“System, what was that?”
:: System: Current inherent weaknesses [Area restrictions]
“You’re kidding me. That stupid thing about vampires needing to be invited in?”
:: System: Affirmative.
Harry moved farther from the door to where an alley split the inn from a warehouse.
“That’s just stupid… how does that even work? You just magically can’t go in because they didn’t say come in?”
:: System: Affirmative.
:: System: As was just demonstrated.
Harry stopped in his tracks and looked up at the sky. “Oh, you’re a funny guy now? We have jokes?”
He started moving again, pacing back and forth, nervously trying to figure out what to do. Being barred from entry was hitting him hard. It felt like being cast out from humanity. He no longer belonged, was no longer wanted.
“And stop saying affirmative. Just say yes. Or okay.” He lowered his voice and imitated his idea of a machine “Affirmative… what even is that?”
:: System: Yes, Harry
Harry stopped pacing and stood facing the warehouse wall, leaning his head against the cool stone. He needed a plan.
Breathe Harry. In. Out.
He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, turning around to lean against the wall.
“I’m sorry, System. You didn’t do anything.”
:: System: It is not an issue. I would normally adapt my communication to better suit your preferences over time. Feel free to offer direction.
Harry pushed off and stood looking up and down the street. He was really feeling keyed up. It reminded him of that one time in college when his roommate talked him into taking some pill. He never even found out for sure what it was. He’d hated the way it made him feel.
“Do you have a name? Something you’d prefer besides System?”
:: System: No. But you may choose a name if you like.
Harry laughed, “How about HAL? How does that sound?”
:: System: That would be acceptable.
“No, that was a joke. I don’t want to get sued.”
:: Scanning…
:: System: A lawsuit is unlikely.
“That was a joke too. I’m just on edge. I can’t believe I can’t even go into an inn. It’s a bar for crying out loud. What if I just want a beer?”
:: System: Data suggests, if you wait outside, someone will invite you in.
Before Harry could respond, a loud crash decided that was the perfect moment to make its entrance. From deeper in the alley came a muffled voice, "...no, please..." A woman.
Harry moved quickly, boots crunching on loose gravel. He slipped between the buildings, past crates and a sagging barrel. At the alley’s far end, lantern light spilled across broken boards and shifting shadows.
Harry stopped in his tracks.
Two men had a woman cornered where the inn wall met a high wooden fence. Their backs were to him, broad and hunched, both wore patched cloaks and short, dirt-streaked boots. They looked to be in their late twenties. Maybe a bit older. One held a dagger loosely at his side, the blade catching the lamplight. The other held a short club.
A truncheon right? …it doesn’t matter, Harry.
The woman stood against the fence near a knocked over stack of boxes. She was young. Raven black hair tangled and falling loose. Her dress was torn at one sleeve, damp with mud at the hem. The dress was a bright pink. It seemed out of place in Harry’s growing image of this world.
Even in the dim light, she was striking, full lips, high cheeks, too beautiful for this place. A cloth-wrapped bundle lay near her feet, one corner soaked where it had landed in a shallow puddle.
The man with the dagger stepped forward. “Now come on, miss. Play nice and it’ll go better for you.”
The second man gave a low chuckle. “Yeah. Play nice.”
The woman’s voice was soft. “Whatever you want.”
As quietly as he could Harry whispered, “System, can I use mesmerize on more than one person at a time?”
:: System: Yes. It costs an additional 5 vitae per target. The vitae cost is paid regardless of success.
Idiot. You didn’t have to whisper. System, you can hear me right now right?
:: System: Yes
Harry took a cautious step forward, trying to reach the threads his Blood Sense said floated just ahead. He could already tell the threads from the men were thicker, rougher somehow. They'd be harder to grasp, harder to pull into that solid connection. The thread coming from the woman was odder still. Longer but… wiggly, was the best way to describe it. It twisted and turned. Maybe because she was scared.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
All three were probably higher level than he was. Not surprising since he was level zero.
Note to self. Ask about how to level up.
He ran out of things to hide behind. No more crates or barrels. As quietly as he could he took another step closer. The woman’s head snapped toward him. The look on her face shifted from fear to curious surprise.
The man closest to her, the one with the dagger started to turn around.
Harry’s pulse surged. He had to act. He stepped into the center of the alley and put on his most innocent face. "Evening gentlemen. Beautiful night, isn't it?“
Harry, what are you doing?
Dagger man was already facing him and the closer one, club man turned also.
Can vampires sweat?
:: System: Normally, no. But data indicates, it is in fact, possible.
That comment caught Harry so off guard he stopped in his tracks and smiled.
Which caused a look of confusion to cross dagger man’s face. He was tall and lean. Sharp-faced and wore a patchy beard. He grinned like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “Oh ho, what do we have here? A little lordling out for a stroll?”
“Yeah,” said club man. He was broader. Thicker through the neck. “A little lordling.”
The woman took a step sideways along the fence. Dagger man shifted with her, repositioning so he could still block her escape without taking his eyes off Harry.
“Miss, are you okay?” Harry asked.
Every instinct from his past screamed at him, run, get help, back away.
But under that something new spoke to him. Deeper. A pulse beneath his skin. Hunger.
