Asher woke and abruptly sat up, a groundbreaking event was taking place right now.
His head feels dizzy and his vision blurs as though he had been concussed; His frail body goes limp and he drops back down onto his bed.
'Curse my low blood pressure, it seems I sat up too quickly and fainted…' Asher thinks to himself, after regaining consciousness.
More importantly, he can hear unrecognisable voices murmur and cackle, the sound echoing and reverberating down the hallway from the lounge.
Asher gets up and dressed, then makes his way down the hallway to the lounge. He is hungry for some breakfast and most certainly curious about his fathers guests…
Not once had his Father had guests over, this is a first!
Asher's Father had never let him leave the house except for exercise, he was even home schooled. Asher never knew the real reason as to why this was the case… Only that his Father was a massive wuss and that he would be trapped in the middle of nowhere on this stupid farm until his Father died.
After that he would be free, but by then it would be too late. Asher's dream is to grow up the normal way: To go to school, fall in love during highschool, become popular and get a job in the city. He would then live in a fancy flat in a tall skyscraper with a picturesque view. Asher craves the things he doesn't have, he wants a more desirable status quo. The same way many wish to live in a different world, or be transported into their favourite video game, anime, TV show or even just move to another country.
Having reached the doorway to the lounge and combined kitchen: Asher peeks around the door frame keeping his presence hidden. He excitedly observes the room and his fathers guests.
A sharp sterile smell crawls its way deep into his lungs, reflexively his body exerts a deranged and lurching shiver. To his right the kitchen is enveloped in an unsightly, scarlet gore.
An unrecognisable soup of remains… More insides are visible than outsides, the clothes of whoever that is lay on the ground as no more than a torn, improvised tarpaulin.
Such a sight would make anyone's skin crawl, Asher himself is tranquilised with fear and has lost all sense of clarity in his mind. A rush of adrenaline renders him unable to think, let alone calm himself down.
Rubbing beads of sweat off of his forehead Asher stares blankly at his fathers guests.
A middle aged man, iced with rough brown hair and an also rough thin beard, with his relatively muscular build this makes him look like a very stocky mop. He is accompanied by two others. Asher to no surprise, has never seen these people before in his life, nor does he recognise them from his studies or from TV. Where is his dad?
The middle-aged mophead's acquaintances are both teenagers. One is a tall, fit and of lanky posture teenage boy. He has dirty, soggy blonde hair. This lanky teenage boy is significantly taller than Asher.
The second acquaintance is a teenage girl who is roughy the same height as Asher. She has dark circles under her eyes, other than that her face is pure and free of acne. The circles do not look bad, if anything they are a suitable characteristic for her look: As her hair is pitch black, long and uniform. It's dyed dark purple at the frizzy ends and sits tight to her slim frame.
Her pale yet sharp face distracts Asher from the fear-enticing gore in the kitchen. Her dark purple eyes are glued to the award worthy gore, she's drooling, and manages to make it look cute.
Each of these strange figures wear dark black medieval armour, three helmets to suit their armour sit on the counter top that is between the kitchen and lounge.
Creak
Asher leaned too heavily on a floorboard, and with this his presence is now revealed.
"Heheeeheee" The lanky one screeches, his arms splayed out to reveal claw-like melee weapons.
The dark haired girl and the middle aged man who has mop-like hair, turn to face Asher, looking down at him with solemn eyes.
Dale, the man with hair like a mop, grabs the lanky one by the scruff of his neck. "Jack shut the fuck up, you're driving me up the wall… You are barely worth your blood so know your place!" With his free hand Dale repeatedly beats Jack on the back of the skull until Jack's body goes limp.
Thump, Dale drops Jack's limp body to the floor.
'The crazy bastard hit him with no remorse,' Asher thought to himself.
Dale stares not at Jack but instead at the mangled corpse on the kitchen floor. He then turns his head to Asher, wearing a cruel and crooked smile. "I wonder if his kid can fight…"
'His kid…' Asher looks to the kitchen, the unsightly gore urges him to barf. 'Dad?'
"Hey kid, I'll give you a chance to live… If you can prove you're worth more than my student, you can take his place." Dale says to Asher.
But Asher is unaware and did not hear. For the shock of his fathers death has sent him into a daze.
