Creatures of the Worm

Mar 28, 2012 22:07



From the Journals of Markos Ares Sanacharibos V1.3

Regensburg: Night Two, Continued

My companions gathered for the hunt at the palace gates. We were standing together in a loose knit group. Cassandra and Driva whispered together followed by brief snickering from the former.  Callista adjusted the daggers on her hips and tested the draw of her bow.  I loosened my belt and inspected the strapping attaching the sheath of my old Gladius before half drawing the blade to test its edge.  I had carried the old weapon since the days when Callista and I fled Iberia with the Imp and Critias.  Its small size and weight should serve me well in a hunting scenario.
    "So, you hunt for...pleasure," I said to Archibald, groping for the right word.
    "Are we hunting in the city or without?" Driva called.
    "Without!" Archibald answered her loudly.  His voice boomed .  "My game master keeps the north forest stocked for my personal hunting purposes.  That's why I said it's off limits."  He huffed and laughed expansively.  "Without my permission of course."
    Archibald smacked my arm .  "It's sport, dear boy.  Sport.  We hunt for the pleasure of it.  Predator against prey.  We are the ultimate predator."
    "Hmm," I said. "Hopefully he hasn't stocked any werewolves."
    "We did have werewolves once," Archibald smirked, arcing an eyebrow.  "It was quite exciting."

