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Ash watched the target closely as he went into the bar. She stood on the roof of the four-story office-building across the street, hidden in the dark of the night. She was dressed practically, in simple clothing – black jeans, a dark grey t-shirt, a leather jacket – her purple hair tied back behind her head. At her feet was a black biker’s helmet. At her right ear was a Bluetooth earpiece.
She needed neither binoculars nor night-vision to see clearly in the night; she was Damphyr, the child of one afflicted with vampirism. Beings without most of their progenitors’ strengths, but the few gifts they possess by comparison makes them far greater than humans. Durability, speed and enhanced senses are their hallmark, but the gifts come at a cost. The cost of human blood. A Damphyr can survive on the blood of animals for a time, but they are required to drink the blood of a living human with disturbing and increasing frequency.
For now, she needed only once a month or so. But as her years of life wore on into centuries she would need to feed weekly or even daily. She pondered this as she watched the bar.
“Ash!” buzzed her earpiece. Focusing back in to the present, she barked an answer to the microphone on her lapel. “What, Vesh?”
Vesh responded, “I can see you from here. Stop zoning out! We need you to watch the door. If the target is meeting one of the nine, we’ll need to be able to act at a moment’s notice. You’re our surveillance.”
“If you wanted surveillance, you should have gotten a van,” Ash cracked.
“Who needs a van when you have the sharpest eyes this side of the globe?”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Ash quipped, as she noticed something off with the bar. The sounds of violence were emanating from within, which would not have troubled her unduly were it not for the scent. Her sense of smell was arguably her weakest, but there are some scents she could never miss. The scent of blood, the scent of a damphyr, and, strongest of all, the scent of a vampire.
Vampires are rare creatures; few in number and rare to reproduce. They make up for it in unholy might; a single vampire could lay waste to a small city in a single night. But they tend to occupy their time with petty power struggles between each other and attempts to control large swathes of territory. Their servants, known as Revenants, were humans vested with some of their power. Weaker still than even damphyr, Revenants were slow to age and stronger than mortals.
But the scent of a vampire was what Ash smelled now. How she had missed it for so long was beyond her, but it was clear now. The smell was difficult to define – somewhere between a rotting corpse and a rose, soaked in blood. A smell of beautiful decay.
“Vesh, we need to move. Now.”
“Got it. I’ll get the back entrance. You cover the front.”
“Got it.”
Ash jumped from her perch, flipping from headfirst to a pencil dive and landing on the pavement, cracking it. She was unharmed by the tumble, she got up and charged the door as a man was thrown bodily from the window. Or rather, a corpse. Its head was twisted and nearly torn off, a look of agony on its face. Its limbs were twisted as if it had been tortured, but knowing what lay inside, she understood that it had happened within seconds.
She took a second to spit on the corpse. A fool who had been bargaining with a vampire for extended life. But the artifact that he had found was too powerful. His contact with it made him a liability, not an ally.
She charged the door, knocking it off of its hinges. Inside, an unwelcome sight greeted her. Revenants, a dozen of them, were feasting on the corpses of the erstwhile bar-goers. A couple were holding onto the bouncer by the arms, one drinking from his carotid and another on the opposite side, who had chewed through to his aorta.
They all looked up at her, with bestial glares. Damphyr blood was poison to them, but they were bound to their master’s will, and would be more than happy to kill her.
She reached into her coat and pulled out a long dagger – something caught between shortsword and knife in size, but finely wrought all the same, of some strange, silvery metal. She whispered the invocation. “Carnwennan, feoht for mec, innan thone ciegnes Arthorius.”
The blade sheathed itself in shadow, its magic enhancing her accuracy, speed and strength.
Moving faster than the creatures could even fathom, she had already drove the dagger through three of the creatures’ chests, piercing their hearts before they could even draw breath. “Eallgrene sealt adfyr.”
Green flame ripped its way through the creatures anew, burning their flesh and reducing them to ash faster than should have been physically faster. Continuing, she made quick work of the others, and had destroyed the bodies of those who had died. Little evidence remained, and the magical fire did not burn the objects in the room. She breathed, for the first time since entering the place. “You alright?” asked Vesh, through the earpiece.
“…Yes.”
“Good. Nothing on my end. I’ll meet up with you at the basement doors.”
They had gone through the blueprints for the building before the strike. There was a basement, prohibition era, that led down into the sewer. They had guessed the vampire would use this route to escape after putting down the ‘livestock’.
She went over to behind the bar, went into the backroom, and took the short hallway to the back room, where she Vesh was waiting.