"All you have to do is beat my student in a fight to the death… And successfully inherit the vampire mutation."
Without looking away from the gore in the kitchen Chloe mumbles "Do you think his body can actually handle it?"
"His father's legacy is proof enough that he should be more compatible than even Jack with vampire blood."
With a polite waking slap he woke Asher from his daze… Dale offered him the freedom he had longed for, but at a price. He explained the information Asher had missed whilst his mind was elsewhere.
Asher did not understand what Dale meant by 'vampire mutation' for he did not believe such supernatural things existed. Nevertheless, in order to keep his life and achieve his goals he figured he must endure this freak circumstance and earn his freedom. Thus he also pushed aside his bereavement towards his father. The goal of attending high school burns profusely in Asher's heart.
'So he is in my way, huh…' Asher looks at Jack from across the room. He is unsure on his chances of winning, for his opponent clearly knows how to fight and is wearing a full suit of medieval style armour.
The trio's attire seems unusual to Asher, for he had not heard of such things in the outside world. He assumes his situation to be the result of an evil syndicate or some rogue dark web enthusiasts. Wishing only to survive and "grow up normally" Asher figures he just has to put his head down and push through. He has gotten a taste of the freedom his father never gave him and will pursue it wholeheartedly…
Asher had always thought his father to be a crazy old man, for he held his son captive and claimed it to be for his and Asher's safety… Though, it never seemed that way, he thought his dad was just batshit crazy.
However, a new sneaking suspicion tells Asher that his father may not have been as off his rails as he had thought… 'Father who had you angered so severely that they would hunt you down and blatantly murder you in your own home?'
"What is your name, young boy?" Dale asks.
Asher reels back a bit. 'Is he trying to make a connection? What does he want? Why would he bother with such formalities after just murdering my dad?'
"You first…" Asher replies.
A puzzled expression appears on Dale's face, he doesn't answer Asher's question. Instead, he becomes deep in thought.
'You broke into my house and killed my dad, stop playing nice… Lunatic.' Of course Asher did not express his animosity aloud, for he knew that a fifteen-year-old runt like him could never keep his head if he were to offend Dale. Especially considering how easily Dale had flipped out at Jack.
'This is a fever dream and a half.' Asher thinks to himself.
"His name is Dale." A delicate female voice resounded throughout the living room and combined kitchen, it was the dark haired girl, Chloe, who replied. Still crouched down next to his fathers mangled corpse, clutching her kness, Chloe looks up at Asher. "And you are?"
"Name's Asher."
Dale gives Asher a dark look, he tiredly opens up an oversized rectangular briefcase on the kitchen counter. Behind him on the floor, Jack has stopped spasming and is slowly sitting up, for he has regained consciousness. Chloe finds great interest in the contents of Dale's briefcase and abandons the gore in the kitchen.
"Make your pick Ash" Dale waves to the contents of the oversized briefcase…
Inside lies a large array of bladed weapons: Different types of swords and knives. Each with different blades, masses and centres of gravity. All of the blades are of the same shining cirrus grey colour.
Knowing crap-all about melee weapons Asher chooses what he thinks to be the most flexible option at close range: A short sword with a very thin blade, it has a round guard that is different to that of all the other blades. The blade comes with a light blue scabbard that has alloy embroidery.
Asher takes up his new weapon, his disturbed gaze shifts from the lightweight one-handed short-sword to Jack. Who is chuckling to himself, staring at the ceiling with a crazed and almost rabid expression.
Following along with some cruel intrusive thoughts, Dale announces "ThreeTwoOne Fight!!" As quickly as possible.
Jack's magnificent medieval armour turns to a blur, he reacts instantly. Lunging towards the off guard Asher at an immense speed. In less than a quarter of a second he closed the four meters between himself and Asher.
Jack rains down combinations of punches upon Asher's body. Jack carefully avoids hitting his opponent in the head, for he is sowing the seeds of his trap.
Despite considering himself an extremely mobile person and being confident in his reaction speed, Asher is unable to return-fire. He covers his head and lowers his stance like an 'infighting' boxer, his unsheathed short sword gripped uselessly in his right hand. Asher endures the torment of punches, his ribcage coming alive with sharp, burning pains and twangs.
