"Awaken." The command shook Michael's body into responding. His eyes shot open and confusion jumbled his thoughts for a split second. What he saw before him made his heart skip a beat.
The lead vampire who had burned Kid'ka loomed close to his face. Being near like this, the features of the vampire's face were horrifyingly clear. His skin was leathery, with deep wrinkles etching themselves into the taut pale skin. Piercing crimson eyes stared out from the skull's caverns right through Michael's soul, sending a shudder down his spine. Telegad's white fanged teeth were oddly symmetrical, contrasting with the thing's ugly face. The bright red gum line above these gleaming teeth were also revealed when the vampire's lips retracted in a terrifying snarl.
Michael instinctively jerked away, but it was a fruitless effort. Whatever magic these monsters held, it was too much for him to physically fight against. That sure as hell didn't stop him from trying though. He gave a shout mixed with anger and terror, muscles straining in vain against the invisible force.
"Interruption or not, I will still drink of your Outworlder blood." The vampire hissed quietly. "You may be strong enough to endure the transformation."
"Transformation?" His heart crashed into his throat. "I ain't turning into one of you, ya ugly freak!"
"Brother…?" Lagoma asked, one long gnarled finger drumming his steel armrest, "You would bestow our gift upon an outsider so impulsively? You should simply taste of him, granting him eternal life is out of the question."
"I must agree with Prince Lagoma." Megad nodded, "Vampirism is a reward for the most diligent and ambitious of dwarves, those who seek to serve us loyally for eternity… he is neither a dwarf, nor loyal." He pointed out, his own fingers beginning to drum on his armrest, "I implore you brother, you must re-consider this course of action."
"I have my reasons, dear brothers." Telegad assured, his snarl turning to a smirk for an instant, "I will explain after this is resolved."
"Forget it!" Michael shouted before spitting in Telegad's face.
"Obedience will suit you," Telegad replied, wiping the spit off his face before he suddenly lunged forward.
Pain shot up Michael's neck. A violent scream ripped from his lungs. His body tried to writhe, tried to escape, but once more nothing happened. His eyes darted wildly around for help. Hope died as he saw that everyone in the squad had collapsed… staying motionless on the floor. Not even Hoplite could interfere, being carted away like a heap of junk, unable to do as much as twitch a finger. No one could help. No one…
Despair choked Michael's throat. Pain scrambled the rest of his thinking into struggling again.
Finally, the vampire lord released his bite. The shriveled corpse-like being smirked and wiped at his mouth.
"It tastes smoky, this one enjoys tobacco, a flavor I normally despise… yet this unique flavor is only complimented by it." He said as Michael convulsed, his skin having gone cold, "This crimson is truly unlike any other blood I have tasted, not like local humans for certain. The woman will be left unchanged, I wish to share this blood with you, my brothers. The woman can be sampled over time, we cannot drain her of everything she has, lest she perish."
"I am more interested in questioning her." Megad said, "Though the thought is tantalizing, the sampling can wait until after I learn what I want to know, I need her mind sharp."
"I too have questions." Lagoma said, "I will be patient, as brother Megad said."
"Very well." Telegad nodded.
The invisible hold lowered Michael back to the ground, to where the rest of his companions were. His neck pulsed with pain, and he swore he felt some blood dripping down from the bite, flowing down into the grate below him.The new wound and its implications couldn't be allowed to solidify in his mind. He closed his eyes and wished fervently that this had to be some sort of dream.
"Guards," Telegad said, "strip our prisoners and place them in high risk containment cells. Do not forget the cuffs and dig up our Sanctioning Bands to determine which of them bear the Pillar Gods' parentage. Fanged Guard Thalmar, you will be tasked in monitoring our Outworlder ally." One of the longer-bearded dwarves saluted and focused a red-eyed stare at Michael.
Michael watched the proceedings without feeling part of them. Everyone was slowly loaded up into stretchers and carts and moved two at a time. Cat and Kid'ka were taken first. The marine couldn't help but feel a sudden spark of kinship for the Godling. He'd risked exposing a secret that made a normal citizen of this planet flip out in fear and disgust to help him of all people. Why?
Next Lance and Twindil were carted away, then Alastair and Elum, then Theopalu and himself. He gritted his teeth as he stared at the ancient elf that was supposed to have taken them the safe way through Akan Var. Thanks to him, they were all trapped and at these dwarf vampire maniacs' mercy. They should have turned back sooner or found a way out of the tunnels. Something! Why didn't Theopalu do anything if he was so used to fighting vampires?
His throat clenched as his mind danced around his wound again. If they hadn't listened to Theopalu, then he wouldn't have been bitten. If he, Lance, Cat, and Hoplite hadn't joined these crazy guys on their route through the Fiendwood, then this wouldn't have happened. He shut his eyes as blurring tears crept through his eyelids.
