Of the eleven vials, only three contained any Red Aura. Which, assuming that they all had feen full at one point, meant that eight of those 'doses' had been used up.

  Kurt looked at Buck who, after brutalizing the alchemist's corpse into a pile of bone and dust, had calmed down and laid himself to rest, and his gaze centered on his blood red fur. And, as he did so, his mind began puzzling the whole situation together.

  "Buck became a direbeast here," he said, drawing the attention of the other five humans in the room. "He and his pack... that corpse in the other room must have been the guy that made them that way. He must have been trying to secure himself some really high quality feed for when he became a vampire, but something happened, and he died before he could reap the spoils of his work." He turned slowly to the table at the center of the room. "He must have been done in by whoever the vampire was. Which leaves two questions: Just who the hell was that actually took the Vampire's Drought? And what happened to Buck's pack?" He left the two interrogants fall on the room before he continued. "And I think that the only way to answer any of those remaining questions is pretty clear, especially since is the thing we came here to do in the first place."

  "You are going to hunt that thing down," Alfred said, sounding almost like he was asking. "But...you mean like... right now? Just like that?"

  Kurt nodded. "It's best to do it as soon as we can. Can't elt night fall on us. At least if we attack that thing's mine-lair now, it will be trapped inside the mine. Less chances of it escaping. Plus, it's not like we gain anything from sitting here and speculating. We're about as prepared as we can be."

  "Kurt is right," said Conrad. "You can rest easy though. We are not leavving you guys here alone. I think that we can probably split in two groups: one goes down there and takes care of the problem, while the other escorts you three back to your van before joining the first group. That way, even if we can't kill the thing or whatever, we have a safe way out of this place."

  Mila hummed in agreement. "That sounds like a plan alright. Since we have four combat capable members, then maybe we should split at the middle. Something like Kurt and Buck go hunt the vampire while the two of us do the van thing." She stopped for a moment, then grimmaced at Kurt. "Sorry for volunteering you for that, Kurt. It's just that my powers ain't exactly going to work very well down there and..."

  "No,no. I get it," Kurt reassured her. "A mine shaft is apretty narrow space where dodging may not be an option, so it's just natural to send in the two toughest guys we have. Plus, I don't think Buck will react well at having to miss the chance to rescue his pack." He smiled at her warmly. "Everyone plays to their strengths that way. That's some good thinking on your part."

  "Ahh, excuse me," called Maxell. "Sorry to interrupt this strategic jump session you guys are having, but I have to ask: if you are going to atatck that vampire-thing at the same time we go for the van, and we are doing all this in the middle of the day, than just why do we need to be escorted? I mean, I know we are squishy muggles compared to the four of you and all, but we can at least walk that distance by ourselves."

  "We know that," Mila said politely. "But the vampire isn't the only danger to keep track of. We have reasons to believe it might have a small entourage of thralls, a type of undead that vampires can create."

  "At least one of Buck's children was turned," Conrad continued. "An we have reasons to believe, based on these vials, that there might be upwards of six more of those wolf-thralls around, assuming the vampire got the entire pack. And thralls, unlike their vampiric masters, aren't affected by sunlight."

  "Oh," Maxell hummed as he tok a passing glance at Buck's lying form, clearly picturing what facing six undead versions of that must be. "Yeah, I think I agree with the escort quest. But why not take care of the thralls and then go for the vampire? If there are a bunch of those things around, then the vampire could call them or something while you are in the mines and get you surrounded just like that. So why not get rid of any that might be lurking around and then go in?"

  Kurt pondered for a moment, and then answered. "First of all, well thought. That's some impressive strategic thinking you can do. But your idea probably would hinder us more than anything. You see, vampires have a connection with the undead they spawn, and they can fill it when they die. If we go around killing thralls one after another, then that thing is gonna be alerted and prepare for us, taking away any element of surprise we might have. Plus, if we don't know how many thralls might be lurking around, where they are, or even if there are any, then we are going to spend far too much trying to clear the town. Which is a time during which that thing could get hungry, or even for the sun to set on us."