Asher waits and waits for a moment to escape, for a split second in which Jack's ferocious attacks let up.
The moment comes! Asher steps back so that his weapon has the range advantage over Jack's fists. Asher unleashes a flurry of amateurish slashes with no real aim or vital target, only aimed loosely at his opponent's body and limbs.
Jack stands still, his feet planted. Much to Asher's surprise, Jack does not dodge or fall back. He only blocks Asher's wild slashes with his alloy, vambrace-like wrist guards, a savage impatience glinting in his eyes.
Their attacks and defense flowed perfectly to counter each other, however one's movements were being dictated by the other.
Becoming overwhelmed by impatience the deviant vampire wastes no more time, he produces a gap in Asher's footwork and reactions. With no visual indication or delay Jack puts himself on the frontfoot, instantly appearing behind Asher, he sends another punch. Only this time it is a stab hidden behind the familiar motion of a left hook.
At this time Asher loses his balance and falls backwards, thus Jack's attack misses, swinging profusely over Asher's falling body. Unaware of the lightspeed-like ability Jack had used on him, Asher is lucky to be alive. Asher soon finds himself on the floor and resultantly extremely vulnerable.
The two of them make desperate movements at each other simultaneously, in order to make the most of this unprecedented situation.
Asher takes defensive action by starting to sit up whilst flailing the point of his sword towards Jack. Asher hopes to force his opponent to keep their distance so that they cannot safely monopolise his vulnerable position.
At almost the same time (for he reacted a little slower than Asher) Jack aims another stab using his compact claw-like melee weapons and applies his lightspeed-like power. Without any tell, visual indication or delay, his attack is already followed through.
Two heavy thuds later Jack is frozen in place above Asher, they are piled in a heap on the ground. Jack's hand is pierced through the right side of Asher's neck. The first-rate vigour of his strike compelled Asher's blood to splatter on the ground beneath the two of them.
In fear, Asher closes his eyes having found himself on the ground mounted by Jack.
He lets go of his short-sword and drops his arms to the ground, his back and the underside of his head and arms become wet, his clothes soak up a viscous liquid.
'Ah, he's going to maul me.' Asher sobs internally. Asher doesn't realise it but he is in shock, thus he has no idea that Jack has delivered him a fatal blow.
Tens of seconds pass, eventually, Asher hears Blood gushing and splattering onto the ground beside him at typical intervals. His neck feels hot. Blisteringly so, as though he is being melted from the inside.
Chloe's jaw drops, her mouth hangs open and her eyes are wide. For she did not expect this outcome. Dale's face is as spiteful and unreadable as usual.
'Why can't I feel him hitting me?' Slowly, Asher opens his eyes.
He looks at Jack, who is motionless and frozen on top of him… Jack's armour glows a molten orange colour, his undergarments have been disintegrated, revealing Jack's skin in the gaps of his armour. Steam rises from the pinprick like pores in Jack's skin.
'What the fuck?!' Asher thinks to himself. Asher's clothes are slowly turning to ash from the heat Jack radiates, Ashers skin burns.
Asher is surprised and extremely unsettled for two reasons…
Firstly Jack's skin is both steaming and translucent, not to reveal his insides but instead revealing a hot, molten light that is slowly dimming, trapped within Jack's epidermis. The steam stinks, it simultaneously smells of both burning flesh and burning plastic.
Secondly, the thin blade of Asher's short-sword is lodged through a slit in the visor of Jack's helmet. Jack must have fallen on it when he attacked and mounted Asher. Jack would have been killed instantly. The blade has gone right through his skull and therefore through his brain, the blade has even dented Jack's helmet on the opposite side of his head from the inside where it had exited his skull.
Yet Asher saw only a small trickle of blood coming out of the helmet. So why can he hear the sound of spurting, gushing blood?
More of Asher's senses come back, he feels wet and heavy… An unbearable, searing pain returns to his body. Asher resultantly tries to cry out in pain, however only gurgling bubbles escape from the wound in his neck.
He sees that Jack's arm leads down towards his neck. Asher sees an expanding pool of blood in his peripheral vision. "Oh…"
Asher is silent for a minute, and then…
He pushes against all sense of pain and turns his head, he gazes blankly in Dale's direction, his eyes glazed over, as he can no longer see. "Fuck you and your sick games, Dale... IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT YOU CRUEL BASTARD!!!"