#

We journeyed into the dark of the Hercynian Forest north of the city, crossing the old Roman bridge again and following a worn path into the gaping mass of trees.  Here, the Regen dumped its waters out into the rushing Danube. Lights from the city and its towers danced merrily upon the waves.  Archibald and I discussed Regensburg as we walked.  I continued to be impressed with how well off and happy his mortal population seemed.  Regensburg was now a great city, built up from a fort  founded in the early days of the Empire during Marcus Aurelius reign.  Archibald referred to his people as prey, a common enough practice among vampires in any day, but one not to my liking.
    "It's a symbiosis, really," he told me.  "Happy healthy prey makes for better vampires."
    "See, Driva," I said.  "A use for civilization after all."  She snorted and made a comment about better eating.  I grinned and shook my head, not really feeling amused.  Sometimes, I wonder why my companions are on this mission with me.
    Archibald quieted down as we entered the canopy. The path narrowed and split into two game trails both travelling in an easterly direction. At Archibald's urging, Driva chose the southern path.  I shifted my vision to what Cassandra called her crazy eyes, and I marveled at the colors and clarity I could make out around me despite the darkness.  The moonlight was brilliant, and all the details of rock, bark and leaf stood out starkly.  It was distracting, but I chose to persevere as I wanted to better control this power.
    The Prince slowed and gestured for silence.  
    "Markos, take point," he ordered.   He wrinkled his nose much as Driva does when catching a scent. As I turned away to move forward, his outline seemed to blur and just for a second he appeared to have a snout. Looking again, it was gone. I was reluctant to take the lead, but I moved forward, and we continued to follow the deer trail. A little further along, Archibald stopped us. "We might fare better if we leave the trail. Choose a direction, Markos."
I chose north, off the trail into the deepening wood. Suddenly, a wolf charged by me to my left. It looked back as it went, yellow eyes blazing with reflected moonlight and tongue dripping red.  In a second, I realized it was Driva taking the lead having shifted into wolf form. Some warning might have been nice!  But, the excitement of the hunt was catching.  Driva moved silently from tree-to-tree in a deliberate manner to the northwest. I decided to drop back to the rear with Callista. She looked a bit piqued, and was chewing her lower lip in concentration as we walked.
    We crossed the north trail. A twig snapped. At the same time, I caught movement to the left out of the corner of my eye. Yes, it's there! The underbrush shifted, leaves swaying, but there was no breeze.  I said, "Something..."
    "No birds are singing," Archibald commented. I stepped forward between the party and the motion I had seen. The air was tense with anticipation.  Something was out there.  I glanced quickly back at Callista, and in that moment lost sight of the motion. Callista looked like her eyes were crossed as if someone had just sucker punched her forehead. Looking forward again, I focused on my hearing.  There was another explosion of sound, and a tree nearby creaked as it started to sway.  What in the Hells is going on?  I could hear three separate locations for sound movement, and my mind sought to triangulate them.  This new power was proving difficult to master.
    Archibald whispered, "Ambush!"
    I drew my Gladius just as four wolves rushed at us from different directions. One came at me snarling and gnashing its fangs. I swung my sword down as the wolf went by chopping through several of its ribs. My follow through severed its head. It fell to the ground, limbs still twitching as I spun around in a crouch. Cassandra was gone. One wolf was dead from an arrow through the head. Another was decapitated. Achibald stood over it flexing bloody claws. Driva grappled with a third wolf. She looked torn up.  Fighting hasn't been going her way lately. I approached sword in hand intent on a coup-de-grace, but she warned me off. She barked and growled at the wolf, and amazingly it rolled on its back belly up in a submissive posture. She ripped its throat out with her fangs and proceeded to gorge on its blood. Bloody froth dripped from her mouth as she raised her head.
    A tree in our midst creaked and twisted, and Cassandra fell gracelessly to the ground in a rain of broken branches. She landed on her well-shaped ass clutching her bow in one hand.  She looked ready to go home.  I was beginning to agree.  Hunting and killing these wolves was clearly a waste of our Cainite talents.  I wondered what Archibald saw in this pastime. Driva was still in her bloodlust though, and we waited for her to finish feeding on the carcasses. When her eyes finally cleared, Archibald insisted we continue. He was Prince of Regensburg, our host and a fellow Brujah.  Though, I was no longer feeling the call of this hunting exercise, I felt it best to continue with him.
    As we assembled and prepared to head out again, Cassandra fell in beside me.  "This is like sex for him, isn't it?" she asked in Greek.
    "Apparently," I said, shrugging.  I cast a furtive glance at her, but looked away feeling the fool.  Old times, ancient times and bad blood lay between us.  It was a gulf wider than the Aegean.
    We continued on. I was brooding over Cassandra and the past.  A feeling of anger and loss was growing in my guts.  It was this cold ball knotted inside me, getting larger until suddenly I felt all out of sorts. I was afraid.  I was not driven to fear by the beast, but I knew something was wrong.  My skin felt it was crackling like the cooling surface of a lava flow. And then suddenly the feeling was gone.  I shook my head, frowning, not sure what to think, and we continued on as Driva led us to the northwest.  Callista spotted some movement in the thick undergrowth of the forest, and after a short time we found a massive elk with antlers spread wide on its head. The girls made short work of it with their bows and Driva leaping on it to suck it's vitality.  I stood back and watched feeling a little disgusted.  It seemed a waste to seek out and kill this beautiful animal for no other purpose than the thrill of it.
    "There is a place deeper in the forest, a hill,"  said Archibald.  "My game master always stocks something special there.  We must go on.  Deeper and darker, deeper and darker. The best game is there."  
    A breeze had kicked up a bit earlier, blowing from the South, so we chose to approach Archibald's Hill from the North. As we worked our way into position, suddenly, that feeling gripped me again. This time I knew it wasn't my thoughts causing it.  Looking around, I saw Cassandra's face was set, eyes narrowed and angry.  She approached the Prince and whispered to him, pointing over her shoulder.
    "I don't see anything." he said.
    I said, "What's going on?"
    "I saw a human form following us," she said, switching to Greek.  "It's not there anymore, and it wasn't one of us."
Her eyes narrowed and shifted from side to side. She exploded into motion and vanished in a blur back in the direction we came from.
    "I wish she wouldn't do that," I said. Now, the only person likely to detect the thing was gone.  
    Something was afoot here, but I didn't know what.  A cursorial inspection of the area found nothing.  The Prince dismissed Cassandra's warnings and insisted we press forward. I looked back the way Cassandra went feeling torn, but I chose to follow the Prince.  Cassandra made her choice.  Once again, she chose herself over us, over me.  It was just the way of things.  Whatever was going on, I felt Archibald would lead us to it.
    Driva sniffed the air. We were climbing now. The woods were thicker here and the trees looked different. Then, we heard a loud scream. Archibald charged ahead and the rest of us followed just behind. Near the top of the hill was a break in the canopy that revealed a large moonlit tree stretching into the starry sky.  Something large and dark detached itself from the mass of tree and arced smoothly through the night air blotting out stars.  It circled once around the tree top, swinging behind and then breaking from shadow into full moonlight.  It was a giant winged form.  Its head and wings were clearly that of an eagle, but the rest of the body was some beast, perhaps a lion. The thing was huge. It let loose another piercing screech that rang in our ears.  It was coming our way.
    "Now I've seen everything," I said.
    What the fuck was it? Briefly, I flash on Daedalus' Minotaur living in the sewers beneath Rome, or maybe some monstrous hybrid work of the Tzimische.  Then, it was on us, rearing on it's hind legs and slashing at Prince Archibald with one massive claw. He was knocked to the ground, bloody furrows carved in his chest.  For once Cassandra might have made the right choice, I thought. Though, we could use some bow support. I stared at it, still unable to act. Callista knocked an arrow and let fly as Driva leaped and clamped onto its wing with her lupine teeth. It grabbed her with its beak and hurled her to the side. Feathers burst from her mouth as she hit the ground. I felt the blood rushing in me and heard the familiar roar in my ears as I forced myself into motion.  Everything seemed to slow around me as I looped around behind the monster and leapt onto its back. My body grew hot as blood burned through my veins. I wrapped my arms around its neck, pulling back and up.  I tried to crush the life from it.  The thing screamed again, flailing it's claws, and I saw Driva fall back a second time.  It reached around raking at me with both sets of claws. From my vantage point, I saw that Archibald was back on his feet, his hands shaped like claws once again. He jumped high and raked the beast across the feathers of its neck just below my arms. Callista released another arrow. I heard it hit solidly. I released my hold on its neck and slid down it's back bit, out of reach of its claws.  Drawing my Gladius, I placed the point against its back planning to drive the sword in to the hilt. Before I could finish this motion, the beast fell on it's face and was still.  It gave one final piteous cry as its breath left its lungs forever.
    Now, I paid the price for my actions.  My guts churned with hunger, and the smell of spillt blood was nearly overpowering.  I retained some caution, however and wet my finger with the monsters fluid.  I tasted its blood carefully, and then drank deep, relieved that it didn't boil in my mouth. You can never tell.
    The trees parted, and Cassandra walked slowly into the clearing in which the monsters carcass lay. Her mouth was set and her eyes sad as she approached its body.  Gently, she reached out and stroked its head.
    "It was a Griffin, Markos," she said to me in Greek.  "One of the last of its kind.  It was old, so old.  Older than us. We have despoilt its home."
     "It was a bloodbound monster," I said, but I was not certain of my words. Cassandra's eyes flashed angrily.  "Couldn't you have talked to it?"
    "You mean it was...," my voice trailed off.
    "It was intelligent," she said. "Sapient. It even sounds Greek in my head."  She paused as if listening.  "It calls us the creatures of the worm.  Aren't you tired of that? We are creatures of rot and death."