  "Plus, the risk of the vampire summoning any thralls is rather low," Conrad added. "A juvenile like that would take sometime to develop such control over the more spiritual aspects of its powers. He might be able to create thralls, but I doubt it can controle them beyond pointing them at the nearest living thing with the 'Kill' command."

  "So we are gonna stick with the Split-Up-Gang plan," Kurt continued. "You guys ready yourselves for the walk, and we will do the same. We'll go as soon as we're all prepared, okay?"

  He received a series of agreeing murmurs as a response, and the group dissolved as every one of them began making their way down the stairs , clearly wanting to make their preparation in a less creepy part of the manor. Kurt and Alfred where the only ones not to follow besides Buck, who seemed to have fallen in some kind of depressive funk after his cathartic body-desecration session.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Kurt was leaning against the center-room table, and while he was lost in thought, Alfred came to his side and leaned on it as well, as though imitating Kurt. This shook the younger male out his stupor, but he didn't say anything about the action. What was he gonna do? Question Alfred about why he dared to stand besides him?

  So, the silence was broken by the college student, and with just about the most shocking sentence he could have said.

  "I want to be on the first team. The one going down into the mine."

  Kurt tensed, his eyes widening, but he managed to swallow any exclamation that he could have uttered. Instead, he asked, in the most even manner he could, "And, why do you want that?"

  "Amelia," the Alfredd said simply, his answer just about what Kurt had expected. "I want to help rescue her. Or..." He rolled his jwa slowly, and he seemed to blink away tears. "Or atleast retrieve her body. But I want to do something that's not getting into my van while a little girl holds my hand."

  "That little girl can make any form of plant matter do her bidding with a thought. And sent steel with her grip. And she has already fought against supernatural horrors that put that vampire to shame while keeping her head cool." He half-turned to look at Alfred. "And we are still sending her on Team 2. Connect the dots, man."

  "I'm useless, it's what you're saying," Alfred said, without a hint of offense showing in his voice. He talked in a matter-of-fact manner instead. "I understand that, and accept it, but there still has to be a role for me to play on Team 1. I...I can walk a few steps ahead of you and the wolf, so nothing ambushes you. Or try and distract any thralls it has in there so you don't have to worry about fightning them and the vampire at the same time. Or I could..."

  "Or you could what?" Kurt demanded, walking away from the table and planting his feet right in fron of Alfred's, facing him. "You could what? Kill yourself? Slash your neck with Alexis's knife and use the blood to bait the vampire? Or some other plan that costs us your life in exchange for an infinitesimal advantage?"

  "Any of them is good. Your choice."

  "My choice is for you to go with your friends and to get into the fucking van, you numbnuts!" Kurt felt his temples rattle, and he realized he was screaming. "Don't you get that we are here so you don't have to pull that kind of shit?! Or dou you think I want to see another person dying to a thing I could kill without trouble just 'cause I slacked o-?!"

  He stopped himself, just realizing what he has just said.

  "Shit, you've seen that happen?" Alfred asked, and Kurt didn't miss the clear horror in his tone. The first expression of emotion his voice had delated in the entire conversation.

  Kurt grunted, looking away and covering one of his eyes with a hand. Silently, he returned to his original leaning position at Alfred's side, and leaned even further back to look at the ceiling.

  "Her name was Audrey Matthers. She was a cashier somewhere in Tenesse or Kentucky or some state around there. I was buying some supplies for the trip right before she closed. She talked to me about a bunch of dissapearances around town, offered me a ride so I'd be safe, which I declined, and that was it. Five minutes later I found her in the alleway behind her store, mortally wounded by the monster behind those dissapearances."

  "Holy Christ," Alfred gasped, his voice quivering. "I-I'm sorry, man. I didn't know that-wait. You...were getting supplies 'for the trip'? When did this happen?"

  "About five days ago. That same night, Conrad and Mila, but especially Conrad, nearly got killed by a warlock's lightning spell, I killed that warlock in self defence with the sword at my hip, and Mila and I got ourselves in an absurd sidequest for a way of healing Conrad's wounds, during which the both of us very, very nearly got killed. We only came alive and with the artifact we wanted because of its guardian's compassionate heart."