Michael retreated deep into his thoughts as the jailer dwarves obeyed their orders to strip and cuff him. A ragged loincloth two sizes too small was left to cover his hips. Green handcuffs that seemed to eternally radiate a chill fastened his hands in front of his body. Once the restraints were secured, he found that his body could move again. However, the freedom was cut short as he was promptly thrown into a tiny cell.
He had but a moment to glance around the stone walls and solitary bucket in one corner before the thick steel door was shut. All light vanished.
Darkness choked him. Another scream roared from him. He threw himself against the door and bounced off with a fresh bruise. Pain didn't stop him. He tried again and again to scramble against the steel barrier. The smell of rotting corpses crept into his nostrils, causing him to momentarily forget his blood loss. He slammed against the metal door again, and again, desperately screaming as he was left alone…
In the dark.
Eternity passed, his screaming having left his throat raw with pain. Still he panicked, though his shouts were more suppressed. He simply didn't have the energy to fight against the steel door any longer, the blood loss finally having caught up with him. Instead, he opted to curl up on the ground, ignoring the horrid smell of his rotting comrades. It had been three days since the pod crashed on the planet, surely someone was coming to save him, to get him out of here? The emergency signal was still going, right?
He coughed and sputtered as his throat finally failed to let out another scream, and instead, only a silent cry escaped his mouth, hot tears flowing down his face. His back and throat ached, and the bite wounds- bite wounds? Where had he gotten them? His brain was a fog, and he even found himself struggling to recall his name.
More time passed, how much he couldn't tell. It could have been minutes, hours, years… it didn't matter, he just wanted the light back… to see the sun- He winced at thinking of it, the thought of sunshine, for whatever reason, made him uncomfortable. His teeth hurt too, particularly his canines. After some more time, he felt an unbearable pulsating pain in those teeth, a pain that became so horrid that he opted to rip them out with his bare hands.
The pain only barely subsided as something forced its way through the gum line where the teeth he'd ripped out had been. His hands clutched his jaw at the agony, and once it ceased… he felt two hard, pointed things where his canines had been. Had he not actually ripped out his own teeth? No… these new ones were far longer than normal. When would someone come for him? He was actively mutating in the pod, if they took too long… he'd be unrecognizable by time they found him.
He crawled through a puddle of his own sweat around the ground of the pod, trying to reach the cockpit. Michael needed to ensure that the signal was still going- He winced again, curling in on himself as every inch of his skin exploded with tearing agony. It was like a thousand microscopic shards of glass had been inserted into every individual pore he had. Something seemed to be leaking from each pore, though it wasn't sweat… it was too thick, and smelled of copper. He bled from thousands of cuts, and it pooled around him, his skin seeming to freeze over as finally the last drop of it left him. Michael coughed again, the smell of rot disappearing only to be replaced with copper. The blood around him smelled… it smelled good.
It made his mouth nearly water to think about slurping it up off the cold ground. He shook his head, what was he doing!? The darkness continued to press in around him, but with the smell of rot overwhelmed by copper, he willed himself to open his eyes. Only to see clearly what surrounded him. He stood shakily from the ground, blinking in shock as he could perfectly see everything. Was there a light on? No… everything was colorless, was he wearing night vision goggles? His hand went to his face, confused as he felt only his eyelids. How had he gotten here?
His head pounded, and a shaky hand went to his brow as he strained to remember. He'd crashed planetside, he remembered that much. Foggy details replayed themselves, a dark-haired woman scolding a towering man clad in black and red armor, a night spent with a gorgeous blonde haired woman with pointed ears, a long journey across a big bridge… to now. How had he ended up in this cell? Michael blinked, confused as he sat back down, drawing his knees to his chin as he continued to think.
How had he gotten here? Why was everything so cold? There was blood everywhere on the ground surrounding him, every drop that had been in his body… so why was he alive? Mich- Mi-
He shook his head, features firming as he said, "Michael." To himself, his voice hoarse, "I'm a marine… A marine…"
That was right… he was a Ternan marine of the Eighth Arm. He crashed on this planet after Earth fell, with Hoplite Thirty-Seven having found him. Michael struggled to remember further details, but the fog in his head made it a struggle. He was so damn tired, and his head ached something fierce. If he just had some water, he might be able to stave of the pain a bit… he felt thirsty. Yet, the thought of water didn't seem tantalizing, instead he found himself staring at the blood on the ground, his blood. He could see no color in this room, yet he knew that the pool beneath him was an appetizing crimson hue, the scent of copper flooding his nose and making his fangs ache.
Slowly, he lowered his face to the stone floor, taking in the scent before he leaned in to lap up the fluid. Michael, upon realizing what he was about to do, recoiled from the blood in disgust. Not at the blood… at himself. Had he really been about to do that? Before he could answer this question, he coughed violently, falling onto his side in a puddle of his own blood, the darkness returning to claim him.