Vesh wasn’t damphyr, nor was she human. She was a Nephilim, the long-lost bloodline of angels. Moreover, her bloodline was the (in)direct descent from King (well, queen, but that’s another story) Arthur. She wasn’t all that much stronger than a normal human, until the bloodline was used in conjunction with an Arthurian one. Ash’s weapon was one, the bloodline only enhancing the weapon’s traits, not granting ones on their own.
But Vesh was more powerful in her own way. For she wielded two weapons – Rhongomiant, an ancient spear, and Clarent, the coward’s blade. With their power, she could take down many opponents with little effort – but at a cost. The two could only be wielded in conjunction for a short time, or she would burn up.
Vesh was breathing heavily, her sword sheathed and her spear at her back. “You okay?” asked the (suitably) concerned Ash.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“There’s no shame in turning back,” warned Ash.
“Yes, there is.”
“Okay, only a little,” conceded Ash.
“I’m not going to sit back and let you hog all the glory. Here,” said Vesh, holding out a thermos.
“I’m not thirsty,” protested Ash.
“Yeah, you are.” Said Vesh, gesturing with the thermos. “You didn’t’ have any blood at breakfast, and I’ve been keeping eye on your little freezer down in the basement. You haven’t touched it in going on a week and a half. Drink.”
Ash could smell the blood, and hunger snarled deep within her stomach. But at the same time, a foul disgust was creeping through her. “No.”
“You’ve got to drink sometime. Please. You need it.”
Vesh hold the thermos close to Ash’s face.
“I said no, damn it!” Ash shouted, batting the thermos out of Vesh’s hand and to the ground. Warmed blood spilled across the ground.
Vesh became more concerned. “Ash…”
Ash was stumbling away from the spilled blood, retching at the smell, reaching a corner and throwing up blackened bile. “We need to follow the vampire.” She coughed out, between dry heaves.
“You’re in no condition to fight a vampire. We can turn back – we can get more…”
Ash shook her head. “Don’t say it.”
“Damn it, Ash. You need to drink. You don’t think I’ve noticed you? You don’t sleep anymore. You can barely get down food, and blood… you barely touch it unless you’re desperate. This isn’t healthy. I’m here for you.”
Ash shook her head. “We have to go on. I know… I know this vampire.”
“What? You can differentiate between vampiric bloodlines now? Are… are you certain?”
“I know this one well. This one is…” she trailed off, and began to make her way down the stairs.
--- A Year and a Half Prior ---
Ash was chained to the floor of the cell, her interrogator standing above her. Throwing down a lukewarm blood transfusion bag, he kicked her in the stomach. “Drink, half-blood.”
“F… fuck you…”
He kneeled down, grabbing her by the back of the head, and held her mouth open. Kicking the bloodbag aside, causing it to leak across the ground towards the drain in the center of the room, he gestured to the door. A man stepped in, carrying with him a bound and gagged teenage boy. The boy kicked and screamed as he was dragged into the room. The man carrying him drew a wicked-looking hunting knife, and drew it across the boy’s throat in a swift, decisive motion. The boy was gurgling his last breaths as blood poured from the wound. The interrogator turned Ash’s face up as the other man put the boy’s throat to her open lips, blood pouring into her mouth, her nose, most spilling but some she felt going down her throat.
--- Present Day ---
They were making their way down the stairs in sullen silence when they heard it. The scratching, the skittering, the sound of rats, moving around them in the dark. Ash closed her eyes, her breathing becoming ragged. Vesh took the lead, and motioned for Ash to sit down for a moment. She whispered in her ear. “I’ll be back in just a few seconds. Wait.”
The sounds of blades being drawn and of the screeching of rats. Finally, Ash heard the words, “Eallgrene sealt adfyr.” A bright flash of green, and nothing else. “You can open your eyes now.”
They continued on their way.
--- A Year and a Half Prior ---
Ash was blindfolded as she was led into the room and tied to the chair. It was a cold, study thing of wood. Chained at the ankles and the wrists, weakened from blood deprivation, she struggled against the chains until she was exhausted. She heard him, chuckling and chiding. “Is the little girl tired? Poor little girl…”
“Maybe the girl needs some friends. Yes, maybe some furry friends.”
She heard the sound of blade against sheath as he drew a knife, and felt it as he drew thick lines every few inches down her wrist and thigh. Blood slicked her skin as he stepped back, and whistled.
It was then she heard them. Skittering across the rafters, across the floor. Ash felt it as they fell onto her body, and tried to throw them off, but they kept piling on. She screamed as they bit into her flesh. She screamed and the man laughed.
--- Present Day ---
The hallway was sparsely lit with dangling, electric lights as they continued on their way. The form of the hallway was made of brick and wood, with a floor of cement. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” asked Vesh.
