. I swallow down the bile that rises at the back of my throat, steadying myself as I grip on to Kal's hand tighter.
I guess they have been feeding on each other, too.
Nervous, and sweating like dogs, we side step around further hoards, sucking in our bodies in order to not brush up against the tightly packed waves of vampires, and praying against all hope that the ravenous beasts do not run into us by mistake. It is a feeble hope really, but what other choice do I have? Hope is the only thing I have left now.
We keep walking.
Deeper and deeper in, and things only get worse. By now we are five minutes in, wading through flesh and bone and blood and squirming our way past these cold, unfeeling creatures who cram the sides of the cavern like flies on roadkill. Not a single breath has passed between us. Kal's fingers grip desperately around me. I can tell by the tightness of Kal's hand in my own that he is willing me not to breathe, which isn't too hard to do considering that I barely need to any more.
But Kal, the poor little dragon, is going a nasty shade of blue and green, and more so by the minute, the combination of the putrid stench of death and sucking in breath for such a long time purging him of all life. By the looks of things, the rancid smell has already gone to his head.
I see what is about to happen right before it does.
We are nearing the last major horde of halflings, each one of them tearing at mangled scraps of flesh, and some at each other, hissing and growling like rabid dogs. It's a tight squeeze past them, too tight, and the smell of death is rancid in the air. Anyone else would have passed out by now, it's a miracle Kal has survived this long. A miracle granted only by his draconic abilities, and that miracle is quickly fading.
Just a little longer and the little dragon's plan might have gone through, but wishful thinking and luck have long since abandoned these decrepit ruins.
Kal takes a long breath in too late, his eyes widening, the smell going straight to his head. A shudder convulses through him, his eyes rolling back, his legs failing him, buckling beneath him like paper crumpling under the weight of a stone. His form flickers, one minute a boy, the next a tiny dragon, no longer finding it within himself to maintain such a taxing transformation.
Everything from there seems to happen in slow motion.
Kal falls back lifelessly, smoke pouring out of every orifice, his form folding up into mine. One minute I am holding a boy, the next, a dragon the size of a small dog, passed out limp and cold in my arms with a heavy thump.
I stand there for a second, taking in exactly what has happened with a grim realisation.
"Fuck," I whisper, as hell bursts around me.
The creatures rage into life, the sound of fresh meat suddenly back on their menu. Without a second thought I sprint as far as I can down the corridor, tailed by the ravenous monstrous, just barely keeping a lead with my newfound vampiric strength. It's a good thing I was turned, because there is no way in hell I could have outrun these creatures otherwise. But I am barely twenty paces ahead of them, and they are rapidly closing in, closing in fast.
I need a plan.
Sprinting fast, I pull up my sleeves, hugging the limp form of the dragon close to my chest. I need to act quickly, very quickly. I would have approximately five seconds if I turn around now to do something monumental, and by the sounds of how many halflings are on my tail, it is going to have to be nothing short of that.
So I get myself prepared.
"Five," I begin to count, rounding another corner, my heart flitting in my chest, the pulling sensation of the bond tugging me closer.
"Four." As I run I slip the little dragon into my sachet, out of harm's way for the time being, praying to the heavens he won't suddenly wake up and tear everything up in a panic. I wipe a bead of moisture from my brow.
"Three." The rabid beasts are closing in, skittering up the sides of the walls, their teeth gnashing, white, sightless eyes flaring with the thought of fresh, live meat. Fear is my fuel, and terror is my fire. My veins begin to heat, warming as fire thrums through my body, building up in my soul.
"Two," The light inside me builds, excreted from the thin contains of my skin. The end is near, I can feel it, but not near enough. These beasts would surely catch me before then. Golden flames coil at my wrists.
"One."
I do not tell Kal that I think we will very much come to using my plan. Nor do I tell him that I would very much like to burn down this whole place regardless of whether or not we actually do stumble across the creatures inside it.This terror has lived on unattended for long enough, it's high time someone got to sorting it out. Besides, once this is all said and done, regarding we all come out whole and alive, Soren won't actually need any creatures to guard the flame any more, it will be in the hands of my people again. Safe. Where it always belonged.Thus, deciding it better not to voice my misgivings, I keep my jaw clenched, my mouth snapping shut. Kal doesn't need to know my doubts about his plan, or how I suspect there is very little chance that we won't be getting out of this maze without burning down at least one halfling to cinders. At least, not getting out of here alive.The poor boy has enough stress on his shoulders as it is, there is no justifiable need to give him more.With stilled breaths and lingering steps, we make our way down the corridor, towards the frigid sounds of claws and scratches that only become more clear the deeper in we go. The smell of rot and decaying flesh becomes stronger, to the point it's almost unbearable, the rancid odour making my head spin in nauseatingly sickening waves. Each step is another step closer towards me vomiting up my guts, but also another closer to the exit- and the sooner we get out of here, the better. Between us we try to make as little sound as possible, avoiding the most brittle looking bones, and attempting with the best of our ability to suck in our breaths, keeping our breathing, and any other external sounds, to the bare minimum. Of course for Kal, being largely more mortal and relatively clumsy despite his slender form, this is a much more difficult task. Unable to share the same flawless grace that comes with being a vampire, and the soundlessness of each footfall, he treads over the debris and bone to the best of his ability, wincing at each crunch, and sighing with relief when the cavern doesn't collapse against him.Several hallways of this later, past innumerable piles of bones, and by the time the feeling of the bond is pulsing in my chest, we finally come across the dreaded scene.Whatever I had imagined it to be, this is much, much worse.Hordes of halflings swarm the corridor of flesh and bone, wreathing over each other like clumps