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Scott was familiar with family. After all, he had many in the past. All of them met the same fate though— trampled by plagues, wraths and eventually stakes, which left him shivering in the echo of warmth.
He clawed his chest open after the first dozen deaths. Ripped it open by the river of his hometown, just to stare at his undead heart in the reflection of the pristine water. For something that didn't work anymore, it sure liked to splinter and shatter.
Scott curled his fingers around the carefully preserved remnant of his humanity.
He yanked.
The dull red mixed into crystal blue as his mind and body entered a state of silent bliss. He barely registered his body thumping softly into the grass, morning dew flinging their tears into the air.
It was empty. In that space where he could neither ascend nor descend. He was existing. Existing was him.
If he listened closely, he could hear just the barest whispers of his loved ones, soothing and inviting him to the other side. Unfortunately for them, the only side Scott was on was his own.
And just like that, he was stitched back into the world of living. Well, as living as an undead could be.
He gradually sat up, working out the cricks in his neck.
"That's all the time I have for mushy feely stuff. Bleh," Scott shook off the residual fog that came with his temporary death. He had peasants to terrorise and glasses of crimson to sip from.
He trailed back to his manor languidly. The humans that lived on his lands were supposed to provide him with his midday meal soon. Scott licked his lips, anticipating the offerings.
Those cows were an absolute delight to feast on, I ought to make them offer more.
Existing for centuries with hobbies that barely satiated him could make life quite a bore. Luckily for Scott, he found that disturbing the common folk proved quite effective in providing entertainment.
Something about them squirming in his presence amused Scott to no end. He bared his fangs in a wicked smile.
This time however, the peasant in front of him wasn't cowering. In fact, this one dared to stare straight in his eyes. Scott tilted his head to one side. How curious.
"So what have you brought for me today? I do hope it's significantly better than the last meal I had."
The man smirked.
"Your demise.”
/|\ ^._.^ /|\ /|\ ^._.^ /|\ /|\ ^._.^ /|\
" Scott? Scottttttttt."
Scott blinked, it seemed that he had been reminiscing about the past for too long.
Shelby was sitting on the edge of the table, kicking her legs lazily, " Owen's been waiting for you to move so that he can replace the floorboards."
Ah yes, they were in the midst of rebuilding his manor.
Scott gracefully stood up and dusted off his cloak, letting the younger vampire do his job. It was nice to be delegating tasks again, instead of doing manual labour himself. It was unbecoming, really.
A sharp crack resounded within his eardrums. Scott winced, rubbing his temple gingerly. The humans were really getting a move on.
He rummaged through a nearby barrel. It should be here somewhere. His hands closed on a few familiar shapes. Since usual regenerative and healing potions don't work on their kind, finding remedies was a bit of a pain. Thankfully, vampires were made of sterner stuff.
"This is the fourth one today! We need to reclaim some back," Shelby exclaimed, with a tinge of annoyance.
Scott angled the bottles towards the soft light streaming from the windows. Some were copper tinted while the others ran magenta. He hummed in approval, before handing two bottles each of orange - hued blood to Shelby and Owen.
"Drink up, this should help."
Tipping back his own bottle, he relished in the soothing sensation that spread throughout his body. The hammering at the base of his skull diminished to a dull pulse.
“Woah, what did you put in this?” Shelby wiped her mouth with her wrist, impressed.
“It kinda reminds me of a healing potion,” Owen commented,” the effects are similar at least.”
“Its ginger infused blood, a solid replacement for whatever concoctions the humans use to heal themselves.” Scott was pleased to see them both draining the healing draught. It was a trick he learned from an alchemy obsessed vampire eons ago. He ought to pay him a visit, once he was done with Oakhurst.
Now where was Pyro?
"Perhaps we should check on Lake Beacon? The humans can't be everywhere at once right?" a bodiless voice suggested behind Scott and Owen.
Pyro dropped his transformation, stumbling slightly. In a sweeping movement, Scott tucked the fledgling into his side, preventing Pyro from becoming a mess of limbs on the floor. Another pop was heard and cold glass was pressed into Pyro’s hands.
Owen cleared his throat," I think it's a decent place to start. The moon’s almost up, so we'll be able to move around unnoticed."
Shelby's eyes sparkled with the beginnings of an idea.
"Are we going together? Are we having a family outing!?"
She bounced energetically on the spot, her attention flitting between Scott and Owen. The latter shrugged, motioning towards Scott. He called the shots after all.
“Well…” Scott started.” It would be faster if everyone came along. We certainly need to cover more ground.”
Without waiting for a definite answer, Shelby poofed into a flurry of bats. What an excitable puppy, Scott found himself thinking fondly. The next two pops reminded him that he should follow suit. He popped into existence, next to the beacon and next to a Shelby in bat form.
“What shall we do next Sire?”
“Reclaim what’s ours,” Scott drawled. ”Prove to these humans that struggling is futile. It’s not like they had a chance in the first place.”
Owen tapped his finger against his arm. ”We should split in pairs.”
“I call dibs on Scott!”
Shelby zipped around Scott, eager to get on with the mission. Owen rolled his eyes at her antics and pulled Pyro towards the crumbling wall of the tower. The two of them transformed. At least one did, normally. Owen turned around to face Scott, giving a mock salute before dramatically falling off the edge.
“Awww he loves us.”
Scott muttered underneath his breath,”Honestly, I’d rather bet on Avid becoming a vampire lover.”
Shelby laughed. Scott hadn’t heard one in years. It was disconcerting, hearing a relic of humanity existing within his presence. He watched her glide into the scarlet moonshine, their wing flaps growing softer. She seemed to have a realisation though, because she turned back.
“C’mon Scott, we’re supposed to go together,” Shelby whined. ”I won't leave my family behind.”
Together? Family?
He never belonged in the same sentence as those words. It was tragedy waiting to write another chapter. Despite that, a rusty smile pulled on his facial muscles, one that exposed too many teeth.
“Alright, alright, I’m going.”
Perhaps he’ll indulge himself this time.