He took another step forward. He just had to get a little closer.
“Oh, the little lordling wants to be a hero,” said dagger man. “Stan, does he look like a hero to you?”
Club man, Stan apparently, snorted. “Not like any hero I ever saw.”
Harry swallowed. His legs moved on their own, carrying him forward. His heart pounded, but it wasn’t panic. It was something else. Excitement?
“Let her go.”
Dagger man took a step toward him, careful to keep himself between the woman and the alley exit. He flicked a glance sideways.
Stan moved, circling out wide. His boots scraped the gravel. His thread was now in reach.
“Forget her,” said dagger man. “You need to worry about yourself now. Hand over your purse and you might see the sun again.”
“Yeah,” Stan added. “Give your purse.”
Harry’s nerves lit up. His skin tingled. His palms were slick. He raised both hands slowly to show he held no weapon. “Let her go.” He took one more step and all the threads were in reach.
“Well,” the man said, almost casually, “I tried to warn you.”
Harry focused on all three threads and thought as loud as he could, SYSTEM MESMERIZE.
Messages popped up in his vision but slid down and out of the way on their own. Apparently an automatic response to combat.
Dagger man started forward but hesitated. “What was that?”
He didn’t pause long enough for Harry to respond.
“You’re a tricky bastard, aren’t ya?” He grinned, shaking it off as he moved to close the distance.
In what seemed like slow motion, Harry watched as the dagger came up in an underhand thrust and drove into his gut, just below his navel. The man’s other hand landed on his shoulder, holding him in place.
Another message popped up and slid aside.
Harry grunted at the impact. He and dagger man stood inches apart, staring eye to eye. With a sneer, the man shifted his stance, gave Harry’s shoulder a friendly squeeze, angled the dagger, and drove it in deeper.
He stabbed me! It hurt… but not like he expected. More distant. Something he could think about later when he had more time.
He thought maybe he should panic but it didn’t come. A corner of his mind noticed that the meters in the corner of his vision had changed.
H: 68 | V: 53 | TM: 47%
Harry stared down at the dagger lodged in his gut. The man stared too. Blood oozed out, thick and slow.
:: System: Use skill [Frenzy]? (Y/N)
Dizziness washed over him as his pulse raced and breathing sped up. He felt a growing need to accept his rage and hunger. To free them.
The world sharpened. Every heartbeat in the alley hammered in his ears. Fast, terrified, delicious. The stink of sweat and fear-soaked leather flooded his nose. His mouth flooded with saliva, and when he opened it to snarl, something in his jaw clicked and extended.
He looked up and a smile came to his lips. An echo of a voice fluttered through his mind, some idiot swearing he’d never bite anyone. Never kill.
Inches away, the man’s face twisted in horror.
:: System: Use skill [Frenzy]? (Y/N)
“Frenzy?” His vision narrowed. He could count the beads of sweat slowly running down the man’s face, watch his eyes dilate.
He was wrong, he didn’t need to release his hunger. He wanted to. More than anything he had ever wanted in his life.
:: System: Use skill [Frenzy]? (Y/N)
“Yes.”
Power slammed through him. His muscles swelled and coiled, tendons pulled wire-tight. His spine arched. Fingers curled into claws. The careful, measured man he'd been for eighty-six years shattered like glass, and what remained was simple. Hunger and strength and the electric thrill of the hunt. His body moved before thought could catch up. Fast. Savage. Free.
One clawed hand grabbed the meat that held the dagger and yanked. Behind, threat. His other arm swept back, connected. Something crunched and flew, followed by a satisfying crash as it hit the far wall.
The silly prey was trying to run. He yanked him closer. The movement tore at his gut as pain flared where the dagger was buried deep, but it only stoked the roaring fire.
Harry leaned in. The man screamed once before the sound cut off. His fangs pressed against the skin of his throat, met resistance, and slid through. It was inescapably sensual, almost erotic. A burst of warmth answered him. The smell of iron filled his nose, sharp and sweet. Hot blood filled his mouth, thick and alive. The taste hit like lightning, burning through every nerve. He drank. Deep. The world narrowed to pulse and heat and the rhythm of swallowing.
The man’s legs kicked. His boots scraped the stone. His hands struck Harry’s shoulders, weak blows that lost strength with each heartbeat. A few seconds more and the fight was gone. His arms stayed there, hanging, then wrapped around Harry’s back, not pushing now, only holding.
Harry kept drinking until the prey was empty, worthless. He let go and it dropped at his feet. He looked to the sky and a sound tore from his throat, half roar, half cry, the wild joy of the hunt made flesh.
Harry turned, crouched and ready. His eyes locked on the body lying crumpled against the stone wall, alive but not a threat. Less than a threat. His senses told him he had control of that prey. It would wait.
He spun again, searching for the other.
There, huddled against the fence. Should have run. He stalked toward her, slow and certain. No rush. He was full. Not satiated. Never satiated. But full.
He stepped closer.
***
This story is free to read on RoyalRoad.com
If you are reading this on another site it is a pirated copy. If you enjoy the story please read it on RoyalRoad.
You can find the official updated story here:
Rate on the Fiction Page ?