of maggots wriggling over an old and decaying corpse. The same long, skeletal bodies, pale greying flesh and dull white eyes, like monsters from a nightmare. Several lots of them crowd around mounds carcasses, tearing off hunks of flesh from a new, fairly humanoid looking carcass, their mouths red and bloodied, their fangs protruding like the teeth of a piranha. Globules of blood and meat fly through the air in a frenzy, caught up in a series of clawing hands and snarling mouths.Surprisingly, their bodies appear more intact than the one we saw earlier, only carrying minor cuts or bruises, but still sporting the occasional swell of maggots crawling along their flesh. But despite the maggots that nibble away at their flesh, the monsters do not seem to care. Creatures like these have given up caring for such sickly things a long time ago.Azrael had said that many of the victims of his experiments had been failures, that they had been unable to take up more than two souls in their body. Silently I wonder if this is where he dumped the output of his failings- fed their flesh and bones to the creatures of the maze rather than letting them go to waste, or giving them a proper burial. The thought alone makes me want to vomit.Azrael is truly a despicable creature.But I stem my nausea, swallowing down my disgust as quickly as the halflings guzzle down flesh, and steel myself for what comes next. Noticing my discomfort, Kal takes me by the hand, offering a small smile of reassurance, before dragging me into the pit of vampires in front of us, not daring a sound.It turns out Kal was right after all, the creatures are blinder than bats. We slink right past the first few monsters without them batting some much as a single milky white eye, consumed by their insatiable hunger for flesh and blood, the angry grows of the creatures masking our occasional intake of breath. To think that I could have become something like this- a cruel, failed experiment.I doubt Soren would have let me become anything like them, though. Most halflings are the result of their maker's greed and vanity, the unwillingness of a vampire to give enough blood to their victim, because giving blood is giving power. As a result they turn mad, their brains addled with thoughts of blood and lust, driven to the brink of insanity by their hunger for the flesh of mortals.But by the looks of things, mortals aren't the only things these abominations have been feeding on. I swallow down the bile that rises at the back of my throat, steadying myself as I grip on to Kal's hand tighter.I guess they have been feeding on each other, too.Nervous, and sweating like dogs, we side step around further hoards, sucking in our bodies in order to not brush up against the tightly packed waves of vampires, and praying against all hope that the ravenous beasts do not run into us by mistake. It is a feeble hope really, but what other choice do I have? Hope is the only thing I have left now. We keep walking. Deeper and deeper in, and things only get worse. By now we are five minutes in, wading through flesh and bone and blood and squirming our way past these cold, unfeeling creatures who cram the sides of the cavern like flies on roadkill. Not a single breath has passed between us. Kal's fingers grip desperately around me. I can tell by the tightness of Kal's hand in my own that he is willing me not to breathe, which isn't too hard to do considering that I barely need to any more.But Kal, the poor little dragon, is going a nasty shade of blue and green, and more so by the minute, the combination of the putrid stench of death and sucking in breath for such a long time purging him of all life. By the looks of things, the rancid smell has already gone to his head.I see what is about to happen right before it does. We are nearing the last major horde of halflings, each one of them tearing at mangled scraps of flesh, and some at each other, hissing and growling like rabid dogs. It's a tight squeeze past them, too tight, and the smell of death is rancid in the air. Anyone else would have passed out by now, it's a miracle Kal has survived this long. A miracle granted only by his draconic abilities, and that miracle is quickly fading.Just a little longer and the little dragon's plan might have gone through, but wishful thinking and luck have long since abandoned these decrepit ruins.Kal takes a long breath in too late, his eyes widening, the smell going straight to his head. A shudder convulses through him, his eyes rolling back, his legs failing him, buckling beneath him like paper crumpling under the weight of a stone. His form flickers, one minute a boy, the next a tiny dragon, no longer finding it within himself to maintain such a taxing transformation.Everything from there seems to happen in slow motion.Kal falls back lifelessly, smoke pouring out of every orifice, his form folding up into mine. One minute I am holding a boy, the next, a dragon the size of a small dog, passed out limp and cold in my arms with a heavy thump.I stand there for a second, taking in exactly what has happened with a grim realisation."Fuck," I whisper, as hell bursts around me. The creatures rage into life, the sound of fresh meat suddenly back on their menu. Without a second thought I sprint as far as I can down the corridor, tailed by the ravenous monstrous, just barely keeping a lead with my newfound vampiric strength. It's a good thing I was turned, because there is no way in hell I could have outrun these creatures otherwise. But I am barely twenty paces ahead of them, and they are rapidly closing in, closing in fast.I need a plan.Sprinting fast, I pull up my sleeves, hugging the limp form of the dragon close to my chest. I need to act quickly, very quickly. I would have approximately five seconds if I turn around now to do something monumental, and by the sounds of how many halflings are on my tail, it is going to have to be nothing short of that. So I get myself prepared. "Five," I begin to count, rounding another corner, my heart flitting in my chest, the pulling sensation of the bond tugging me closer."Four." As I run I slip the little dragon into my sachet, out of harm's way for the time being, praying to the heavens he won't suddenly wake up and tear everything up in a panic. I wipe a bead of moisture from my brow."Three." The rabid beasts are closing in, skittering up the sides of the walls, their teeth gnashing, white, sightless eyes flaring with the thought of fresh, live meat. Fear is my fuel, and terror is my fire. My veins begin to heat, warming as fire thrums through my body, building up in my soul."Two," The light inside me builds, excreted from the thin contains of my skin. The end is near, I can feel it, but not near enough. These beasts would surely catch me before then. Golden flames coil at my wrists."One."