  "Oh my God," Alfred whispered, and now he did sound like he would break into sobs. "I can't do shit in this world. Warlocks. Vampires. I just can't deal with those stakes. Even if I put my life on the line, it wouldn't mean shit." He lurched forward as if hit in the stomach, and made a seezing sound from his mouth. Taking air through his molars to stiffle a sob, trying his damn hardest not to add 'crying pussy' to the list of his inadequacies.

  Kurt felt a terrible sense of deja vu seeing it.

  "I thought I was strong," he said, looking at the floor. "All my life, I was strong. And I tried to use that properly. To protect those I love. I was the kid that fended off bullies. When I was twelve, I beat the shit out of my father when he was beating on my mom for the hundreth time." This time, it was Alfred's turn to realizehe had said too much. He looked up at Kurt with something like fright.

  Kurt just looked him in the ye and nodded once, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  Alfred took a deep breath, and pulled himself back until he was leaning on the table again. Then, he continued speaking, albeit more calmly.

  "Amelia. She is the best thing in my life. I could always be sincere and vulnerable and...weak with her. She filled my life in that way romcoms always talk about but never, ever show. And all the stuff she added to my existance. I met my best friend 'cause he was her twin brother. I decided to go to college thanks to her support and encouragement."

  A pause. His eyes seemed to darken, to lose their fire.

  "All the stuff she did for me, and when pushed came to shove, when that thing grabbed her and began dragging her to that mine, what do I do? I try to tackle the bastard down, proceed to crash against him without so much as making him flinch, and then get bith slapped of my feet. And when that thing didn't pursue me, and kept dragging Amelia into the darkness as she screamed and begged and called for me? I felt relieved that I didn't have to face it."

  Slowly, he turned his head to look at Kurt.

  "I can't live on if I stay here and do nothing. Even if you guys flawlessly rescue her while I sit my ass on that van, it won't matter. Even if she is delighted when she sees me and comes to hug me and kiss me and tell me how much she loves me, it won't matter. If I don't do something, anything, for her, for her life, then that's it. That's the end of my life, because I just know that if I don't go in there, and put my neck on the line for her, something inside me will break, and I will feel like this forever. And when she sees me unhappy, and tries her damn hardest to help me through it, she'll just make it worse, 'cause she'll be doing nothing but remind me of how I failed her when she needed me the most."

  Kurt was speechless, paralyzed, and his body numb. It was an experience of supreme fright and tragedy, witnessing that rant. He felt like Dorian Gray, witnessing a portrait of all his pain and missery, all depicted so painfully clear that his eyes and brain had no option but to take it in.

  Only the pain he saw dwarfed his by an order of magnitude.

  When Kurt had felt incapable of measuring up to a world of magically talented, special people, and angsted about it, he had done it from his cozy room, under the roof he shared with a genuinely good and wise man and his (Kurt's) two sisters, and due to the persecution brought by absolutely nobody.

  Alfred had suffered in ways Kurt couldn't even begin to relate to. He had become strong, and used that strength for other people's sake's, a concept to which Kurt had only been distanly acquanticed with. And then he had had it all taken away. His strength? Made a joke of. The woman he loved? Taken, and maybe dead. He felt incapable of measuring up to a world of magically talented, special people, and for reasons much better than Kurt's.

  And Kurt, unlike him, had found a way to stack up to that world.

  A way he knew how to impart.

  He thought about it. And he thought. And thought some more, pondering on every way it could go wrong, the catastrofic sequence of events that could be unleashed by it. And how doing s would make him a little less unique and special.

  In the end, he simply looked at Alfred's eyes, and made up his mind. And, as he did so, he asked.

  "Maxell and Alexis, you think they're feeling like you do now?"

  Alfred nodded silently.

  "I see," Kurt said. He took his sword out its sheath, its silver blade gleaming in the air, and placed it on the table. "Then go call them. I got a big little secret I have to let you guys in."