Asher blindly searches for Jack's hand. With a tug he yanks it out of his own neck, wishing to die and rid the pain quicker.
As his consciousness fades he hears Dale's voice say "You did well, you've got a lot to learn about the world you are about to enter, Asher. Expect a long and confusing talk from me when you wake up…"
'When I wake up? The idea of me surviving seems illogical, I've been bleeding out for nearly two minutes, I'm sure I've lost more blood than I can humanly recover from. I am already losing consciousness from lack of blood to my brain. Then all brain function will cease and I will die. I am finished. I've only got a couple minutes left.' Asher thinks to himself. He has given up on living, his goals and dreams no longer mean anything now that he is fated to die.
Eventually, Asher's expression changes, he has lost consciousness.
Dale looks at his student, Jack, who is rigidly sprawled out on top of Asher with a cirrus grey rapier stabbed through his head. Small beads of blood trickle out from the visor of Jack's helmet and also down the thin blade of the rapier.
This was probably the worst outcome from this fight, one is dead and thus completely unsavable. The other is unconscious and on his way out.
"Chloe come help me with the blood transfusion, we can save Asher at least." Says Dale.
"Yes Sir." she responds politely
Chloe has been Dale's student for only three months now, during this time Dale has not once seen her panic or become disturbed. She has this natural ability to stay calm and keep a cool head.
So now, as the two of them funnel Jack's blood into the stab wound in Asher's neck, Chloe is as aloof and indifferent as always.
***
[One week later]
Dale is very tired, his sluggish driving is starting to worry him. He is on his way to Asher's house to check in on Chloe, having just been to the nearest CM Outlet to do some paperwork.
Dale thinks Chloe should be fine, she lives independently using The Academy's dorm system. So she knows how to take care of herself. She should be more than capable of managing the IEV machine that is feeding Asher.
Since the fight Asher has been comatose as a result of the transmutation process happening to his body. For he received a blood transfusion from Jack, regardless of his blood type the vampire mutation will rapidly infect Asher's own blood and then begin to make changes to his body according to the "coding" or DNA of the mutation.
If the blood is "noble" i.e a more powerful version of the mutation. The patient is said to undergo severe muscle pain, tendon pain, ligament pain, and continuous nerve spasms. But the organism has stronger or more powerful versions of the traits within the mutation.
It is a general rule that mutations such as the vampire, ghoul and dragon mutations, are the most powerful and also have the least "drawback" genetic traits. Thus they are safer to absorb. There are four other mutations as powerful as the three just mentioned, however they come with drawback traits that are a bit too dangerous or inconvenient for the user. These types tend to be less common in the Hidden Society.
A noble transmutation is apparently very disturbing to watch, luckily, Dale has never seen it himself. He shouldn't have to worry about Asher having such a reaction, despite his fathers legacy. For according to the top Guild officials the most supported theory is that you can only have a noble reaction if you receive the vampire mutation from a noble. And Jack was most certainly not a noble, he was far too weak.
Had Jack been a noble, Dale physically would not have been capable of containing him. For Dale was of common blood himself.
Brrrr brrrr brrrr
Dale's phone is ringing.
'Who could be calling at this hour? It's the middle of the night.' Dale wonders. The clock in his truck reads 12:03 AM.
"Good morning, Dale speaking" Dale can hear thrashing and thumping on the other end of the phone call.
"Sir, Chloe here! It's Ash… He's…" Chloe sobs into the phone.
'She's panicked and in tears, am I hearing things?!' Dale thinks to himself. 'Literally nothing has rattled this girl before... What on earth is going on over there?!!'
"It's his transmutation, he's having a noble reaction!"
"He's fucking what?! Hold down the fort, I'm almost there." Dale is shocked, this doesn't make sense, this goes against all of the theory he's been taught.
What does this mean? Are nobles not determined by the blood they receive but instead their own? Or is there some other biological factor that he is missing? Could it be maternal or paternal inheritance? Heck is it even genetic?
"Ahh, this crap is witchcraft! The Guild is gonna have a heart attack when they hear about this."