#

Once long ago in the Carpathians while we journeyed to enlist the Tzimische in the war with the ancient enemy, we met a bizarre amalgamation of six mortal men that called itself Caltos.  I have never forgotten that strange sad and oddly sweet creature that we befriended only to betray.  In the early days of my governance of the Iberian Peninsula in the name of Rome, I used that story to teach the young and angry Brujah survivors of Carthage about the horrors of Cainite powers gone too far and to the respect due to mortal men.  Who among us was not chosen to be a vampire because of some trait we possessed as a mortal?  Caltos, I did forget.  I forgot and I am sorry.  Now this creature, this Griffin, perhaps the same described in the Greek legends from hundreds of years ago, possibly a sapient being is dead at our hands merely for the pleasure of one Cainite.
    We returned to Regensburg with much fanfare.  It seems the populace was used to the Prince bringing his various trophies back fro his hunts.  I found it unusual to enter the city so openly.  The sun was close to rising; the sky on the horizon turned a deep shade of purple.  I could see the weariness on my companions faces, as we made our way to our suite of rooms.  The journey back had been an odd one. Driva and the Prince spoke animatedly while Callista played with a feather she had retrieved from the Griffin's nest.  Cassandra and I walked side by side, but we couldn't have been further apart.  Neither of us spoke the entire way back.  I fell into my bed with a weariness of the soul looking forward to the emptiness of vampire sleep.

#

I woke suddenly, terrified with the full knowledge that the sun was high in the sky.  My limbs were terribly weak; I was unable to do more than lift a finger or peel back an eyelid.  It felt as if a great weight was pressing down on my chest.  Oddly, my heart was pounding, and I desperately wanted to draw a gasping breath into my lungs.  I was suffocating!  Someone was in the room with me, but I could neither see nor hear them.  I felt I was inches from the stake, from final death.  I lay there hoping at least to see who it was before the final blow fell, but noone came.  Gradually, relentlessly, the darkness of sleep rose up to claim me once again.  I slumbered.

west francia, markos, holy roman empire, regensburg, hunt, vampire

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