“I’m fine,” responded Ash, a little too quickly, having been waiting for the question.
“Ash… for gods’ sakes…”
Ash drew Carnwennan, and began the invocation again. The blade sheathed itself in shadow. “I’m fine.”
They reached the end of the hallway, and they saw it.
Sitting in the center of the room was a finely-wrought silver casket, surrounded on all sides by human bodies, blood splattered against the walls. Not catching her breath in time, Ash smelled the blood, assailing from all sides. Gagging, she began the purification invocation to cleanse the room with fire. “Eallgrene sealt adfyr.”
The room flashed green as fire consumed the corpses, leaving ash behind.
“What is this thing?” said Vesh, looking at the coffin.
“An artifact of great power, so they say. The coffin of the progenitors. Capable of bringing a vampire to an almost godlike state.”
“And capable of purifying the blood of a damphyr, my pet,” came a voice from the shadows.
They turned. Ash gasped. “You… you’re dead. I killed you…”
The interrogator stepped forward. “Only a spear of ash and silver can kill a vampire, as you well know.”
Gesturing to a stitched-shut scar around his throat, he laughed. “All you did was offend my vanity.”
He walked forward, touching the coffin with an outstretched arm. “You hurt me, running away like you did. All I wanted was what’s best for you, after all, little cousin.”
He held out his open arms to Ash. “Come to me, pet, I will take you with me and make you my immortal lover.”
Ash held Carnwennan at the ready, taking a step back. Her stance was nearly broken by her shaking.
“Come here, girl, I will hurt you no longer.”
Vesh stepped forward. “Enough.”
Drawing spear and sword, spear at the ready stance, sword ready to guard against blows, Vesh charged, speed and strength enhanced by the magic. The man just jumped out of the way.
“You’ll have to try harder than that to kill me, child. I am a vampire, not some weak-blooded mockery or halfblood pretender.”
Vesh struck with speed and strength, with each strike gaining more momentum and hitting faster. She felt her muscles burn as she fought him, but he dodged each blow with almost nonchalant ease. Growing tired of this, he grabbed the spear by the shaft and struck quickly, knocking the sword aside and biting deeply into her forearm. Vesh let out a cry of pain, as he threw her backwards.
Ash couldn’t stand still anymore. Half frozen in fear while Vesh struck, she steeled herself and struck. The interrogator laughed. “You can’t harm me any more now than you could then, girl.”
Before she could strike his flesh he dodged under the blow and slammed into her, sending her flying across the room, landing next to Vesh.
He crossed the room to where Ash lay, and grabbed her by the throat. “Your blood will fuel my power,” he said, biting into her throat. She felt herself being drained. After a couple moments, he pulled away, lips slick with blood.
“Watch, now, as I ascend to godhood,” he stated, wiping off his lips, opening the coffin. Inside was black velvet. Ripping off his shirt, he lied back into the coffin as the lid closed automatically.
A hissing sound like hydraulic sealing could be heard as the coffin closed.
“Ash,” said Vesh, trying to get closer to her, coughing up blood from broken ribs, unable to move her legs. Ash lay unconscious. Vesh took her wounded arm and put it over Ash’s lips, letting blood drip into her mouth. Still not conscious, Ash’s mouth instinctively bit into Vesh’s arm, draining blood. Vesh grimaced against the pain, but it was not in vain.
Ash awoke, her body repairing itself faster for the blood. She felt a surge of power from her blood, from Vesh’s blood, as Vesh faded out of consciousness.
The coffin opened just as Ash arose, holding Carnwennan and Clarent at the ready. The blood of Arthur she had drunk felt like fire rising in her veins as she spoke in the old tongue. “Cier asprungennes, Vampire.”
Her enemy had changed. Like some monstrous bat, his features had twisted into a vile mockery of the living. His fangs had grown and his teeth grown sharp. He growled.
They did battle, moving faster than sound, booms echoing off the halls. She dodged blow after blow, dealing small wounds bit by bit. Eventually, he failed – mis-stepping, he was impaled on the blades.
“This cannot kill me, whelp. I will return to hunt you. I will return to end you.”
“I know,” said Ash. “But next time, I will not hesitate. In the meantime, let’s see how well you can reform from my namesake. Eallgrene sealt adfyr.”
Flames engulfed him as he screamed in agony, burning as Ash gathered the weapons, picked up Vesh, and began to return up the stairs.
You know what I want? I want a Bad Ass Female Super Hero who is afraid of something small and cliche, like bugs or mice, but whose compatriots don’t make fun of her for it. They just step up and take care of the things she can’t. And her fear does not make her any less bad ass it just makes her human.